than this, Nashby," hesaid, mixing his glass again. "Here's to the Heath Hover mystery."

  "And its unravelling," answered Nashby, raising his own glass.

  "I've been here--let's see, how long have I been here? Three days--anda half, to be strictly accurate, and I've made one discovery, but onlyone."

  "What's that?" said the inspector, brisking up.

  "Well, it's what I came in to tell you about. But--don't let it go tothe rest of the Force."

  "Not me," was the emphatic reply.

  "Well then, Mervyn is hiding something."

  "Hiding something? Not the thing that did the job? Why there was notrace of any injury about the man."

  "No doubt. But Mervyn is hiding something. When I find that somethingwe shall have the key to the whole mystery."

  "Well, we didn't search the whole house," said Nashby. "It would takeabout a week to do that, and only three or four rooms were used at all.We searched that weird old family vault of a cellar though. There'snothing loose there. It's firm everywhere. He showed us over ithimself."

  "Of course he did. He'd have been a fool if he hadn't. But what he'shiding isn't in the house at all. It's outside."

  "Outside?"

  Helston Varne nodded.

  "Has a smack of that Moat Farm affair," said Nashby, "only there theyhad something definite to find--a body. Here we've nothing. But howdid you get at that for a clue?"

  "I've been down here three days--and a half, to be strictly accurate;there's nothing like accuracy. Yet I've hit upon that much. The otherday I thought I'd hit upon everything, but I hadn't quite. It was justone of those exciting moments when you miss a thing just by ahairsbreadth, as it were. But it's getting very warm--very warmindeed."

  Nashby filled a fresh pipe and said nothing. He was looking at theother enviously. Helston Varne's reputation, among the secret few, wasprodigious. If the scent was really getting very warm from his point ofview, why then the mystery was as good as solved. But then, Nashbywanted the credit of solving it to be his own.

  He wondered if Varne would manage things so that it might be. There wasa good deal of the amateur about Helston Varne he had been given tounderstand, clever, marvellously clever as he had proved himself. Atany rate, he was independent of material emolument, or at any rateseemed so. He seemed good-natured too. Perhaps whatever discovery hemade he would contrive to let him--Nashby--get the benefit of someappreciable share in it.

  The other smoked on in silence, the lamplight full on his strong,sun-browned, clear-cut face--a sun-brown that showed he had won hisreputation in tougher climates than this--as he had hinted to theinspector. Moreover, there was a marked difference between the two menwhich defined class distinction at a glance.

  "Anything more known about this young lady who's stopping at HeathHover, Nashby, beyond what you told me?" said Varne suddenly.

  "Why, yes. I got at something fresh to-day, only to-day." And theinspector began to bristle up with a sense, as it were, of renewedimportance. "Yes, only to-day, and I was going to tell you, but I waswaiting to hear what you had to say first, Mr Varne," he addeddeferentially. "She's Mervyn's niece right enough, on her mother'sside. Her father suicided. Jumped off a train, after taking a coupleof thousand pound accident insurance tickets, which he handed to her,with a joking remark, overheard unfortunately for him--for them--by astation inspector on the platform. Railway company repudiatedliability, and there you are."

  "Clumsy--very," pronounced the other, musingly. "Lord, what fools thereare in the world, Nashby. Why, there were half-a-dozen ways of workingthat trick, perfectly successfully and carrying far more money with themtoo."

  "Then she went as a music teacher in a suburban villa, and got clearedout; I suppose she was too pretty, and the old woman got jealous."

  "I don't know about that part of it, but she certainly is pretty," saidVarne. "She's more. She's lovely; and so absolutely uncommon looking.Well?"

  "Then she went to stay with a girl friend--and got ill. Her uncle heardof her, and got her down to keep house for him. So there you are again.I heard the particulars only this morning. The Yard can find outeverything, you see."

  Whether the other saw or not, he smiled, enigmatically. Perhaps he waswondering whether "The Yard" knew as much about what his then colleaguehad been telling him as he did himself.

  "She wasn't there at the time of the--happening," he said. "No, nottill--what? Nearly a month afterwards? And now she has been there overa fortnight. No, Nashby. Whatever the Yard can find out--or can't,"--again that smile came forward, "you can rule Miss--er--Seward out ofthis business altogether."

  The inspector felt a trifle disappointed. He thought he had found anew, and complicating, and rather interesting element in the case. Hewas a little inclined to feel rebellious against Helston Varne'sopinion, but then he had a very considerable respect for Helston Varne.

  "The tale about Heath Hover--it's rather interesting," went on thelatter. "I might have said extraordinary, but then, I don't know. I'vemet with just such extraordinary cases in the course of my experience,and have been the means of unravelling at least two of them. Now I'mgoing to try and see if this one will hang up at all on the same peg asour mystery, but--I don't know, I don't know."

  He had subsided into a meditative, almost dreamy tone, gazing into thefire, and emitting slow puffs of smoke. Nashby was eyeing him with atouch of increased veneration--likewise expectation. He was hoping toget those narratives before their evening had closed.

  "Have another whisky," he said, jumping up with alacrity. "I'm sorry,I'm sure. I ought to have seen you were empty."

  "Thanks. By the way, do you mind telling me again what is precisely thesource of scare that hangs round Heath Hover?"

  Inspector Nashby looked as if he rather did mind, for he seemed tohesitate.

  "Oh, it's only a lot of countryside superstition," he said. "But no onewho took the place has ever been able to stick it long. I don't knoweither, that any one has ever _seen_ anything. I think they only_hear_."

  The other nodded.

  "Just so. Reminds me of one of the cases I was just now referring to,one I was instrumental in clearing up. That was a matter of sound. Ithink I shall really have to obtain entrance to Heath Hover. You saythis man gets it rent free?"

  "At a nominal rent, yes."

  "Well, why doesn't the owner pull it down, and run up another house onanother site?"

  "Because--to put the matter nakedly--he's afraid to."

  "Afraid to?"

  "Yes. Afraid it would bring him bad luck--fatally bad luck. Old SirJohn Tullibard's a bit of a crank, and believes in that sort of thing.What's more, he's rather proud of owning a place with that kind ofreputation."

  "And that door--what did you say it does?"

  "Why, it opens of itself, when something is going to happen. It's acurious thing that Mervyn should have sworn it did this very thing thenight of this double barrelled event. But he did--and stuck to it."

  "Yes. It's certainly curious. Mervyn doesn't strike me as the sort ofman who'd decline to believe his eyesight. He's rather a hard-headedlooking chap I should say, and I can't get anything out of thesurrounding yokels about it. I've expended--let me see--at least twohalf crowns in the neighbouring pubs during the three days--and a half--since I came, trying to make them talk. But they shut up like steeltraps when you try and get them on the subject of Heath Hover."

  "So they would," said Nashby, "and for the reason that they hold it tobe dead unlucky even to talk about the yarns that hang around theplace."

  "Oh," and Varne smiled. He had noticed that very reluctance aboutNashby himself.

  "Do you believe there's anything in all that?" he said, facing the otherwith a very direct look. "You, yourself?"

  "Well, the fact is, Varne--and there's no denying it--very curiousthings do happen in some places. Things that there's no explaining orclearing up."

  "I agree with you, Nashby--as
to the first. Very curious things dohappen in some places--yes, very curious things. But as to there beingno explaining them, or clearing them up--why I don't go with you there.Now look here--I don't say it to brag--but given time, and nointerference, _and_ it being made worth my while, I undertake todis-ghost every haunted house in England."

  His keen face had lighted up. Nashby looked at him rather admiringly.The latter was