It was a tiny kid slipper.
“See!” he cried, eagerly, his voice trembling with excitement. “She has been here—inside of the carriage. That, at least, is proven. For don’t you remember this slipper, Jack? It is the facsimile of those worn by Mrs. Arleigh, when she was placed upon the couch in the drawing-room, supposed to be dead. To make assurance doubly sure, I will see Miss Violet, and she will identify it. But I am convinced that Mrs. Arleigh has been in this carriage. Danton, I ask you in the name of Heaven! where can she be now?”
Doctor Danton shook his head.
“It is all a mystery to me!” he cried, blankly. “Yet, surely, there must be some mistake, Dunbar. For how could she be inside the carriage, and also have driven it away? Furthermore, I know that Rosamond Arleigh could not manage a horse, much less two, to save her life. Clearly, then, there must have been a driver. The question is: Who was he?”
CHAPTER XI.
DROWNED!
Morning dawned over The Oaks—a fair, smiling April morning—but the smiles turned into tears long before noon, and the green face of the earth was drenched with the downpour from nature’s eyes.
It was really quite fortunate—so Doctor Danton declared in privacy to Dunbar—for then there would not be a large attendance at Mrs. Arleigh’s funeral service, consequently, less questions to parry; and the task would be easier.
For the physician and the detective had decided, in solemn conclave, to allow the sham funeral to take place; to say nothing of the strange and startling events which had occurred at The Oaks, and allow the whole country-side to still believe in the fact of Rosamond Arleigh’s death.