’I guessed what this further suspicion was, and resolved to enlighten her to a certain extent, and so secure her assistance.  I said that I killed my wife by an accident on the night of the fire, dwelling upon the advantage to her of the death of the only woman who knew her secret.

’Her terror, and fears for my fate, led her to watch the rectory that evening.  She saw the detective leave it, and followed him to my residence.  This she told me hurriedly when I perceived her after digging my wife’s grave in the plantation.  She did not suspect what the sack contained.

’I am now about to enter on my normal condition.  For people are almost always in their graves.  When we survey the long race of men, it is strange and still more strange to find that they are mainly dead men, who have scarcely ever been otherwise.

‘AENEAS MANSTON.’

The steward’s confession, aided by circumstantial evidence of various kinds, was the means of freeing both Anne Seaway and Miss Aldclyffe from all suspicion of complicity with the murderer.

2.  SIX O’CLOCK P.M.

It was evening—­just at sunset—­on the day of Manston’s death.

In the cottage at Tolchurch was gathered a group consisting of Cytherea, her brother, Edward Springrove, and his father.  They sat by the window conversing of the strange events which had just taken place.  In Cytherea’s eye there beamed a hopeful ray, though her face was as white as a lily.

Whilst they talked, looking out at the yellow evening light that coated the hedges, trees, and church tower, a brougham rolled round the corner of the lane, and came in full view.  It reflected the rays of the sun in a flash from its polished panels as it turned the angle, the spokes of the wheels bristling in the same light like bayonets.  The vehicle came nearer, and arrived opposite Owen’s door, when the driver pulled the rein and gave a shout, and the panting and sweating horses stopped.

‘Miss Aldclyffe’s carriage!’ they all exclaimed.

Owen went out.  ‘Is Miss Graye at home?’ said the man.  ’A note for her, and I am to wait for an answer.’

Cytherea read in the handwriting of the Rector of Carriford:—­

’DEAR MISS GRAYE,—­Miss Aldclyffe is ill, though not dangerously.  She continually repeats your name, and now wishes very much to see you.  If you possibly can, come in the carriage.—­Very sincerely yours, JOHN RAUNHAM.’

‘How comes she ill?’ Owen inquired of the coachman.

’She caught a violent cold by standing out of doors in the damp, on the night the steward ran away.  Ever since, till this morning, she complained of fulness and heat in the chest.  This morning the maid ran in and told her suddenly that Manston had killed himself in gaol—­she shrieked—­broke a blood-vessel—­and fell upon the floor.  Severe internal haemorrhage continued for some time and then stopped.  They say she is sure to get over it; but she herself says no.  She has suffered from it before.’