Under Sealed Orders Part 35

"So you've heard about it, have you?" Jasper questioned.

"Oh, yes. The whole country is wild with the news. I have been talking to a number of people and they are greatly worked up over the cowardly deed. Poor old David! He certainly was an innocent cuss."

"When did you first hear about it?" Jasper enquired.

"Not until late this morning. I am a sound sleeper."

"You surely must be. I don't see how any man could sleep with all the noise the men made pa.s.sing along the road last night. Were you up late, eh?"

"What do you mean?" and an angry light leaped into Bramshaw's eyes. "I wish you to know that I went to sleep with the birds last night."

"I am glad to hear of it. You didn't always keep such good hours, especially one night when I caught you prowling about my place.

Perhaps a hint to the wise was sufficient, and you have changed your manner of living."

"D---- you!" Bramshaw cried, rising to his feet. "I was willing to be friendly with you, but you insult me to my face."

"That's much better than insulting you behind your back, isn't it? You are sure who does it and you can act accordingly."

"Is that a challenge to fight?"

"Take it any way you like. I am anxious to get my hands on somebody to-day, for I want a little exercise. I'm getting tired of doing nothing."

"But there's nothing to be gained by fighting," Bramshaw protested.

"What reason have we for fighting?"

Jasper gave a sarcastic laugh, and looked the artist up and down.

"You certainly wouldn't gain much by fighting, but I would. Sydney Bramshaw, I believe you are a miserable sneak, ay, and worse, and it would be a great satisfaction for me to get my hands on your measly carca.s.s just for two minutes."

Under the impulse of the moment Jasper had left the road and approached close to the artist. The latter shrank back and his face paled at the action of his formidable opponent.

"Bah! I wouldn't touch you," Jasper sneered. "I wouldn't spoil your nice clothes and your soft delicate hands. Oh, no. Go on with your work of painting the beautiful things in nature."

For a few seconds Jasper stood and looked upon the man cowering before him. He longed to pierce his very soul that he might learn whether his suspicious were really true. He was tempted to startle him with a question about that envelope. But, no, he felt that it would be better to consult the lawyer before saying anything.

Leaving the artist, Jasper regained the highway with a bound, and hurried onward. It did not take him long now to reach the road leading to the Haven, and his angry mood pa.s.sed like a cloud from the face of the sun when he saw Lois standing there beneath the shade of a large tree. Her eyes brightened when she saw him, and without a word she held out her hand. For a few heartbeats neither spoke, but their eyes met, and Jasper knew by the look that Lois gave him that she at least was true and believed in him.

"You know all?" he stammered.

"No, not all," was the quiet reply. "But I know enough to make me certain that the people in this place are wrong in their suspicions."

"Whom do they suspect?" Jasper eagerly asked, thinking that perhaps he might learn something new.

"Don't you know?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I do," Jasper bitterly replied. "But I can endure it if I know that you believe me to be innocent."

"I certainly do, no matter what others think."

"What proof have you?"

"Your life; isn't that proof enough?"

"It may be to you, but I'm afraid it will count but little at the trial."

"At the trial!" Lois repeated in amazement. "Surely you'll not be-----"

"Arrested?" Jasper a.s.sisted, as Lois' voice faltered.

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"I'd like to know what's to prevent it. Wasn't I with David the night he was murdered, and wasn't that envelope with my name on it found by his body? Do you for one moment imagine that I can hope to escape a severe grilling and perhaps conviction with such evidence against me?"

"But it isn't right," and Lois stamped her foot impatiently. "It's only circ.u.mstantial evidence, and that shouldn't count."

"But it does. It has convicted many men before this. But tell me, did you learn what is troubling Betty?"

"It's about Mr. David, you know. She grieves very much over his death.

She loved the old man dearly, almost as if he were her own father."

"I know she feels badly. But isn't there something else troubling her as well? Didn't you notice it?"

"I did, but Betty would tell me nothing. I believe she has been frightened in some way, for at times she started up in terror, and her whole body trembled. I wonder what it can be!"

Before Jasper could reply, an auto swung up the road and stopped near them. There were two men in the car and almost intuitively Jasper knew that they were detectives. They looked keenly at the two standing beneath the tree, and then asked the way to Captain Peterson's. Jasper told them, and without another word they turned to the left and sped up to the house.

"Who are they, do you suppose?" Lois asked.

"They must be detectives," Jasper slowly replied.

"Oh!" It was all that Lois could say as she stood watching the car until it drew up before the Haven.

"I shall go back to my cabin now," Jasper remarked. "I expect Mr.

Westcote shortly, and so I must be there when he arrives."

Slowly they walked along the road to the gate leading to the Sinclair house. For a while neither spoke. Jasper realised that it would be a long time ere he would again be with her who was so dear to him.

Perhaps never, for who could tell what the lap of the future might contain? Lois was thinking of the same thing, and her heart was very heavy. There came to her mind the words Margaret had so lightly spoken over the tea-cup. Why had she not warned Jasper? she asked herself over and over again. Never before had she fully comprehended what this man really meant to her. He was the first one who had ever inspired her with the spirit of courage and endurance. Not once had she heard him whine or complain but, in her presence at least, he had always appeared as master of his fate. Now he was going from her, and she might never see him again. But no matter what happened she was sure that he would bear himself manfully, and fight to the very last.

Having reached the gate, they paused. Both knew that the moment for parting had come and strange feelings stirred their hearts. Jasper thought that Lois never looked so beautiful. Oh, if he were only certain that she loved him. If he could only take her in his arms and tell her of his love, and feel that his great love was returned; then he could go down into the dark valley of trouble, and perhaps death, with a braver heart. But, no, it would not do for him to tell of his love now with such a shadow hanging over his head. There were many things he longed to do, but all he did was to step forward, seize Lois'

right hand in his, and press it fervently to his lips. Instantly he realised his boldness.

"Forgive me," he cried, "but I could not help it."

"There is nothing to forgive," Lois quietly replied, though her heart was beating fast and her face was more flushed than usual. "You had better go now, for Mr. Westcote may come at any moment. Good-bye, and may G.o.d bless and keep you."

That was the hardest parting Jasper had ever known. But as he walked up the road a new spirit possessed his soul. He knew what it was to fight, for he had fought all his life long. But now he had the vision of a fair woman to sustain him, and for her sake, and to show her that he was worthy of her trust he would still fight the fiercest battle of all. What the outcome would be he could not tell, but he was determined to bear himself in such a manner that Lois would never be ashamed of him. He well knew that even a defeated man might be more of a conquerer than those who triumphed over him. And even as he walked there flashed suddenly into his mind a vision of the Man of Sorrows bearing his cross. Why had he not thought of Him before? he asked himself. There was his example to follow; there was the One who was the victor even on the cross, and there was the One to whom he could now turn for comfort in the hour of his great need.