"Why didn't you tell this at the inquest."
"Because I didn't. Clarence is my own sister's son. I could not see him hanged. He had to hold his tongue, although he wanted the fan back again. But I insisted that Theophilus should make the money out of it. This is Clarence's revenge. Because the fan is kept from him he threatens Theophilus; oh Olivia, _do_ ask your husband to leave the matter alone, I will give up that mortgage--"
"I can do nothing," said Olivia, "it isn't in my husband's power. He has written to Rodgers--"
"But he has not told him anything," said Miss Pewsey eagerly.
"Then he shall see _me_, and I'll tell him of Clarence's wickedness. But the fan--the fan--we'll get the money and Theophilus will come back to be loved and respected. I don't love him, but I see we can make a lot of money together. The fan," said Miss Pewsey counting on her lean fingers, "the money from Lo-Keong--the money of Sophia and--"
"Oh," cried Olivia in disgust, "go away you miserable creature, and think of the hereafter."
Miss Pewsey gave a shrill laugh. "You can't help me, and your husband can't help me, so I'll go. But when I come back here, it shall be as mistress. I hate you Olivia--I have always hated you--I--I--oh you"--she could utter no more, but gasping, shook her fist and ran out of the window and down the avenue with an activity surprising in a women of her years.
After dinner and while they were seated in the library, Olivia told Rupert of Miss Pewsey's visit and accusation. He declined to believe the tale. "If Burgh was guilty he wouldn't have brought an accusation against Forge," he said, "as the doctor, if this is true, knows the truth. And Forge, if innocent, would not have cleared--"
While Ainsleigh was thus explaining, the door was burst open and Mrs. Petley, white as chalk, rushed in. "The ghost--the ghost," said she dropping into a chair, "the monk--in the Abbey."
Anxious to learn if there was any truth in these frequent apparitions reported by Mrs. Petley, Rupert left the swooning woman to the care of his wife and departed hastily from the room. Calling old Petley, he went out of the front door across the lawn and into the cloisters. Petley, hobbled almost on his heels with a lantern. The young man stopped at the entrance to the cloisters, and listened. It was raining hard and the ground was sopping wet. But beyond the drip of the rain, and the sighing of the trees, no sound could be heard. Snatching the lantern from Petley, Rupert advanced boldly into the open, and swung the light too and fro and round about. He could see no ghost, nor any dark figure suggestive of Abbot Raoul.