The Paradise Mystery

rake's release. He had probably heard, on his release, that Ransford and his, Brake's, wife had gone abroad-in that case he would certainly follow them. He might have lost all trace of t

wn mind over and over again as he sped home to Wrychester-he pictured the police listening greedily to all that he could tell them if he liked. There was only one factor in the whole sum of the affair which seemed against him-the advertisement in the Times. If Brake desired to find Ransford in order to be revenged on him, why did he insert that advertisement, as if he were longing to meet a cherished friend again? But Bryce gaily surmounted that obstacle-full of shifts and subtleties himself, he was ever ready to credit others with trading in them, and he put the advertisement down as a clever ruse to attract, not Ransford, but some person who could give information about Ransford. Whatever its exact meaning migh

lf Club. It was her habit to go there almost every day, and Bryce was well acquainted with her movements and knew precisely where to waylay her. And empty of

ismissed assistant. But she had to pass through a wicket gate at that point, and Bryce barred the way, with unmistakable purpose. It was

nt and flushed face on him. "To waylay me here, when you know that I don't wa

when he spoke there was that in his voice wh

need offend you. It's true I waited here for you-it's the only place in which I thought I cou

gainst their instincts, even against their wills, that he was

if he is, and if you know he is

You know him-he can be nasty. That would bring matters to a c

erstand you,

earer to her-a

," he said in a low voice. "The s

h a sudden look of une

Ransford had something to do with that affair," answ

colour. "What could he have to do with it? What

knows everybody. There's a mystery around Braden's death-it's no use denying it. Nobody knows who he was, where he came from, why he came. A

nt agitation at the time of the Paradise affair-and his relief when the inquest was over-and his sending her with flowers to the dead man's grave and she

hat just before the body was discovered, Dr. Ransford was seen-seen, mind you!-leaving the west

they?" as

that one person was himself and the other imaginary. "But I can assure you that I am c

she exc

ufficient trust in you to know that you will, without any asking. Listen!-on that morning, Dr. Ransford went out of the surgery in the di

n?" asked Ma

-he had called because he had once known a Dr. Ransford, years before. He added something about calling again, and he went

mbling-and Bryce continued to watch her s

l this at the inquest?"

n that no one but myself knew that Braden had been to the surgery door-therefore, I thought that if I kept silence, his call

m?" ask

. "She happened to be looking out of an upstairs

demanded Mary, who knew M

e, "she did not! She told Mrs.

ked about!" e

ryce. "You know what Mr

will get to hear

e. "These things are talked of, hole-and-corner fashion, a long

ment before she ask

me all this?" she

a sudden head-of an unpleasant sort. These rumours spread-and the police are still keen about finding

Bryce, who had done all he wished to do at that

it all means-but it is Dr. Ransford's affair-if there is

club-house across the Common, while Bryce turned off to the town, highly elated with his morning's w

lence in order to ward off consequences which might indirectly be unpleasant for her. But of him and his news she thought little-what occupied her mind was the possible connection between the stranger who had come so suddenly and disappeared so suddenly-and for ever!-and Mark Ransford. Was it possible-really possible-that there had been some meeting between them in or about the Cathedral precincts that morning? She knew, after a moment's reflection, that it

l of old red brick. A door in that wall stood open, and inside it, talking to one of his gardeners, was Mr. Folliot-the vistas behind him were gay with

roses I've got," he said. "Beauties!

obby. But he was a passionate lover of flowers and plants, and had a positive genius for rose-culture, and was at all times highly

r up to a cluster of blooms of a colour and size which she

imed Mary. "I never

have to go to some of these learned parsons in the Close to invent me a Latin name for this-it's the result of

ct a handful of the finest blooms, whic

ou-or with Ransford. Do you know-does he know-that that confounded silly woman who lives near to your house-Mrs.

and gave him an answer which was t

thing," she said. "Wh

ho's nothing but an old chatterer, has been saying, here and there, that it's a very queer thing Dr. Ransford doesn't know anything about hi

" said Mary. "I never saw him-and I was in the garden,

amore was tattling about it in our house yesterday. He said, then, that he'd never s

" answe

why I mentioned it to you," he continued, nudging Mary's elbow and glancing covertly first at her and then at his house on the far side of the garden. "Ladies that are-getting on a bit in years, you know-like my wife, are apt to let their tongues wag, and between you and me, I shouldn't wonder if Mrs. Folliot has repeat

ad been to our house-what difference would that m

t her out of his

't tell that-at the inquest," he answered. "That'

with her roses, more thoughtful than ever. Mystery?-a bit of mystery? There was a vas