That a remarkable conspiracy had been in progress was now made quite plain; and, further, one very valuable fact I had ascertained was that Ethelwynn was the only other person who knew the truth, and yet dared not reveal it.
This man who stood before me was old Mr. Courtenay, without a doubt. That being so, who could have been the unfortunate man who had been struck to the heart so mysteriously?
So strange and complicated were all the circumstances, and so cleverly had the chief actors in the drama arranged its details, that Courtenay himself was convinced that for others to learn the truth was utterly impossible. Yet it was more than remarkable that he sought not to disguise his personal appearance if he wished to remain dead to the world. Perhaps, however, being unknown in that rural district—for he once had told me that he had never visited his wife’s home since his marriage—he considered himself perfectly safe from recognition. Besides, from their conversation I gathered that they only met on rare occasions, and certainly Mary kept up the fiction of mourning with the greatest assiduity.
I recollected what old Mrs. Mivart had told me of her daughter’s erratic movements; of her short mysterious absences with her dressing-bag and without a maid. It was evident that she made flying visits in various directions in order to meet her “dead” husband.
Courtenay spoke again, after a brief silence, saying:
“I had no idea that the doctor was down here, or I should have kept away. To be seen by him would expose the whole affair.”
“I was quite ignorant of his visit until I went in to dinner and found him already seated at table,” she answered. “But he will leave to-morrow. He said to-night that to remain away from his patients for a single day was very difficult.”
“Is he down here in pursuance of his inquiries, do you think?” suggested her husband.
“He may be. Mother evidently knew of his impending arrival, but told me nothing. I was annoyed, for he was the very last person I wished to meet.”
“Well, he’ll go in the morning, so we have nothing to fear. He’s safe enough in bed, and sleeping soundly—confound him!”