[And now, dear readers, I am in a difficulty. How shall the story go on? The editor of The Seaside Library asks quite frankly for a murder. His idea was that the Lady Beltravers should be found dead in the park next morning and that Gwendolen should be arrested. This seems to me both crude and vulgar. Besides I want a murder for No. XCIX of the series—The Severed Thumb.
No, I think I know a better way out.]
Old John French sat beneath a spreading pear-tree and waited. Early that morning a mysterious note had been brought to him, asking for an interview on a matter of the utmost importance. This was the trysting-place.
"I have come," said a voice behind him, "to ask you to beg your daughter——"
"I have come" cried the Lady Beltravers, "to ask you——"
"I HAVE COME," shouted her ladyship, "TO——"
John French wheeled round in amazement. With a cry the Lady Beltravers shrank back.
"Eustace," she gasped—"Eustace, Earl of Turbot!"
"Eliza!"