"Pardon me; he had at the inquest, and he lied."
"Well, we won't discuss that," said Miss Clyde, rising. "I am sure Mr. Lovel is innocent, and can prove his innocence if needful. I have told you all I know, Mr. Mexton, and I'll tell Drek to-morrow. I suppose I'll see you at the funeral this afternoon?"
"Yes," said Paul, gravely. "I shall be at the funeral," and then the two parted.
CHAPTER XIV.
["DUST TO DUST."]
When Paul returned to Barnstead he felt satisfied that he had done wisely in seeking the confidence of Miss Clyde. Without doubt her statement had simplified matters in connection with the crime, although it had not altogether solved the mystery which shrouded the death of Milly. Instead of suspecting three people, as he had done prior to his visit, Paul now directed his energies to the discovery of the guilt of one, and that one, as may be guessed, was Lucas Lovel. Miss Clyde had exonerated herself; she had proved the innocence of Lester; so the obtainable evidence now pointed to the guilt of Lovel. Herne and Iris believed that he had committed the crime; Brent and Miss Clyde insisted that he was innocent; and Gran Jimboy, for a reason of her own, had provided a lying alibi to extricate the suspected man from a dangerous position. Paul, reflecting on the situation, did not know what view to take.
There was no doubt that Lovel recognised his danger, and had induced the old gipsy to aid him in averting it by perjuring herself at the inquest; also he had bribed the ploughman Brent into concealing his presence in the Winding Lane on the fatal night, at the fatal hour. But one thing was certain, that Lovel was the last person who had seen the murdered girl alive. This was proved by the evidence of Brent and Miss Clyde--both friendly witnesses to Lovel--both of whom stated distinctly that he had been with Milly Lester within half an hour of her death. It was therefore impossible, as Paul thought, that he should not know something about the murder, if, indeed, he had not committed it himself. Yet, if he were guilty, he would have sought safety in flight; but as yet he still lingered at The Herne Arms.
"I'll see if he comes to the funeral," said Paul to himself as he sat at luncheon; "that will go far, to my mind, to prove if he is innocent or guilty. If Milly is really dead by his hand, I don't think he will have the hardihood to see her body placed in a grave. If, on the other hand, he did not kill her, he will come to her burial, and I can tell from his demeanour what his thoughts are. Even the most reticent man must reveal his feelings at such a moment; and if Lovel is guilty, he will be wise enough to keep away."
Going by this theory, the suspected man was innocence itself, for when Paul joined the throng of curious sightseers which was crowding into the cemetery, one of the first persons he saw was Lucas Lovel. Nay, more; the young man did not lurk in the background, but thrust himself forward so as to compose one of the group which stood immediately round the grave. He was dressed in black; pale, but composed, he exhibited none of the agitation which a guilty man would have found it difficult to conceal. Tested thus, and tested by his own free-will, Lovel was innocent; and despite the evidence to the contrary, and the openly stated beliefs of Iris and Herne, the journalist was inclined to believe that Lovel had not killed the girl.
Naturally, under the circumstances, there was a great concourse of people at the funeral of the dead girl. Iris and Mrs. Mexton were there, Paul and Lovel, Miss Clyde and Mrs. Drass; also Herne, who had been engaged to the deceased, and Francis Chaskin, who read the service over that untimely grave. But these persons attended because they were kinsfolk and friends of the person whom they were burying. The majority of the crowd were attracted to the spot by morbid curiosity. It had been rumoured that Dr. Lester, who was suspected of the murder, would be allowed to attend the funeral of his unfortunate child; and the crowd were determined to give him a warm reception for his insolence in attending the successful outcome of his iniquity. Fortunately, however, for the decency of the funeral, Lester remained locked up in Marborough Gaol, and the multitude, or rather the mob, of over-zealous persons, were disappointed. There was no one at whom to gaze as a genuine criminal; no one to shoot, or to throw stones at; and when the earth was heaped over the coffin of Milly Lester, the throng melted away with the conviction that it had been swindled out of a sensation. The burial had proved less interesting than they expected.