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Giles. He could not understand why Anne should have behaved in such a manner, and still less could he understand why the car should have disappeared. He knew well that she could drive a motor, for he had taught her himself; but that she should thus take possession of his property and get rid of his man in so sly a way perplexed and annoyed him. He and Trim stood amidst the falling snow, staring at one another, almost too surprised to speak.

      Suddenly they heard a loud cry of fear, and a moment afterward an urchin – one of the choir lads – came tearing down the path as though pursued by a legion of fiends. Giles caught him by the collar as he ran panting and white-faced past him.

      "What's the matter?" he asked harshly. "Why did you cry out like that? Where are you going?"

      "To mother. Oh, let me go!" wailed the lad. "I see her lying on the grave. I'm frightened. Mother! mother!"

      "Saw who lying on the grave?"

      "I don't know. A lady. Her face is down in the snow, and she is bleeding. I dropped the lantern mother gave me and scudded, sir. Do let me go! I never did it!"

      "Did what?" Giles in his nervous agitation shook the boy.

      "Killed her! I didn't! She's lying on Mr. Kent's grave, and I don't know who she is."

      He gave another cry for his mother and tried to get away, but Giles, followed by Trim, led him up the path. "Take me to the grave," he said in a low voice.

      "I won't!" yelped the lad, and tearing his jacket in his eagerness to escape, he scampered past Trim and out of the gate like a frightened hare. Giles stopped for a moment to wipe his perspiring forehead and pass his tongue over his dry lips, then he made a sign to Trim to follow, and walked rapidly in the direction of Mr. Kent's grave. He dreaded what he should find there, and his heart beat like a sledge-hammer.

      The grave was at the back of the church, and the choir boy had evidently passed it when trying to take a short cut to his mother's cottage over the hedge. The snow was falling so thickly and the night was so dark that Giles wondered how the lad could have seen any one on the grave. Then he remembered that the lad had spoken of a lantern. During a lull in the wind he lighted a match, and by the blue glare he saw the lantern almost at his feet, where the boy had dropped it in his precipitate flight. Hastily picking this up, he lighted the candle with shaking fingers and closed the glass. A moment later, and he was striding towards the grave with the lantern casting a large circle of light before him.

      In the ring of that pale illumination he saw the tall tombstone, and beneath it the figure of a woman lying face downward on the snow. Trim gave an exclamation of astonishment, but Giles set his mouth and suppressed all signs of emotion. He wondered if the figure was that of Anne or of Daisy, and whether the woman, whomsoever she was, was dead or alive. Suddenly he started back with horror. From a wound under the left shoulder-blade a crimson stream had welled forth, and the snow was stained with a brilliant red. The staring eyes of the groom looked over his shoulder as he turned the body face upwards. Then Giles uttered a cry. Here was Daisy Kent lying dead – murdered – on her father's grave!

      CHAPTER V

      AFTERWARDS

      Never before had any event created such a sensation in the village of Rickwell. From the choir boy and his mother the news quickly spread. Also Giles had to call in the aid of the rector to have the body of the unfortunate girl carried to The Elms. In a short time the churchyard was filled with wondering people, and quite a cortege escorted the corpse. It was like the rehearsal of a funeral procession.

      Mrs. Morley had gone to bed, thinking the two girls might be reconciled in church and come home together. Her husband, not so sanguine, had remained in the library till after midnight, ready to play the part of peace-maker should any fracas occur. He appeared in the hall when poor dead Daisy was carried through the door, and stared in surprise at the spectacle.

      "Great heavens!" he cried, coming forward, his ruddy face pale with sudden emotion. "What is all this?"

      Giles took upon himself the office of spokesman, which the rector, remembering that he had been engaged to the deceased, tacitly delegated to him.

      "It's poor Daisy," he said hoarsely. "She has been – "

      "Murdered! No. Don't say murdered!"

      "Yes, we found her lying on her father's grave, dead; a knife-thrust under the left shoulder-blade. She must have died almost instantaneously."

      "Dead!" muttered Morley, ghastly white. And he approached to take the handkerchief from the dead face. "Dead!" he repeated, replacing it. Then he looked at the haggard face of Ware, at the silent group of men and the startled women standing in the doorway, where the rector was keeping them back.

      "Where is her murderess?" he asked sharply.

      "Murderess!" repeated Giles angrily. "What do you mean?"

      "Mean? Why, that Miss Denham has done this, and – "

      "You are mad to say such a thing."

      "I'll tax her with it to her face. Where is she? Not at home, for I have been waiting to see her."

      "She's run way on Mr. Ware's motor-car," volunteered Trim, only to be clutched violently by his master.

      "Don't say that, you fool. You can't be sure of that, Mr. Morley," he added, turning to the scared man. "Make no remark about this until we can have a quiet talk about it."

      "But I say – "

      "You can say it to the police officer in the morning."

      "She'll have escaped by that time," whispered Trim to his master.

      Giles saw the danger of Anne – supposing her to be guilty, as the groom thought her – and made up his mind at once.

      "Go home, Trim, and saddle a couple of horses. We'll follow the track of the car, and when we find it – "

      "You'll never find it," put in Morley, who had been listening with all his ears. "The falling snow must have obliterated any wheel-marks by this time. When did this occur?"

      "I don't know," replied Giles coldly. "And instead of chattering there, you had better have the – the – " he stammered, "the body taken into some room and attended to. Poor Daisy," he sighed, "what an end to your bright young life!"

      Here Mr. Drake, the rector, thought it necessary to assert himself, and waved aside the throng.

      "All you men and women, go to your homes," he said. "Nothing can be done to-night, and – "

      "The car might be followed," said a voice.

      "And the car will be followed," said Giles, pushing his way to the door. "Come, Trim, we'll ride at once. Did no one see the car pass out of the village?"

      No one had seen it, as most of the villagers had been inside the church and the rest in their homes.

      There was some talk and suggestions, but Ware, with a nod to Morley, took a hasty departure and disappeared into the stormy night.

      "He might track the car," said the rector.

      "He won't," replied Morley bitterly; "he'll lead Trim on a wrong scent. He liked Miss Denham too well to let her drop into the hands of the police."

      "Then you really think she did it?" asked Drake, horrified.

      "I am perfectly certain," was the reply. "Come into the library, and I'll show you what evidence I have."

      Meantime the hall was cleared of the eager listeners, and all present went to their homes less to sleep than to argue as to the guilt or innocence of Anne. The body of the girl was taken to her bedroom, and poor scared Mrs. Morley, roused from her bed to face this tragedy, did all that was needful, assisted by two old women, who remained behind to offer their services. This was all that could be done till dawn, and Mrs. Morley, thinking of the dead Daisy and the missing Anne, wept till the first streaks of daylight. As yet her limited understanding could not grasp the horror of the thing.

      Morley conducted Mr. Drake to the library. He related how his wife had heard Anne threaten to kill Daisy, produced the anonymous letter, detailed Daisy's accusation that the governess was in love with Ware, and finally pointed

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