Going to bed at three o'clock on a winter morning in

a house whose ways are disquieting, after a duel in

which you escaped whole only by sheer good luck, does

not fit one for sleep. When I finally drew the covers

over me it was to lie and speculate upon the events of

the night in connection with the history of the few

weeks I had spent at Glenarm. Larry had suggested

in New York that Pickering was playing some deep

game, and I, myself, could not accept Pickering's statement

that my grandfather's large fortune had proved

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to be a myth. If Pickering had not stolen or dissipated

it, where was it concealed? Morgan was undoubtedly

looking for something of value or he would not risk

his life in the business; and it was quite possible that he

was employed by Pickering to search for hidden property.

This idea took strong hold of me, the more readily,

I fear, since I had always been anxious to see evil

in Pickering. There was, to be sure, the unknown alternative

heir, but neither she nor Sister Theresa was,

I imagined, a person capable of hiring an assassin to

kill me.

On reflection I dismissed the idea of appealing to

the county authorities, and I never regretted that resolution.

The seat of Wabana County was twenty miles

away, the processes of law were unfamiliar, and I

wished to avoid publicity. Morgan might, of course,

have been easily disposed of by an appeal to the Annandale

constable, but now that I suspected Pickering of

treachery the caretaker's importance dwindled. I had

waited all my life f or a chance at Arthur Pickering,

and in this affair I hoped to draw him into the open

and settle with him.

I slept presently, but woke at my usual hour, and

after a tub felt ready for another day. Bates served

me, as usual, a breakfast that gave a fair aspect to the

morning. I was alert for any sign of perturbation in

him; but I had already decided that I might as well

look for emotion in a stone wall as in this placid, colorless

serving man. I had no reason to suspect him of

complicity in the night's affair, but I had no faith in

him, and merely waited until he should throw himself

more boldly into the game.

By my plate next morning I found this note, written

in a clear, bold, woman's hand: The Sisters of St. Agatha trust that the intrusion upon

his grounds by Miss Armstrong, one of their students, has

caused Mr. Glenarm no annoyance. The Sisters beg that

this infraction of their discipline will be overlooked, and

they assure Mr. Glenarm that it will not recur.

An unnecessary apology! The note-paper was of the

best quality. At the head of the page "St. Agatha's,

Annandale" was embossed in purple. It was the first

note I had received from a woman for a long time, and

it gave me a pleasant emotion. One of the Sisters I had

seen beyond the wall undoubtedly wrote it-possibly

Sister Theresa herself. A clever woman, that! Thoroughly

capable of plucking money from guileless old

gentlemen! Poor Olivia! born for freedom, but doomed

to a pent-up existence with a lot of nuns! I resolved to

send her a box of candy sometime, just to annoy her

grim guardians. Then my own affairs claimed attention.




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