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and, if he had been speaking the truth, would have added, in an unusual state for him?kimi 361Oh dear lord!He took off the robe and slowly got into bed again. Tomorrow he would go up into the attics and go through them, through all the old furniture, the boxes, and any place where a knife was likely to be hidden.What was Mr Douglas doin' scramblin' about in the attics? He had the whole place turned upside down. He said he was lookin* for a map that he remembered bein* used in the schoolroom up there. Well, the boys* books were still scattered on the shelves of the schoolroom. He had described it to Bright, and Bright had described it to Mrs Pullman, and she had passed on the description to the girls, but nobody could remember ever seein' a map that was encased in a hard brown leather-back and fastened with a buckle, and the whole thing no bigger than one's hand. Apparently, there were dotted in it the positions of some old obscure quarries and he wanted the locations to see if there was any decent stone left ... He was a funny fella, was Mr Douglas. And a bit odd, too, in that he had gone into trade.

Nobody in the Filrnore family had ever gone into

362trade. The family had already been goin* down the hill for years, and with this, as Bright said, they had reached bottom.After two days and the map not having been found, Mr Douglas seemingly gave up his search. But then his mode of work changed. He used to spend nearly all his time in his workshop with his man and boy, but two mornings running now, Joseph Bell, one of the two gardeners, had reported that Mr Douglas had taken to going walks with Gippo. Well, as everybody knew, Gippo was a lazy dog, and it seemed content to lie either inside or outside his workroom all day; and it was getting on and past caring for long walks. It would scamper now and again in the fields after a rabbit, but that was as far as it went. Then yesterday he had the dog out for four hours!Where did he go?Joseph didn't know exactly, but probably the town, for he went in the direction of Brook's Wood and that was the shortest way to town. He would have to go through the factory quarter. Not a very nice area. He surely wouldn't have wanted anything there. He had always been a bit odd in his ways, 363had Mr Douglas. All right in his head, oh aye. Yet, when you come to think of it, it was the head that ordered the ways, wasn't it? ...Douglas's head had led him once again to the glade, and as he stood watching the dog sniffing about he told himself of the futility of the search. It wasn't likely, if he had done this terrible deed, that Lionel would have immediately buried his knife; he would have been in too desperate a state to think about it. No; it was more likely that he would take it home and hide it there. He would start on the attics again tomorrow.But why? Why? It was going to do no good, only cause a lot of pain, even if he could prove anything. And then there was Bridget. What would the effect be on her if her protege was proved to be innocent and had been hanged for a crime he did not cornmit? Oh, God in heaven! She would blazen that from one end of the country to the other. Yet, would she, knowing how it would affect Victoria and the coming child? Oh, let him get home. The best thing he could do about all this business, was to forget it. But then he couldn't forget it, he wouldn't forget 364it. If that man was innocent then Lionel must be guilty . . .'Gippo! Gippo! Come here!'The dog took no notice, but scampered into the brushwood on the heels of a rabbit, and so Douglas, knowing that the rabbit would have the best of it and would disappear down a hole, waited. But when Gippo didn't return, his mouth open, his tongue lolling as if saying, I gave it a run for its money, he pushed his way around some bushes and there in the near distance he saw the dog scratching at a hole. And when he got up to him he bent down and said, 'It's a fool's game, and you know it. That little lady or gent will have a series of bolt-holes that will reach to the end of the wood. You're wasting your time. Come on.'As if he had indicated to the dog that a bolt-hole was on the opposite side of the tree the dog now ran round and began to scratch amid thick tangled roots. And Douglas, smiling now, said again, 'You're wasting your time, laddie.'Sensing this was a game, Gippo again moved part way round the trunk and once more started scratching. And now Douglas

365cried at him impatiently, 'Come on! Come on! You've had enough,' and, bending down he gripped him by the collar, just as the dog's paw, having caught on something like a piece of paper, pulled it slightly upwards. 'Come on with you!' He took his hand from the dog's collar and slapped it on the hind quarters, pushing it away, and had taken two steps from the tree when he stopped, stood still for a moment, then looked over his shoulder at the dirty piece of >aper. Now he was bending over it and, delicately, his finger and thumb touched it and irew it from the ground. His heart racing as it would leap from his mouth, he pulled at /hat he saw to be a soiled and stained hand:erchief, and as the last part of it left the iole there lay a knife. As if the material had >urned him, he lifted his hand quickly away from it, the fingers spread taut; and then the land was outstretched against the trunk of the tree for support. His eyes were closedland he was saying aloud, 'God Almighty!SGod Almighty!' while all the time his eyesjwere staring fixedly on the handkerchief andIthe knife.How long he stood there he didn't know.

366but he had to force himself now to bend and pick up the articles: first, the handkerchief. He held it by the hem, then moved his fingers to a corner, and there, dark-stained but evident were the embroidered initials, L. F. His mother had spent, not only days and weeks, but years with her needle. Everything in the house in the way of linen was embroidered or initialled.He looked at the knife: the blade was still open, it was rusted. This was the kind of knife that most riders carried.He now took a handkerchief from his own pocket and carefully wrapped the two things in it. Then looking down on the dog, he said, 'You don't know what you have done this day, Gippo. I could have let it slide while knowing in my heart the guilty one, but not any more.'

He stayed late in the workshop. He knew that Lionel had returned home and he knew, as was his wont, he would be sitting drinking in the dining-room after Victoria had gone to bed and the servants, too, had retired He was often accompanied in this pastime by his father. Well, tonight he hoped Ms father wouldn't be there. But even if he were, he couldn't keep this to himself any longer, He had been over his approach again and again; he knew exactly what he was going to do. It wasn't, however, what he wanted to do: he wanted to take his brother by the throat and bring him to the same end that he had brought that man. And then there was that poor fellow. He could think of him now as that poor fellow, stressing his innocence all along. And all the while he was imprisoned

368and then the case going on, his dear brother had got on with his life as though ignorant of it all. He had dared to go to the altar rails and take a wife, a young innocent girl, just hours after he had murdered a man. What kind of an individual was he? A fiend?He now put out two of the lanterns in the workroom, picked up the third, and went out.He entered the house by a side door that led into the hall. The drawing-room door was half open and he could see his father shambling towards the couch. As far as he could see there was no one else there, which meant that if Lionel wasn't in the smoking room he had already gone upstairs, likely to pacify his wife for his absence.Slowly he made his way along the corridor and as slowly and as quietly opened the door of the smoking room. Lionel was there.Lionel had turned his head in a lackadaisical fashion to see who had entered the room, and espying his brother, he said,

'Here comes the workman, one of the busy bees of this world. God has niches for us all, the high and the low and . . .''Shut your filthy mouth!'

369Lionel brought his head from the back of the hide-covered chair and his large eyes became slits in the high ruddy colour of his face. He stared at the figure standing stiffly in front of him before he said on a kind of tolerant laugh, 'Did I hear aright? Is my little brother once again getting on his moral hind legs?

What has he heard this time? Does he want to say, where have you been, you naughty boy? And what naughties have you ... ?'When his whole body was knocked back tight against the chair and hands came on his throat, his eyes nearly popped out of his head for a moment. And his own hands, gripping Douglas's wrists, took a number of seconds before he could wrestle them from his flesh; yet his release had actually been brought about by Douglas himself: he was again standing taut. And now Lionel growled at him, 'What the hell's got into you?'For answer, Douglas thrust his hand into his pocket and brought out a clean handkerchief, unfolded it and held it out towards Lionel, allowing the contents to lie between his two palms. And now he watched the colour

370drain from Lionel's face; then his Adam's apple flutter in his throat, and his chest heave; and only after further swallowing did he draw in a long breath and gasp, 'It . . . it was an accident.5'You don't cut another man's throat by accident.''You don't know anything about it. He was at me, he was blackmailing me. He was . . .''Yes, I know what he was about to do, he was going to reveal that your son had just recently been born through a young, innocent girl and that would put a stop to your security, wouldn't it?

You wouldn't have minded losing Victoria, but not two thousand a year. Oh, you couldn't bear to think of losing that. You dirty rotten swine, you!''It wasn't ... it wasn't like that. He was . . . Anyway, what are you going to do?''What do you think I'm going to do?' And Douglas's anger was such that he couldn't stay the vehement words. 'I'm going to see that the same is done to you as was done to that man Joe Skinner.''Begod! you'll not.' Now Lionel was bringing the words out through his clenchedi 371teeth. I'll do for you first. By God! I will. And give me that here!' As his hand went out to grab the handkerchief and its contents Douglas sprang back, thrust the articles into his pocket, then stood, his slim body went forward, his elbows away from his sides and his fists doubled. So when Lionel came at him, his fists flailing, he was checked by a blow to the stomach and then one to his face. But such was his bulk and height he was only momentarily staggered, and he now almost threw himself bodily on Douglas and with such force that they both toppled to the floor, upsetting a table with a decanter and glasses on it, then they rolled over the rug and towards the fireplace, each aiming for the other's throat, and it was the pressure of the filigreed steel fender against the side of his head that made Douglas aware that the life was being choked out of him. In desperation he twisted and groped for the poker he knew was resting at the end of the fender. Finding it, his immediate reaction was to aim it at Lionel's head.Into the deepening blackness came a pale light. He could breathe, He heard a voice screaming above him; 'God in heaven!

372Blazes!' Then he felt himself being lifted from the floor and Bright was saying, 'Come on, sir. Come on.' Bright was dabbing at his neck with a napkin and when he slowly put up his hand to it it was wet. He licked his fingers and they tasted salty. His vision was still blurred, but now he could make out his father standing over Lionel, who was lying back in the chair again as if he had never moved out of it. But the blood was running down the side of his face, and his father was yelling at Bright now, 'Bring a dish of water and some towels, and keep the women out!''Yes, sir. Yes, sir.'The man ran from the room and William Filmore, looking from one to the other, said, 'My God! We've come to something now, out to murder each other.'Tor ... for a second time.' The mutter came from Douglas.'What?' His father was leaning towards him. 'What d'you mean, a second time?''He ... he was out to finish me as he did the man in the wood.'William Filmore straightened his back and it seemed for a moment that even the bulge of his stomach receded, and his voice

373was a whisper as he said, 'What are you saying, son? What are you saying?'For answer Douglas put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the handkerchief and, the other hand now letting go of the napkin, he spread the evidence on his palms as he said to his father. 'He ... he buried these in the wood. The dog unearthed them.''No! No! Never. It must be a mistake. He couldn't.' He now turned and glanced to where Lionel was lying back in the chair, his eyes closed, his hand still to the side of his face, and he muttered, 'A man swung for it. A man . . .'He now gripped the back of the chair; then shambling to the front of it he lowered himself slowly down, one hand clutching the edge of the table as if to steady himself, his mouth opening and shutting as if he were gasping for air.When at this moment Bright carne hurrying into the room carrying a dish of water and with a number of hand towels slung over his shoulder, the old man turned his head and looked at him. His mouth remained open for a time and as if he were about to say something, then he pointed towards Lionel, at the same time becoming aware of the 374female figure standing in the doorway, and in a croaking bawl he cried, 'Get out! Away!'After the door had banged shut he looked again towards Bright, who was now wiping the blood from Lionel's face; and he cried to him, 'Give me a towel!'The butler swiftly brought a hand towel and handed it to his master, saying as he did so, 'It's a laceration above the ear, sir,' indicating Lionel with a movement of his hand; 'the hair should be cut,' to which he received for answer only a sharp nod of assent.William now pulled himself slowly to his feet, went to Douglas and, taking his hand away from his throat, he wiped the blood from his neck and when he saw the oozing jagged line, he said as if with relief, 'It's . . . it's just a surface tear;' then he glanced back to where one of Lionel's hands was lying on the arm of the chair. And now he added,* 'Twas his ring. Always said it was like a knuckle-duster.' Then dabbing again at Douglas's neck, he muttered, 'It's all right. It's all right. 'Tisn't serious.'When Douglas now muttered bitterly, ' 'Tisn't his fault,' and would have gone on, his father stopped him with a grimace and a 375slight jerking of his head towards where Bright was still dabbing away at LioneFs wound.The old man now went over to the butler nd, pushing him aside, said, 'Let me see.' And he parted the hair above Lionel's ear, then said abruptly, 'Bring me the scissors.'After Bright had scurried from the room William stood back from his sons and, his voice holding a note of sadness, he said, 'This house is fated. Indeed to God! it's fated.'A minute or so later Bright returned with the scissors, and the hair having been snipped from behind Lionel's ear to reveal the extent of the wound, he said, 'It needs attention, sir, don't you think?' And in answer to this, after a long pause, his master said gruffly, 'Get Mrs Pullman to tear some sheeting and bring some of that carbolic stuff. That'll settle things till tomorrow; then we'll see about a doctor.'It seemed that the word 'doctor' revived Lionel, for, aiming now to pull himself up in the chair, he said, 'I want no doctor. I'm all right.''Aye, begod! you're all right. You've got 376enough whisky in you to sterilize any cuts, but for how long do you think you're going to be all right after this night's work? And your previous work. My God! I can't believe it. If that comes out, I can't imagine how you'll be able to talk yourself out of it.''And he won't!'At this Lionel's head jerked in the direction of his brother, and he growled at him, It's a pity I didn't do for you, too. You bloody sneaking, crawling wasp!''Enough!'The door opened again and when Bright appeared with the sheeting and the carbolic, his master said, 'Get rid of all that lot out there. And'-he pointed towards the door now-'and tell them to mind their tongues. In fact, tie them up. There has been a little quarrel, you understand?''Yes, sir.