"Exactly. I'll support you, and you can talk your heart out to me."
"You're a good fellow, Jim. Why, I half believed you would think me----"
"Don't talk bosh!" Vane jumped up irritably. "Why, you're the whitest man I know, and my old school-pal. I'd as soon believe myself guilty as you. Now I'm off to bed; go thou and do likewise and don't worry." After which speech he shook hands with Hench and the two parted for the night.
For the next nine days they had many such talks, and kept themselves well informed of the progress which the case was making so far as they could learn in print. Of course, the girl at the Bull Inn did tell the police about the interview in the tap-room, and of course great capital was made out of this. But as Owain had suspected, the girl being inobservant, and not having seen him very clearly in the smoky dimly-lighted atmosphere, gave a most incoherent account of his appearance. All she could say was that the questioner was a rough-looking tramp with a bushy black beard, who spoke civilly enough, but who was not a gentleman. Vane chuckled when he read this unflattering description, which was sufficiently wrong and vague to preserve Hench from suspicions. And, indeed, if the girl had been confronted with Hench she would never have recognized in this handsome clean-shaven young gentleman, fashionably dressed, the rough tramp who had drank his beer in the tap-room. It was Vane who made Owain dress fashionably, so as to make him look as unlike his old bearded self as possible. He took him to his tailor, to his haberdasher, to his bootmaker, and to various other tradesmen, with the result that Owain's new wardrobe did full justice to his handsome looks. Hench, being of the pioneering legion, rather kicked against being thus civilized, but he recognized that Vane was right to insist upon the transformation.
Whatever Madame Alpenny might have thought she did not put her thoughts into action, for nothing appeared in the papers likely to show that Hench was suspected by the police. The inquest on Squire Madoc Evans' body was duly held, and the verdict was brought in of "Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown," although every one was pretty certain that the shabby tramp who had inquired the way to the Gipsy Stile was the culprit. But he had vanished, and--thanks to Madame Alpenny's silence--no word came to the police suggesting his identity with Owain Hench. The funeral took place in due time, and it gave Owain a thrill when he read that the body had been taken to Rhaiadr in Wales for burial. It was said that Evans came from that place, and that all his ancestors were buried there. Incidentally, it was mentioned that the dead man had left a daughter who inherited Cookley Grange, and by her father's death became the Lady of the Manor.
"I think it's all right now," said Vane when matters reached this pitch. "After the nine days' wonder the excitement will gradually die away. And, by Jupiter!" cried the barrister, "it is exactly nine days. Owain, old son, this is your birthday. Off with you and call on Gilberry & Gilberry."
"Won't you come also, Jim?"
"No, I won't. You can't get into trouble in a respectable legal office, and you are so changed that no one is likely to spot you as the man who is wanted for Squire Madoc Evans' death."
Owain was content to go alone, although he felt slightly nervous. His strongest card, should anything come out, was that he had not known Evans, and therefore had no reason to kill him. And by this time he was growing used to the situation, since Madame Alpenny was holding her tongue. Why she acted in this kind way he could not understand, but accepted the explanation provided by Vane. However, if he came into money she probably would find him out and move in the matter. Therefore it was with some reluctance that Hench went to Gilberry & Gilberry's office in Lincoln's Inn Fields. He wanted to let sleeping dogs lie, and was unwilling to become rich, as by doing so he would certainly bring Madame Alpenny down on his head. All the same, Hench felt very curious when he faced the white-headed old gentleman who was the head of the firm, and was rather astonished by the warmth of the greeting he received.
"I am glad to see you," said Mr. Gilberry heartily. "You come in the nick of time, my dear young friend."