"No," said Craver, decisively. "She had every reason to keep him alive, and no reason at all to wish him dead. She didn't strike the blow. Who did I can't say. I'm going to find out. Now you see, Claudia, why I told my father and mother that I wished to assist Lady Wyke. I must assist her, as otherwise I shall be put in gaol on a charge of murder."
"She would never do that," exclaimed Claudia, flushing angrily.
"Oh, indeed she would. The woman is a perfect nuisance, and, although I was as rude as possible to her, she would not sheer off."
"If I gave you up would she let you have that letter and hold her tongue?"
"She says she would," was Edwin's cautions reply, as he rose and glanced at his watch. "Anyhow, I have a fortnight to think over things. In order to got the better of Lady Wyke and clear my character I'm off to-night to begin my search for the true assassin. Come to the gate and see me off, Claudia."
Neither the Rector nor his wife really learnt why Edwin took so abrupt a departure. He made his apologies anew, shook hands with his father and kissed his mother. Mrs. Craver accorded him a rather chilly forgiveness, and remarked that he could not be so very fond of Claudia, seeing that he preferred to leave her and go about Laura Bright's business. However, Edwin laughed her into a better humour, and then went off to Redleigh, on his motorcycle, to catch the nine o'clock train to town.
The Rectory was very dull after this untoward departure. Mrs. Craver being upset, retired early to bed, and insisted that her husband should come likewise. As he had to rise for early celebration next morning, he was not averse to doing what she asked, and the old couple were safely tucked in by ten o'clock. Claudia, left alone, read a book for a time, but was unable to fix her attention on the story, as she was actually living a much more exciting one. Then she saw that the servants were all in bed, and retired herself in the hope of getting to sleep. Only in that way could she forget her troubles. But she woo'd sleep in vain; she tossed and turned restlessly for quite thirty minutes. At the end of that time she took a sudden resolution, and rose to dress herself. It was not yet so late but what Lady Wyke might still be up and about, so Claudia decided to call and see her. Considering the primitive habits of Hedgerton, the project was rather a mad one. Still, strong diseases require strong remedies, and in a very short time Claudia, with the latch-key in her pocket, had slipped out of the dark Rectory, and was on her way to Maranatha.
It was a bright, star-lit night, although there was no moon, and the girl walked swiftly along the Esplanade towards Ladysmith Road. Luckily, she met no one, not even Jervis, the policeman, as his attentions on Saturday night were always given to the village in the hollow. Claudia boldly rang the bell, and when the footman appeared, sent in her card. The man seemed rather astonished at so late a visitor, but took up the card to his mistress, and shortly returned with the information that Lady Wyke would be pleased to see Miss Lemby.
Claudia followed the servant up the stairs; she was ushered into the drawing-room, and the door was shut behind her. So here she was in the lion's den, alone and unsupported.
"This is a pleasant surprise, Miss Lemby," said Lady Wyke, moving forward with outstretched hands. "Do tell me why you have come to see me at this hour?" Claudia rejected the outstretched hands, and, folding her own, spoke sternly to the point. "I have come to give up Edwin to you," she said, calmly.