"I don't believe it, Mr. Julf. Take my word for it, George Kerris is innocent of the crime."
"Is he?" said Julf, in sceptical tones; "then who is guilty?"
"That is what I have come to find out," retorted Hagar. "I am obliged to you for letting me help you, though, to be sure, I do so only to gratify my own curiosity. But you won't repent of your concession. I am to have a free hand?"
"You can do exactly as you like."
"Can I? Then I shall first call and see the new baronet."
Refusing the offer of Julf to accompany her, on the plea that she could execute her business better alone, Hagar walked to Welby Park, which was on the other side of Marlow, and asked to see Sir Lewis Crane. At first, owing to her gipsy-like appearance, she was refused admittance; but on mentioning that her business had to do with the murder of the late baronet, Sir Lewis consented to see her. When face to face with him, Hagar, for reasons of her own, examined him closely.
He was an ugly, elderly little creature, many years older than his dead cousin, and had a mean yellow face, stamped with an expression of avarice. Hagar had seen just such another pinched, cunning look on the face of Jacob Dix, and she knew without much trouble that the man before her was a miser. However, she wasted no time in analyzing his character--knowing that it would reveal itself in the forthcoming conversation--but at once mentioned her business.
"I am come on the part of Mr. Julf to see about this murder," she said, curtly.
Sir Lewis raised his eyes. "I did not know that the Government employed lady detectives!" was his remark.
"I am not a detective, but the owner of the shop in which the boots of George Kerris were pawned."
"The boots which prove his guilt," said Crane, with an air of relief, which did not escape Hagar.
"I rather think that they prove his innocence!" was her cold reply.
"Oh! you are talking about them having been given to that tramp when Kerris was in prison. I know all about that, as the detective told it to me. But, all the same, Kerris is guilty, else he would deny his guilt."
"Have you any idea why he does not do so?"
Crane shrugged his shoulders. "No; unless it is that he knows himself to be guilty."
"I believe him to be innocent."
"Pshaw! My cousin admired Laura Brenton, who was engaged to Kerris, and was foolishly attentive to her. On that score the man was insolent; so Leslie discharged him. In commit--ting the murder, he took a double revenge."
"Where were you, Sir Lewis, when your cousin was killed?"
"In the park," replied the baronet, frankly, "After dinner my cousin and I went out for a stroll. In a short time he made some excuse to leave me, as I believe he wished to meet Laura by the Queen's Pool. I walked in the opposite direction, and shortly afterwards I came back to I the house. Leslie had not returned, so I went to look for him, and found his dead body by the Pool."
"Did you hear the pistol shot?"
"Yes; but I paid no attention to it. My cousin was in the habit of firing at a target, and I thought he might be doing so then."
"What! firing at a target in the twilight! Could your cousin see in the dark like a cat?" said Hagar, with irony.
"I don't know anything about that!" retorted Crane, snappishly. "I have told you the story, as you represent the detective Julf. I say no more!"
"I don't want you to say more. May I go and look at the pond?"
"Certainly. One of the servants shall show it to you."
"Can't you come yourself?" said Hagar, with a keen glance.
Crane drew back, and his yellow face grew pale. "No," said he, in an almost inaudible voice. "I have seen enough of that horrible place!"
"Very good; I'll go with the servant," replied Hagar, and marched towards the door.
"What do you want to see the pool for?" he asked, following.
"I wish to find the lost pistol."
When Hagar had taken her departure, Sir Lewis, pale and nervous, stood near the open window. "Confound this woman!" he thought, clenching his hand. "She is far too clever; but I don't think she'll be quite clever enough to find that pistol," he added, in a satisfied tone.
The Queen's Pool was a circular sheet of water filled with lilies, at the lower end of the park. On the way thereto Hagar asked the servant who was guiding her a few questions.
"Was Sir Lewis poor before he got the estate?" she demanded.
"Very poor, miss; hadn't a sixpence but what he got from Sir Leslie."
"Was he on good terms with his cousin?"
"No, miss; they was quarreling fearful. On the night of the murder they had a row royal!"
"What about?" asked Hagar, turning a keen look on the man.
"About money and that gal Laura. Sir Lewis loved her just as much as Sir Leslie; but she didn't care a straw for either of them, being taken up with Kerris."
"How does she take her lover's arrest?"
"Why, miss, she cries, and cries, and swears that he is innocent, and talks nonsense."
"What kind of nonsense? There may be some sense in it?"
"I dursn't tell you, miss," said the servant casting a hurried look round, "it 'ud be as much as my place is worth."
"Oh, I understand," said Hagar, serenely; "this Laura says that Sir Lewis killed his cousin."
"Yes, she do," replied the man, aghast at her penetration; "but how could you guess, miss, is more---"
"Never mind," said Hagar, cutting him short as they arrived at the pool. "Is this the place where the murder was committed?"
"Yes, miss; we found the body there in the mud; and just beside it the marks of the boots."
Hagar reflected, and asked another question. "Did Sir Lewis ever visit Kerris?"
"He did, miss, just two days afore the murder--went to see him about some game."
"Oh, did he?" murmured Hagar to herself. "I think there was something more than game in that visit."
Of this she said nothing to the man, who stood on the bank, watching her searching about the place. The pool was filled with clear water, and on it the lilies floated placidly. Hagar peered in to see if there was any trace of the pistol used to kill Sir Leslie; but although the water was crystal-clear, and she searched carefully, not a sign of the weapon could she see. The grass round the pool was closely shorn, and some little distance up the slope stretched a terrace with a flight of shallow stone steps. On either side of these, at the lower end, were two pillars, bearing urns of marble sculptured in classic fashion with nymphs and dancing fauns. In these bloomed scarlet geraniums, now in full flower; and as Hagar,
