The "Marsh Inn" had settled down to its old ways. Mrs. Narby procured a slip of a girl in place of Elspeth, and treated her just as badly. Once or twice she met with her former slave in the village and scowled viciously, but she neither spoke to her, nor made any assault, which Elspeth quite expected her to do, seeing what a virago the landlady was. Perhaps the fact that Elspeth boarded at Armour's had to do with Mrs. Narby's meekness, for the woman and her husband were highly suspicious characters, and were suspected by more than one person of smuggling goods. At the back of the inn was a waterway, known as the Red Creek, from the colour of the mud on its shores, and here, it was reported, boats used to come up from the river laden with contraband goods. Armour had often watched but as yet had not been able to implicate Mr. and Mrs. Narby in wrongdoing. All the same, the couple kept quiet, and did not cross the policeman's path lest ill should come of their doing so. It was certain, therefore, that Mrs. Narby's avoidance of Elspeth, lay in the fact that she was under Armour's roof. And she was very glad of the refuge.

Meanwhile Señora Guzman made no move either to see Sweetlips, or to seek out the political assassin. Perhaps she was waiting until such time as Kind would produce Herries, and then, when the accused man was in her presence, she might have made up her mind to speak out. Several times, the two men discussed the advisability of trusting the Mexican lady, but Elspeth always insisted that her lover should remain where he was until her father should be found.

The girl had got it into her head that Mr. Gowrie would be able to produce evidence likely to save Herries from the scaffold, and was certain that her father would appear before long. But although she had written twice or thrice to the address he had given her in London, the old man never replied, and never appeared. It would really seem, as Kind sometimes thought, that the old scamp was himself the guilty party, and had murdered Sir Simon for the sake of the money.

The papers had been full of the crime, but now that Sir Simon was safely buried, and no trace could be found of his assassin, as Herries was believed to be, the interest in the case died away to a great extent. It was revived somewhat by the advertisements about Michael Gowrie, for Trent, not finding the local papers of sufficiently wide circulation, had placed notices of the reward in the London journals. Every paper in the metropolis seemed to contain an inquiry for Michael Gowrie, so that Herries began to think that it was not so much Trent who was seeking for the man, as Maud Tedder, guided by the advice of Captain Kyles. These two wanted the money and by the will, if Herries died, the girl would inherit. It was therefore probable, that, thinking Gowrie would be able to substantiate the guilt of Herries, Miss Tedder had offered a reward likely to bring the old man on the scene. But as the days went by, and no Gowrie appeared, it seemed as though the truth would never be made manifest by reason of the absence of the chief witness. And Herries was growing very weary of his confinement.

One evening, a couple of weeks after the burial of Sir Simon Tedder, when the weather was still damp and dreary, Kind suggested for the hundredth time the advisability, as he put it, of Herries facing the music; in other words, he really thought that the young man should give himself up. Mrs. Kind had now quite recovered, and had gone to the "Marsh Inn" to do some sewing for Mrs. Narby. The accused man was seated in the gap of the hiding-place, ready to lie down and be covered up, as soon as any suspicious knock came to the door. Kind himself, smoking a short clay pipe, guarded the door, and Elspeth, in cloak and hat, sat on the bed. The girl looked ever so much better, in spite of her anxiety, as the improved food she was enjoying at Mrs. Armour's, and her freedom from being struck and knocked about, enabled her to put on flesh. She was really becoming rarely beautiful, and no doubt the love which she had gained was helping her to become more of a woman and less of a drudge. She looked very different to the pale-faced, miserable creature whom Herries had helped on that memorable evening, when he had first set foot in that unlucky hotel.

"The case stands this way," said Kind, after a pause, and using his little finger as a stopper. "We can't do anything as matters are now. I have seen Ritson, and he says so."

"Sweetlips, surely you have not told the lawyer that Angus is here?"

"Not such a fool, my dear. But Ritson returned from Paris to-day, and I saw him by chance in the street. We went to his office, and I asked him, on, Dr. Browne's behalf, as Mr. Herries' friend, mind you, how matters stood."

"Well?" asked Herries anxiously.

"Well!" echoed the Cheap-jack, "he said that Miss Tedder was mad to find that she had been disinherited, and was still in London with Mrs. Mountford and the Captain, seeing if the will could be upset."