when john lee saw peter norcot at his horse's head, he was well satisfied. that norcot was determined he should not have any communication with cecil stark, john perceived, but he also knew that while peter stood beside him here, no harm could befall grace. to keep the man from returning to his house and his enterprise would answer lee's purpose quite as well as speech with stark.

"excellently met," said norcot. "i've waited long for you. i need not ask if 'victor' carried you well. but you're growing too busy, john lee. now come aside and explain why you are so active in this business. have a care, young man! you run into considerable danger."

"i don't fear you. and you know well enough the reasons that i am busy. you've hatched a piece of damnable knavery, and by god's goodness i overheard it. stark trusts you; you've deceived his honest heart. but i never trusted you. not one word of your wickedness surprised me."

"well, plain speaking is good for the soul, my poor john. and any soul-prescription may be worth your attention just now, for, unless you mend your manners, i shall have to be short and sharp with you.

"'the dreadful reckoning; and men smile no more.'

you overheard me and my cousin. was it all clear to you? were there any gaps? you may as well know exactly what is going to happen since the affair interests you so deeply. ask what questions you please, but be brief. poor 'victor'! you've made him gallop to-night."

norcot tethered his horse at a gate; then he entered it and lee followed him.

"come into the manor woods. i can give you half an hour, no more. after that time our little play begins, and i am to be wedded to grace malherb, for better, for worse. you know all that."

"and cecil stark?"

"stark, good soul, will play his part and press a wedding-ring upon my sister's finger. then the light of day serves to show him sergeant bradridge and a file of soldiers patiently waiting for his sapient person to convey him back to prince town."

"think better of it. don't blast your own life and that of this man and woman. she will always hate you, as she always has."

"advice! well, take some from me. i cannot stop long, but——"

"stop you shall, peter norcot! not until you've killed me do you return to this knavery."

"i was afraid you'd take that view. i don't want blood on my hands to-day. even i have my superstitions and sentiments. consider; if you detain me how things must fall awry. it would be the play of hamlet without the dane. why, my fool cousin might even lose his head and marry 'em, if that was possible! a pretty conceit. she'll feel my hand in the dead darkness and think 'tis his. i am dumb and he speaks the answers. he'll feel my sister's hand and think 'tis hers. gertrude is dumb, and grace speaks the answers. but these things cannot be managed without me. i must get back at any cost. my wedding tour is planned. better live to think of me and my happy bride upon the continent than perish in this cold dawn. death is so final."

"'tis you shall die, for i will kill you rather than let you return now."

"the possibility of this attitude on your part had occurred to me, john lee. unfortunately for yourself, you have never understood me. i am no enemy to any living man. i wish the world well. but i, too, have my life to live, and those who intervene between me and my plans and purposes pay for their blunder. i will tell you something, since we have no witness. it may help you to comprehend me and draw you out of the jaws of death, wherein frankly you stand at this moment. i killed my late uncle, norman norcot. i took his gun while he sat in thought, and thrust it under his chin and shot him like a rabbit. do you wish to follow him?"

without answering, john lee dashed forward at norcot's throat; but peter's hand, though in his pocket, was on a pistol trigger. he leapt swiftly aside, and before lee could turn, the wool-stapler had fired into his body. for a second john stood shaking; then he sank forward and fell on his face. frightened blackbirds fled shrieking, with shrill chink-chink-chink-chinketty-chink; the smoke arose and hung in a thin flat layer under the boughs of the trees.

"lucky wretch!" said the murderer, looking down. "'death is a morsel best bolted whole,' as divine montaigne remarks. naught is nastier to chew upon. may i go as easy when my turn comes!

"'light lay the earth, john lee, upon thy clay—

that so the dogs may easier find their prey.'

yes—squire yeoland's dogs, and his gamekeepers. it remains to plan your next appearance before i hasten on to my own."

he stood and reflected, then nodded his head quickly.

"they stand along the covert side at regular intervals, and happily i know how to find 'em. rest there, 'thou wretched, rash, intruding fool,' until i've found what i seek."

he put up his pistol, then looked at his watch.

"how time flies!"

turning round, peter now plunged into the forest, and at a covert side, where a drive was cut through dense larch woods with undergrowth of furze and briar, he began to make search, and advanced, foot by foot, with the utmost caution. each yard of the ground he scrutinised as though his own life depended upon it; and, indeed, the man's present quest did not lack for personal danger. here, a yard within the pheasant coverts, were set spring-guns two feet above the ground. the countryside raged against these infernal engines, but at that date they were legal, and a man might place them in his own preserves if it pleased him to do so.

norcot's purpose was now to discover one of these weapons and to drag john lee before it. he then designed to discharge the gun into his victim's wounded side, and so leave the corpse for others to find. with utmost care he pursued his search; and presently he started back with an oath, for his foot actually scraped a wire, and, looking up, he saw the short, squat muzzle of a gun fastened to a young larch and pointing straight at his belly. peter sweated at this escape. for a moment it unsteadied him. then tearing down an ash sapling, peeling it, and sticking it beside the wire, he returned hastily where the dead man lay—thirty yards distant.

now norcot deliberately took off his coat and waistcoat, that they might escape all mark of this deed. next, he bent down, grasped lee under the armpits, gripped his own hands round the other's back, and began steadily to drag him where stood the peeled ash wand at the edge of the copse.

he had approached to within ten yards of the wire, and was turning his head to see his exact position, when a startling quiver ran through the inert mass he dragged along. lee, though wounded to death, was not yet dead. his feet stuck to the ground, and peter felt a pair of arms, limp until now, suddenly lifted and tightening round his waist. this unexpected spark of life galvanising a corpse shook him. his own breast was wet with the other's blood, for john bled from the lung; but he was still alive, and norcot guessed at his vitality by the sudden tightening of the wounded man's arms round his neck. for answer he squeezed his wretched burden with a hug like a bear, whereon poor lee relaxed his hold and his head fell forward again. but just as peter had reached the wire and was about to drop the dying man in a line with the muzzle of the spring-gun, john's consciousness returned. he appeared to divine the enemy's intent, and for a moment his strength waxed and he struggled desperately. drenched with blood and blinded by lee's arm over his face, peter started back, to be free of his foe, took him by the throat and hurled him to the ground with all his strength.

"die!" cried the murderer. "cease this struggling like a stuck pig and die decently. i——"

john had hold of the other's leg, but norcot kicked him and tore himself free as he spoke. the force of this action, however, made peter lose equilibrium. he stepped backwards, hit a hidden root, slipped his foot and fell heavily upon the wire of the spring-gun.

lee, kicked in the face, had fainted; but he was out of the line of fire; and now he recovered consciousness in time to gaze about him and witness the end of peter norcot.

the unlucky wool-stapler, falling as he struck the wire, had received the charge, at close quarters, in his back. the shot, though intended to maim or wound, but not to kill, was, under these circumstances, and at this range, fatal. moments separated norcot from death. the stinging, red-hot agony of the blow did not deprive him of consciousness. then, using his last breath, he cried aloud—

"death and hell—done for! to leave life now! no luck! tut—urg—gurg——"

and lee, with fading eyes, saw peter norcot's life-blood choke him.

thrice he writhed; thrice he beat the earth with his hands and fought for air; then he perished.

cock pheasants began to crow in the coverts; and far away, a keeper, hearing gun-fire, put a whistle to his mouth and blew it.