"On the day you and I and Chaskin examined the spot where the murder was committed."
"Oh!" Paul's thoughts flew back to Herne's trance, and subsequent behaviour. "So you think that the rainbow feather is a clue?"
"What do you know about the rainbow feather?" questioned Herne sharply.
"Nothing--save that you picked up a parti-coloured feather, and called it by that name. Is it a clue?"
"I think so. I am not sure," replied Darcy, doubtfully. "I'll tell you on my return."
"When do you return?"
"In three days. Have I your promise not to pursue the investigation against Lovel till I come back?"
"Oh, yes!" said Paul, yielding readily enough, the more easily as at the moment he did not know how to act in the matter. "I'll do nothing till you come back and explain. But the rainbow feather----"
"Good-day, Mexton; I'm in a hurry," said Herne, cutting short the speech; "in three days you will know as much as I do about that feather."
He hurried away, and Paul stood looking after him, wondering how the discovery of a dyed feather could affect the case. Had some blood-thirsty person come down from London especially to murder Milly, and had the rainbow feather been left as the sign manual of the work, after the fashion of a secret society? Paul smiled at the fantasy of the idea. Milly did not know anyone in London--or rather had not known, since the poor girl must now be spoken of in the past tense--and the fame of her beauty could not have spread beyond the environs of Barnstead and Marborough. The tragedy of her death had given her a fame much wider.