“You shall never have them,” cried Miss Grison unexpectedly, and before anyone could move she raised her arm. In a moment the stiletto was in the Indian’s heart, and he fell like a log on the floor.
“Great God!” roared the inspector and sprang forward.
Miss Grison put out her frail arms. “Go on, put the handcuffs here,” she mocked coolly. “I have settled the beast who balked me of my revenge!”
“He is quite dead,” said Alan lifting a pale face from an examination.
“And that beast Sorley lives,” snarled Miss Grison viciously, and spat at her husband.
CHAPTER XXII
CALM AFTER STORM
In the month of July the park of The Monastery was in full leafage, and presented a glorious sea of shimmering tremulous green. The gardens glowed with many-colored blossoms, and especially there was a profusion of roses, red and white and yellow, for Marie Inderwick, loving flowers, had planted quantities immediately after her return home from the Brighton school. The whole place was radiant with color under a cloudless and deeply blue sky, and the hot sunshine bathed everything in hues of gold. It was like the Garden of Eden, and neither Adam nor Eve were wanting, since the lovers were walking therein, arm in arm, talking of the past, congratulating themselves on the present, and looking forward to a serene and glorious future. The storm was over, and now a halcyon calm prevailed.
“It’s like heaven,” sighed Miss Inderwick, whose face glowed like one of the roses she wore at her breast, from sheer happiness, “and to think that we shall be married to-morrow, Alan dearest.”
“Then it will be more like heaven than ever,” laughed the young man, who looked the picture of content. “Let us go to St. Peter’s Dell, Marie darling; for it was there that we found the jewels.”
“Rather the papers which led to the finding of the jewels,” corrected Miss Inderwick gladly, “and it’s a nice place to make love in, Alan, for I have planted it with roses.”