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- 5. Essentials of Management Information Systems KENNETH C. LAUDON AND JANE P. LAUDON Essentials of Management Information Systems KENNETH C. LAUDON AND JANE P. LAUDON continued Systems Systems CHAPTER 6 TELECOMMUNICATIONS, THE INTERNET, AND WIRELESS TECHNOLOGY CASE 2 Virtual Collaboration for Lotus Sametime VIDEO CASE TAGS Unified communications; collaboration; virtual; IBM; Lotus Sametime. SUMMARY Lotus Sametime is an IBM virtual collaboration environment which is used by firms as a part of their enterprise systems. The objective of these systems is to increase collaboration among remote or mobile work teams while not increasing travel costs and meeting costs. Using video, audio, and interactive software, Lotus Sametime allows groups of people to meet electronically even though they are geographically separated. L=3:33. URL http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJJWx552lFE continued CASE Lotus Sametime is IBM’s telepresence and collaboration environment. Sametime is a part of the IBM/Lotus product offering. It is widely used in large Fortune 500 firms. IBM describes the main features of Sametime as: ● ● Presence-awareness—when online, your location and contact information, are available to all your contacts—whether you are at your desk, in your home office, or in transit using a mobile phone. ● ● Security-rich, enterprise-scale instant messaging
- 6. Chapter 6 Case 2 Virtual Collaboration for Lotus Sametime 2 ● ● Online meetings with integrated voice (VoIP) and high-quality desktop video ● ● Out-of-the-box integration with IBM Lotus, IBM WebSphere and Microsoft products ● ● Open application programming interfaces (APIs) and an extensible client. Benefits IBM claims the following benefits for Lotus Sametime: ● ● Answer business questions quickly: Spend less time trying to find people who can answer questions and more time being productive. ● ● Speed business processes: Reduce the time to complete a business process. ● ● Cut travel, conferencing and communication costs: See who is available right now and let the software find them. Use online meetings, Voice over IP (VoIP) and more. Organizations can reduce travel expenses, lower audio- and Web-conferencing service expenses, and dramatically reduce telephony expenses. These cost savings are large enough that Sametime unified communications (UC) implementations typically pay for themselves in under a year. ● ● Enable dispersed teams to collaborate: Speed project completion for teams in different locations, countries, and time zones. Include mobile employees. ● ● Hire and keep the best talent: Evolve a more collaborative culture across teams—around the world or in the same building. Provide better employee work-life balance by extending the ability to work virtually anywhere while ensuring effective management and working environment. ● ● Make it easy for people to access UC functions from their desktop apps: See—right within applications—who is available for collaboration and then communicate in a single click. ● ● Provide people choice and flexibility in collaboration to get the job done: Move seamlessly—via a unified user interface—among text chats, voice and video calls, and online meetings—whatever best fits the situation. With Sametime software, quick text chats can answer simple questions outright or can be escalated to multiway voice or video chats or an online meeting. Tightly integrated tools in Sametime software make it easy to switch communications and collaboration methods as your conversation evolves. ● ● Unify and extend your communications environment: Gain integrated voice, computer and telephony. Use Sametime software’s integrated voice over IP (VoIP) and high-quality desktop video capabilities—or use third-party plug- continued
- 7. Chapter 6 Case 2 Virtual Collaboration for Lotus Sametime 3 continued ins—to integrate with your existing systems. Use optional onenumber phone service, softphone and intelligent call management capabilities through an existing telephony infrastructure. ● ● Protect your investments in applications, voice and video: Leverage your current communications and application environment rather than ripping and replacing it. Sametime software supports and integrates with multiple client and server operating systems, e-mail platforms, directories, telephony, audio conferencing and video conferencing systems. (IBM, Online meetings with Lotus Sametime software, 2010) One of the major attractions of Sametime is its use as a collaboration tool. Sametime online meetings (Web conferencing) allow rich collaboration with team members around the world—inside or outside the enterprise. There are many potential benefits from using online meetings to share documents, applications and screens. Projects can be completed more quickly when teams don’t have to wait for e-mail exchanges or travel to face-to-face meetings. High-quality audio and video capabilities can enhance the collaborative experience, providing context through subtle signals such as body language that would otherwise be missing from a basic Web conference. Organizations can spend less on travel. Lower telephony and audio conferencing expenses. And reduce or eliminate expensive recurring fees for hosted web conferencing services. Virtual Sametime: Avatar Collaborators In 2009 IBM introduced its virtual version of Sametime. The original (and still available) version of Sametime operates in a standard Windows menu environment. Users can arrange for and plan meetings, invite participants, conduct meetings, take polls, and product documents. The virtual edition described in the case video adds an “immersive environment” where users select avatars to play their roles. Supplementing the basic edition with a virtual environment offers many potential benefits: more friendly user-interface, ease of use, and the attraction of a contemporary game-like environment, not to mention the popularity of the James Cameron movie “Avatar.” Briefly, avatars are popular and fascinating. Whether or not they contribute to better collaboration in firms is something you will have to decide. Sources: IBM.com.
- 8. 1. Based on the video and text of the case, list and briefly describe five areas where either version of Sametime may increase employee productivity. What do you think will produce the greatest increase in employee productivity? 2. How does Lotus Sametime support collaboration? What are the additional benefits of the virtual environment? 3. The case mentions “presence awareness.” What is presence awareness and of what use is it? 4. What types of communication are integrated within Sametime’s digital environment? What type of communication is missing? Does it make a difference? 5. Do you think that “virtual collaboration” using avatars is more or less effective than traditional methods of collaboration (which include face-to-face, traveling to meetings, telephone conference calls, email, and instant messaging)? VIDEO CASE QUESTIONS COPYRIGHT NOTICE Copyright © 2012, 2013 Kenneth Laudon. Copyright © 2012, 2013 Pearson Education. This work is protected by United States copyright laws and is provided solely for the use of instructors in teaching their courses and assessing student learning. Dissemination or sale of any part of this work (including on the World Wide Web) will destroy the integrity of the work and is not permitted. The work and materials from this site should never be made available to students except by instructors using the accompanying text in their classes. All recipients of this work are expected to abide by these restrictions and to honor the intended pedagogical purposes and the needs of other instructors who rely on these materials. Chapter 6 Case 2 Virtual Collaboration for Lotus Sametime 4 continued
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- 10. "Buy his freedom, I expect," said Ritson grimly. "What do you mean by that?" "Well," the lawyer took up a quill pen, and began to play with it. "Mr. Herries is certainly entitled to fifty thousand a year, but he has to do something to earn it." "Do what?" asked Browne more and more perplexed. Ritson bent forward. "He has to find out who killed Sir Simon, and thereby earn his freedom, and the money." "I am still in the dark. Will you explain?" "I have told you enough." "You will have to tell me more," said Browne, determinedly. "My duty to my dead client----" "See here," the little doctor jumped up, and slapped his hand down on the desk, "there was no need for you to have told me anything, so it is too late to talk of your duty to your dead client; but as you have told me so much, you must tell me everything." "Yes," Ritson nodded his silvery-white head, "you are right. I have committed a breach of legal etiquette. Miss Tedder should have been the first to hear the will, which has to be read after the funeral at 'The Moated Hall.' But then Mr. Herries, who inherits, should also be present, and he is accused of the crime." "He has escaped the immediate consequences," said Browne, meaningly. "Do you know where he is?"
- 11. "Good Lord, how should I know?" cried Browne explosively. He was not quite sure as to the truth of Ritson's statement, and thought that it might be a trap to lure Herries from his hiding-place. "You are a friend of Mr. Herries, and you went to Desleigh, as Inspector Trent told me." "Quite so. But I was with Inspector Trent at the time Herries escaped out of the window of his bedroom." "Then you do not know where he is?" "No!" said the doctor, lying manfully. Ritson looked depressed. "That is a pity," he muttered, "for unless I can see him, I don't know how to put things right." "Explain them to me." The lawyer turned on his visitor in the twinkling of an eye. "You do not know where he is?" Browne was not at all disconcerted, having had one moment in which to think of a plausible answer. "If Herries communicates with anyone it will be with me," he said, quietly, "as he knows that I am his firm friend, and believe in his innocence." "You do,--you really do?" "Certainly. Herries did not even know that his uncle was in the inn, and certainly could not have known that he was the heir."
- 12. "No, No," Ritson rapped his teeth with the feathered end of the quill- pen, "yet the evidence is dead against him." "I am with you there. All the same," here Browne shamelessly pilfered Kyles' ideas, "the evidence is so clear that I believe my friend to be innocent." "Hum! Hum! Hum!" Ritson cleared his throat, and settled his old- fashioned black satin scarf, "quite so,--quite so. Then you think, doctor," he leaned forward, confidentially, "that this very clear evidence was got together to implicate Mr. Herries in a crime of which he has no knowledge?" "I am sure of it. Inspector Trent has given his version, which is coloured by the belief that Herries is guilty. Let me tell you the other side, Mr. Ritson." "I am all attention," said the lawyer, placing the tips of his fingers together, and looking up at the ceiling. Browne thereupon detailed all that he had heard, and seen at the inn. But he did not yet trust Ritson so far as to relate how Herries had found a refuge in Kind's caravan, nor did he state that Kind himself was an ex-detective, sworn to assist the accused man, out of gratitude. Ritson listened in profound silence, and when the recital was finished he did not commit himself to a statement. On the contrary, he again began his game of chess with the sealing-wax, pens and paperweights, and asked an irrelevant question. "And you saw Miss Tedder?" "Yes. She believes, on Trent's authority, that her cousin is guilty." "Consequently, she is much disturbed," suggested the lawyer. Browne smiled cynically.
- 13. "You place too much faith in human nature, Mr. Ritson. Miss Tedder seems most anxious to get her cousin hanged." "Hey, hey," Ritson sat bolt-upright with his hands on the arms of his chair, "say that again, my good sir." Browne did say it again, and said more. He gave a detailed version of the interview, of the coming of the telegram announcing the finding of Armour in the ditch, and of the opinion of Captain Bruce Kyles, which was so much at variance with Miss Tedder's. Ritson stared hard at the little doctor, as he told his tale dramatically, and when it was ended he rose and went to look out of the window. "This is very remarkable," said Ritson, turning from looking at the busy High Street to look at Dr. Browne. "Very!" assented the medical man, saying as little as he could. "And what is your opinion?" asked Ritson, returning to his seat. "I have none, save that Herries is innocent." "Then you don't think," said the lawyer, again playing chess, "that Miss Tedder in some way has heard of the will which disinherits her, and is anxious to have her cousin hanged so that she may get back the money." "Will she get back the money if he is hanged?" asked Browne artfully. "Why, yes. I pleaded for the girl. It seems that Maud--I have known her from a baby, so I can call her by her Christian name--well then, it seems that Maud insisted on marrying Captain Kyles, a man of whom Sir Simon did not approve." "I don't wonder at that; the man is an adventurer."
- 14. "So Sir Simon thought. However, his looks--the scamp is certainly handsome--captured the affections of Miss Maud, and she declared that she would marry him. Sir Simon told her that if she did, he would disinherit her. He carried out his threat by leaving all his money to the nephew whom he treated so badly. But I pointed out that Maud ought to have enough to live on. Sir Simon disagreed, and said that Maud should have everything or nothing. Finally, he yielded,--in a way!" "In what way?" "He left the money to Herries for life and afterward to Maud. Meantime she gets one thousand a year." "I see. Then you think that Maud wishes to see her cousin hanged so that she may inherit the money at once." Ritson did not reply at once to this question. "It is difficult to say," he observed, at length. "I cannot make up my own mind, and that is why I have consulted you,--why I have violated the confidence of my client. It is enough to get me struck off the Rolls, and very rightly too." "Anything you say is safe with me," said Browne, sympathising with the lawyer's desire to act rightly. "You see," continued Ritson, still defending himself, "as the circumstances of the case are so dreadful, time is of every value, therefore, I thought it best to anticipate, in confidence, of course, the reading of the will. What do you advise?" "Ah, I don't know all the circumstances of the case," said Browne cautiously. "What, for example, do you mean by saying that Herries would have to buy his freedom with his money?" "Well," said Ritson, nursing his chin, "if he is guilty----"
- 15. "He is not!" "We will presume for the sake of argument that he is," pursued the solicitor. "Well, then, if Mr. Herries is guilty, he will have to use his money to get the best lawyer in England to defend him, or else----" Ritson hesitated. "I am aware that I am suggesting the compounding of a felony," he said nervously, "but Mr. Herries might employ this money to escape,--that is, he might bribe people to hold their tongues until he is beyond pursuit." "I don't think Herries would do that," said Browne vigorously; "he knows that he is innocent, and will prove his innocence in some way. He is not the man to lie idle under such a stigma." "He is unlucky." "Very unlucky,--a perfect Jonah, as he is fond of calling himself." "Well, his luck has turned, seeing he has inherited the money." "I don't agree with you, Mr. Ritson. He has to remain in hiding, because he is accused wrongfully of murder, and again, you told me that he does not get the money until he has found out who killed his miserable uncle." "Quite so, but if he does, he will at once prove his entire innocence, and gain a fortune. That is good luck." "Luck which is yet to come. Why did Sir Simon make it a proviso that Herries should seek for his assassin? Did he then expect to be murdered?" "Yes, and for that reason, along with the other--Maud's love for Captain Kyles--he made the will." "Did he tell you whom he expected would kill him?"
- 16. "No! I asked him, as the proviso was so strange: but he told me as little as possible." "You gained no clue to a possible assassin." "I did not." "Is there anything in his past life which made you guess that----?" Ritson interrupted. "There is nothing. So far as I know Sir Simon was perfectly safe, and there was no reason to think that his life was threatened by anyone. Apparently it was, however, since he made such a will. And it is stranger still," added the lawyer meditating, "that he should have made me write a letter setting forth the fact that he had left the money to Herries." Browne jumped up so quickly that he overturned the chair. "What?" "It is as I told you," said Ritson, composedly. "When the will was signed and witnessed, he asked me to write a letter." "Have you a copy?" "Certainly. I insisted on keeping a copy, although Sir Simon was none too pleased. But I refused to sign my name to a letter unless I had a copy, especially," added Ritson slowly, "as I did not know to whom the letter was written." "You should not have written it then," snapped Browne, annoyed at seeing his hopes of clearing Herries dashed to the ground. Ritson touched the bell, and when the clerk appeared gave him instructions to bring in the letter book. While the boy was absent he turned again to Browne.
- 17. "You don't know how determined Sir Simon was," he said quietly, "and moreover, when you read the letter you will see that there is no reason why I should not have written it. He asked for an envelope, and addressed the letter himself. My clerk copied it, and brought it in. Sir Simon slipped it into an envelope--the one he had directed secretly--and went away. That was several days ago, and I have never seen Sir Simon since. I never even heard of him until Inspector Trent, knowing that I was his lawyer, called to inform me of his lamented death, and to invite me, as the late knight's legal adviser, to attend the inquest." "You did not see the address?" "No. I caught sight of one word however,--quite by accident." "What was the word?" "Well," hesitated Ritson fidgetting, "it certainly might throw some light on the mystery of his death, although I scarcely think so. But to betray a client's business relations is----" "The affair is too serious to admit of a tender conscience," said Browne, imperiously. "Herries is in danger of his life, and I believe Maud Tedder knows much more than she chooses to tell. Seeing what her attitude is, I am determined to save Herries and prevent her getting the money." "Surely you don't think that Maud knows who killed her father, and is deliberately sacrificing her cousin?" "I don't know what to think," answered Browne impatiently. "We can talk of that later. Tell me what word you saw." "Tarabacca!" "What does that mean?" asked Browne puzzled.
- 18. "I can't tell you. But the word I saw was certainly something like that. I can't be sure of the spelling, but it conveyed something like tobacco to my mind. Tarabacca," repeated the lawyer, as his clerk entered with the letter-book, "it was certainly a name like that." "Perhaps the name of a town. It sounds like a foreign name." "It certainly is not the name of any English town," retorted Ritson opening the book. "Here you are,--a short letter as you can see." The little doctor advanced to the desk, and ran his eye over the few blotted lines almost illegible on the tissue paper used for copying. "Dear Sir," he read aloud, "this is to inform you that my client Sir Simon Tedder has left all he possesses to his nephew Angus Herries, and that he has formally disinherited his daughter Maud Tedder of everything save one thousand a year.--Yours obediently, J. Ritson." "Well," said Ritson, when Browne closed the book. The doctor shook his head. "I cannot understand," he said, helplessly. "Nor I. What is to be done?" "There is nothing to be done save to wait. My advice to you, Mr. Ritson, is to be silent until the inquest is over. When Herries hears of his good fortune, he may give himself up." "You advise him to do that?" asked Ritson anxiously. "I certainly do. Good-day. We will meet at the inquest," and Browne, in a state of great perplexity left the office. He certainly was perplexed, as he had never before had such mystery to deal with. Browne was a straightforward man, and liked everything to be done openly. But the underhand dealings connected
- 19. with this death puzzled him sorely. He could not see his way to any solution, and went home to pass a restless night. Again and again did he ask himself whether Maud Tedder had anything to do with the crime, and again and again did he mutter to himself the strange word "Tarabacca." But to neither question did he obtain any answer. When he rose next morning to go to Desleigh he looked very weary and red-eyed. But Browne was not fated to be present at the inquest, for just as he was starting he received a message from a very wealthy patient saying that she was dangerously ill, and insisting that he should come to her at once. The patient was too rich to lose, and moreover was extremely irascible, so Browne went to her house, and as she proved really to be dangerously ill, he was forced to remain there for the greater part of the day. It was quite three o'clock when he found himself leaving the Desleigh station to walk along the straight, muddy road which led to the now celebrated village. The weather was much better, for although the sky was still grey and sunless, the mists had vanished. Browne, walking smartly towards his goal, cast a musing eye on the dismal flats and wide marshy lands which environed the village. He wondered how anyone could live in such a place, and wondered still more why Sir Simon had come to so dreary a locality to meet with his terrible death. As he drew near Desleigh, he met an outcoming throng of human beings, of motor cars and bicycles, and carts and horses coming towards the station. Apparently the inquest was over, and the reporters, and those morbid people attracted towards the inn by curiosity, were returning to the railway, that they might be taken to their various destinations. A close carriage, with the arms of Sir Simon on the panels, drove past at full speed, and Browne had no doubt that Maud and her chaperon, along with Captain Kyles, were within. He felt sorry that the blinds were down, as he wanted to see how Maud looked, and whether her expression was one of triumph. He guessed that it was, as he felt pretty certain that the verdict of the jury had ticketed Angus Herries as a criminal of the worst type.
- 20. Strange to say, he was so sure of what the verdict was, that he did not stop any of the hurrying people to ask questions. At the entrance to the village, he perceived the sloppy meadow wherein stood the gaily coloured caravan of Sweetlips Kind, and he smiled to himself to think of what would be said did anyone know that the accused man was snugly ensconced under the flooring of the vehicle. He then recognised how true it was what Kind had said regarding the safety of the hiding-place. No one, much less Trent, suspicious as he was, would credit Herries with being such a fool as to remain so near the scene of his supposed crime. And therein lay the man's safety. As Browne sent a second stealthy glance in the direction of that refuge for innocence, he stumbled against a woman who was coming swiftly along the road with her shawl up to her eyes. In her blindness, she had run up against him. "Where are you going?--oh it's you, Elspeth." It was indeed Elspeth. She had run out of the inn, with a shawl over her head, and a fringe of this was pressed to her tearful eyes. As the doctor spoke, she let the shawl drop, and he saw that her eyes were red with weeping, and that her small white face looked smaller and whiter than ever. "Yes, it's me," she said nervously, glancing at the many men and women who were hurrying past to the station. "I am going to see Rachel, who is still ill. She is alone," this with a meaning glance at the doctor, and apparently uttered for the benefit of the public. "Sweetlips is drinking at the inn." "What is the verdict?" asked Browne eagerly, although he knew very well what answer he would get. "The only one that could be given," said Elspeth, leaning against a barbed wire fence on the side of the road. "The jury say that Mr. Herries murdered Sir Simon. There is a reward offered."
- 21. "By Miss Tedder?" "Yes. She offers five hundred pounds." "Oh," said Browne, biting his nether lip. He saw in this increase of the reward a fresh proof of Maud's vindictive feelings towards her cousin. Apparently she was determined to leave him no chance of escape, and again Browne wondered, as he had wondered through the long night, if Maud Tedder was cognizant of the assassination of her father. "Inspector Trent has been congratulated on the evidence he has collected," sobbed Elspeth, "and also he has been blamed for letting Mr. Herries escape." "I don't wonder at it," said Browne, "the wonder is that he should have been congratulated at all. I never knew of such a bungling piece of work. Herries has not been caught yet?" "No," neither of them looked toward the caravan as they spoke, "but many people intend to stop here, and search the district. There are three detectives,--one of them knew Sweetlips." "Do these detectives believe Herries to be guilty?" "Oh yes, and they each intend to search for Mr. Herries." "What do they think of Kind's opinion?" "He told them that he thought Mr. Herries was guilty," said Elspeth, in a meaning tone. Browne quite understood her. Sweetlips was posing as an enemy to Herries, so as to save his life. "And Kind is also going to try for the reward," said Elspeth with a glimmering smile on her lips.
- 22. The doctor rubbed his hands and laughed. There was a suggestion of comedy in Sweetlips Kind's attitude, notwithstanding that he was playing with the issues of life and death. However, he had learned all that he wished to learn, since he now knew that the verdict had been given adverse to Herries, that the reward had been increased, and that the accused man himself was still safe in his hiding-place. The stream of people and vehicles grew thinner, and it would seem that very shortly the village would again be left to its desolation, now that the sensation was at an end. Elspeth supplied the doctor with more information. "Sir Simon's body is to be taken to Tarhaven to-night," she said, "and he is to be buried in three days. Miss Tedder agrees to give one hundred pounds to Mrs. Narby, for the damage done to the inn by the murder having been committed there." The doctor smiled inwardly, thinking of his interview with Ritson, and of the small chance Maud Tedder had of paying six hundred pounds. However, he did not wish to complicate matters further, by explaining the disappointment awaiting the presumed heiress, and merely answered the question in the same vein. "I should think that the crime had increased the popularity of the 'Marsh Inn,'" said he with some grimness. "Probably Mrs. Narby has never had such good customers since she took up the trade. It's an ill wind that blows no one any good, Elspeth." "She has sold out nearly all her liquor," the girl informed him. "And as there was scarcely anything to do, she allowed me to come away and visit Mrs. Kind. I wish you would come also, doctor. Rachel is still weak." "I'll come," replied Browne, mechanically, as he was keeping his eye on a tri-car--Lagonda make--which was slowly surging past them. The next minute he swore loudly, for, although there was ample room, the chauffeur insisted on crushing both himself and Elspeth
- 23. against the barbed wire fence, with painful results. "Here, confound you," cried the doctor irritably. "Look out where you are going." The occupant--the sole one besides the chauffeur--was a dark- complexioned woman in the prime of life, with a haughty face, and quite an aristocratic air. She was richly and fashionably dressed in some lustreless black material, which she wore with infinite grace. From her large, melting, dark eyes, and her olive complexion, together with the strange fact that she was smoking a cigarette in public, Browne thought that she was a Spaniard--a foreigner at least. But she appeared to understand English, for on hearing his none too gentle language, she turned her proud face in his direction, and taking the cigarette from between her full red lips, flung it fairly in his face. Then at a word from her--a foreign word--the car shot forward down the road, leaving a vile smell behind. In another minute, the Lagonda was speeding towards the station, so rapidly that Browne was unable to follow, much as he wanted to. However, he shook his fist, and picked up the stump of the cigarette, which had fallen at his feet. "I wish I had caught sight of the number of that beastly machine," snapped the irascible little man. "I'd bring that woman into court and have her fined. Good Lord, to think that this--this," he shook the cigarette stump in Elspeth's face,--"should be thrown at me. I wish I could,--hullo!" he stopped and examined the cigarette earnestly. "Tangerian! Tangerian, as I'm a sinner." "What do you mean?" asked Elspeth, astonished at his expression. "Mean!" bellowed the doctor, seeing that no one was within earshot, "why, I mean that this is a foreign cigarette, unknown in England." "Well?" "Well! Kind picked up a similarly marked cigarette stump in Herries' bedroom, and it was dropped there by the murderer. That woman is,--she is,--I say,--stop,--stop!" and Dr. Browne, brandishing his
- 24. umbrella, ran in a wild manner after the vanishing tri-car, shouting like a Red Indian on the warpath. CHAPTER XI LOVERS Naturally enough, Elspeth could not understand the hurried explanation of the doctor, and could not guess what an important clue the little man was following up. For a moment or two, she watched him puffing and panting down the dreary road, and then, with a sigh, she entered the spongy meadow wherein the caravan was standing. It looked bright and gay in its coat of yellow paint, although a portion of it was covered with tarpaulin to preserve from rain various brooms and brushes and mats and baskets, which dangled on all four sides. The day was still fine, but already the sky was darkening with the coming night, and the vehicle looked rather lonely in that wide bleak meadow. The horse which usually drew the caravan seemed to know this, for it kept as close as possible to its perambulating home. As Elspeth approached, she began to sing "Garryowen," since she was unable to whistle, so as to let Herries know that a friend was coming. Also when she climbed the steps, she gave the triple knock on the door, and waited with a beating heart for a sight of that dearly loved face. The door was cautiously opened, and she hastened to breathe her own name. Shortly she was within, and the door was again locked. Herries stepped across the gaping space of his cramped hiding-place, which was open. He usually kept it ready,
- 25. so as to slip in and cover himself with the boards, which he could do by touching the spring, as speedily as possible. One never knew what stranger might come to the caravan, either in the way of business, or out of curiosity to see the sick woman. Rachel herself, looking much better and with a flush on her formerly pale cheeks, was sitting up. She received Elspeth with a rather knowing laugh, and held out a large hand, covered, gipsy-fashion, with silver rings. "I am glad to see you, my dear," she said in a hearty tone. "I can talk now, as my throat is getting rapidly well, thanks to Dr. Herries." "I am not exactly a doctor," said the young man, smiling, "you can call me Mr. Herries, the surgeon." "Oh, you're a doctor right enough," said the proprietress of the caravan with a nod. "No one could have cured me so quickly as you have done. And Sweetlips will help you, doctor, as you have helped me. See if he doesn't. You'll walk a free man yet." "What is the verdict, Elspeth?" asked Herries, anxiously, "but I need not ask," he added, smiling bitterly. "Wilful murder, eh, and Angus Herries the murderer? I thought so." Elspeth nodded, and leaned against the wall of the vehicle, as her heart was too full to speak. Mrs. Kind strove to cheer the poor young fellow who was dreeing so hard a weird. "Come, come," she cried, in a hearty, good-humoured voice, "you're no worse off than you were before." "Ah, but I think he is," said Elspeth, clasping her thin hands. "There is now a reward of five hundred pounds offered." Herries started and flushed and bit his lip. "By whom?"
- 26. "Miss Tedder." "My cousin, by the girl who said that she loved me. After that, after that--" he flung himself down on the broken chair, and gnawed his fingers. "She never loved you," said Elspeth with a tremor in her voice, and a high colour in her cheeks. "How do you know?" "I have seen her. A doll, a soulless woman, a selfish girl. She could never love a man as a man ought to be loved. Do you think that I would have doubted you, that I----" here she became conscious that she was revealing her secret, and became violently red. Mrs. Kind touched Herries' arm. "I told you so," said she in an undertone. "What do you think now?" Herries sat mute with loosely clasped hands, and stared at the shrinking girl. Elspeth was clinging to the caravan wall, utterly confused, and although her face was turned away, she felt that the eyes of the man she loved were upon her, striving, as it were, to read her very soul. And why should he not, since that soul was clean and pure, and ready to give itself to this man, who was under the ban of the law. As the knowledge of this came to her, she lifted her head proudly and sent a glance in the direction of Herries, which showed plainly all she thought, all she was trying to conceal. "Good God," murmured Herries under his breath, and hid his face in his hands. "What have I done to deserve love like this?" In a flash he comprehended the nobility of the girl, servant though she was. He recalled how she had aided him to escape, how she had searched out this place of refuge, how her eyes never left his face, and how she seemed to hang on his words. Hitherto he had been
- 27. blind, but now in a hundred ways he knew that this poor, shabbily- clothed drudge loved him with surpassing strength. He raised his eyes to look at her delicate face, at her beautifully poised head, and into her wonderful eyes, pools of liquid light, irradiated by purity, and by a love half wifely, half maternal. She was Gowrie's daughter, according to Kind, but he could see nothing of Gowrie in her. In looks and nature and principles she was as far removed from that easy-going old sinner, as the earth was from the sun. All that was of her was beautiful and gracious. She needed but love and care and artistic surroundings to blossom out into a lovely, serene, radiant woman. He had been blind not to have seen this before. He had never dreamed that she loved him. But Mrs. Kind had opened his eyes to a certain extent, being woman enough to read Elspeth's secret. Now the single glance from the girl's soulful eyes revealed everything. She loved him, adored him, him the outcast, the accused murderer, the man on whom Fortune had turned a chilly back. "I never thought of this," said Herries, raising himself with some difficulty, for his tumult of thoughts made him weak. "Elspeth!" "No!" she flung out her hands, and her face flamed, "say nothing. I am--I am--your friend." "You are the sole woman who has looked at me in such a way," said Herries hoarsely, and regardless of the patient, he bent forward across the narrow space of the caravan to catch impulsively at Elspeth's cold little hands. "I never guessed, I never dreamed of such joy, but now, I know, I feel that you love me, as I love you." Mrs. Kind clapped her hands and laughed with glee. "It's as good as medicine," she cried, with the ready tears in her eyes, "I was right, I was right. I saw--I knew--oh, these men, these men, how little they understand us women." "But it's impossible," murmured Elspeth, snatching away her hands. "You cannot love, you--you know nothing about me, you----"
- 28. "I know your soul, I have seen it in your eyes. I know that it seems strange to you, it does to me," he drew his hand perplexedly across his forehead. "I never thought that Romeo and Juliet was true to nature; that sudden love, that passionate romance, seemed impossible, incredible. I could not believe that true love could be born of a single glance. But now I understand, and you have taught me to understand. It is the love of soul and soul that springs up thus rapidly, like Jonah's gourd, in a night. Jonah, ah, yes, for years I have compared myself with that unlucky prophet, for everything has gone awry with me, these many days. I looked forward to a miserable future similar to the miserable past. This accusation of murder seemed to be the climax of bad luck. But now I know that it is but one of those evils out of which comes infinite good. You love me: there is no more to be said." "Tit, tit," cried the onlooker from the bed, "there is heaps to be said, doctor. Tell her how you love her, how pretty she is, and----" "I am not pretty," interrupted Elspeth, vehemently, "no one can say that, Mrs. Kind." "You are not pretty," assented Herries gravely, for he guessed that an overstrained compliment would make her think him shallow, "but you have the beauty of the soul, which shines through your face. It is that loveliness, which has caused me to recognize and return your love. Maud Tedder attracted me by her beauty, by her external beauty, and so the love I had for her--if it could be called love--was not lasting. But you, dear,--you," he exclaimed ardently, "it is your soul I worship and adore." "You may be mistaken," stammered Elspeth, "it is so sudden----" "No more sudden than is your love for me." "Ah!" she smiled faintly, "but I am a woman and impulsive." "Does that mean you may be mistaken."
- 29. "No. A thousand times no. I love you with all my heart, and nothing can lessen or do away with that love." "Then you would not have me less fond, would you, dear? If I do not love you as you love me, then am I but a mere animal, unable to recognise the higher things of life. I did not recognise them until you looked at me,--until the veil fell from my eyes, and the warmth of your affection kindled a flame in my heart. But my soul has spoken to your soul, and if we had met and wooed for years, we could get no nearer the one to the other, than we are. Ours will be a marriage made in heaven,--the ideal heavenly marriage." "Marriage!" she murmured, confused, "marriage." "Yes, although I admit that I am a poor husband for you. I have no money,--I am under the ban of the law,--my life is full of misfortunes. Ah, dearest heart, think how deep must be my love, when I asked you to become my wife at this juncture." "Bless me," cried Mrs. Kind, not following this reasoning, "I should think it was the other way about. A chap as loves a maid shouldn't drag her down to poverty." "You are wrong,--you are wrong," said Elspeth, passing swiftly to the side of the bunk, "and Mr. Herries is right. Were we both rich, and careless of the deeper things of life, which poverty alone can teach, then we might marry without knowing each other's souls. But now, when we are in the depths, when Fate is doing her worst, when there is no earthly gain on either side, now is the time that we know our love is heavenly and lasting." "Then you love me indeed," said Herries coming up to her. She turned and put out her hands. All that was womanly in her, came to the surface in this hour, when both were at the nadir of their fortunes.
- 30. "I love you," said Elspeth simply, and there was no need to say more, as her eyes spoke far more eloquently than did her tongue. "I will be your wife, when and where you will." Herries was not an emotional man, but the tears came into his eyes as he bent forward to kiss those virgin lips. This sudden love, so new, so wonderful, so heart-inspiring, was so simple in its genesis that for the moment he could scarcely think that it was actual fact. "I ask nothing further of Fortune now," said the young man, and his strong voice quavered. "I have gained the love of an angel." "Ah!" said Mrs. Kind shifting uneasily on her pillow, "that's what all men say before marriage, but afterwards----" "There will be no afterwards," cried Herries impetuously. "The beautiful present will be always with us. "Beautiful present, doctor, and you being hunted down." "I am not caught yet," said Herries gaily. "For the rest, I can afford to wait,--with Elspeth." "But if you are captured?" she asked, her head resting unresistingly on his breast. "I shall not be captured," said Herries forcibly, "though it may be that I shall give myself up." "Mr. Herries----" "Angus!" "Well then, Angus, you would not give yourself up?" The young man sat down again on the broken chair, and drew the slight form of his beloved to his knee.
- 31. "Dear," he said gravely, "I have thought over matters in my solitude, and I see how wrong I have been in not facing the worst. This flight of mine almost admits guilt. If I am innocent, people ask themselves, why should I fly?" "Because appearances were against you," burst out Elspeth. "Because you were in the hands of Inspector Trent, who would not give you a fair trial. Innocent men have been hanged before, for crimes which they did not commit, and if you give yourself up to these policemen who are misled by false evidence, you may be hanged." "No, dear, I will not be hanged. The God who has given me a pure woman's love in my hour of deep distress will not forsake me in my need. Your love, given unasked, marks the turn of my fortunes; so low as I have sunk, even so high will I rise, and you with me. And come what may, your heart can never prove false to me." "Never! Never." "My," said Mrs. Kind with a sigh, "don't he talk lovely. Sweetlips never pattered in this way to me. It's as good as a play, and play it is," she added, raising herself anxiously, "don't forget that you have to save your life, before you can marry." "We can be married quietly," said Elspeth. "It ain't so easy to get tied up," retorted Mrs. Kind, wisely. "That doctor now,--his name's in all the papers by this time, and if he wanted a licence, or went to put up the banns, he'd be nabbed as soon as looked at." "Oh, Angus." Elspeth's eyes filled with tears. He drew her tighter to his breast.
- 32. "Leave it to me, darling. What Mrs. Kind says is perfectly true, but there is a way out of the difficulty. Let me consult Browne and Sweetlips, and----" "Oh," said Elspeth, starting, "Dr. Browne is here. I left him running after a motor car." "What for?" Elspeth explained the episode of the insult, and what the little doctor had said about the cigarette stump. Herries, knowing the theory of Kind, became quite excited, as he guessed that if this clue was followed up it might lead to serious developments, likely to secure his safety. "But I don't see what a woman can have to do with the murder," he said perplexed. "Leave it to Sweetlips," said Mrs. Kind, seriously. "He's the chap to find a needle in a haystack." "Yes, but a woman of fashion----" "Ho," snorted Rachel, rubbing her nose, "did you ever know a case where there wasn't a woman?" She glanced merrily at Elspeth. "There's two in this affair." "Three," said Elspeth quickly, "you forget Miss Tedder. By offering this reward, Angus," she blushed as she shyly pronounced the name, "I can see that she wants to hang you. Well then, I will put my wits against hers and save her cousin." "Save your husband that is to be," whispered Herries, fondly. Elspeth took hold of the lapels of his poor jacket----
- 33. "Do you really mean it: do you really mean it?" she asked, earnestly. "Think of what I am, as Sweetlips told you,--the daughter of Michael Gowrie, who was left in pawn by him, to be a drudge at the 'Marsh Inn.'" "You are a lady,--the lady of my love, and the sweetest woman in the wide world." "Well," said Rachel, staring at Elspeth, while this was being whispered into her ears, "if she don't look reglar, slap up, pretty!" It was true. A lovely pink blush was over-spreading the pale face of the girl, a smile of ecstasy parted her lips to show perfectly white teeth, and the whole worn weary body seemed to be suddenly rejuvenated by the power of the loving word. It was like the sun on a gloomy day emerging from behind a cloud,--a promise of that hidden loveliness which would reveal itself when she became the wife of the man she had dared so much to save. Mrs. Kind beckoned to the lovers who wooed so boldly in her presence and smiled. "Y' don't know that I'm a gipsy of sorts," she said, taking Herries' hand. "Let me read the lines, doctor. I've read Elspeth's before, ain't I, ducky? Lor, I read misery and sorrow, and folks as wished her harm,--all of 'em to skip when the man came." "The man?" queried Angus, submitting his palm to the sibyl. "You're the man. I knew it the moment I saw her blushing like a true maid. Aye, here's evil days behind you," she traced the lines with a lean brown finger, "evil folk too, and hardship by land and sea. See the crosses, deary, in the early part of life,--you've had 'em, oh my gentleman, what a time you've had!" "Jonah's luck," said Herries with a sigh, and to comfort him Elspeth raised his disengaged hand to her lips.
- 34. "Aye! But luck of that sort is too bad to last. Hard rain don't last long, my pretty ones. Bad luck to Elspeth, and bad luck to you, my gentleman. Deary," she caught Elspeth's hand, and examined it turn and turn about with Herries' palm, "why, here's the coupling, the cross of marriage." "Do you call it a cross?" asked Herries laughingly. "It's the sign I speak of," said Mrs. Kind, simply. "Here, in your hand and her's, on the verge of the criss-cross lines, and all plain sailing before!" she dropped their hands and clapped her own. "Dearie both, the worst is over. You'll win free, my gentleman, and have money galore, and marry the pretty one who held to you in tribulation, as she will in wealth. Good health, good luck, and good hearts, and may the dear Lord have you both in His keeping." "Amen to that," said Herries solemnly, "but how can you tell that I am to have good fortune?" "Two 'no's' make a 'yes,' my gentleman. Your bad fortune and hers make one good one past believing, when you marry. Duvel!" Mrs. Kind became more gipsy-like than ever, as she plied the trade peculiar to the gentle Romany. "It's a true dukkeripen, brother," said she, and sank back exhausted with the effort. "Now, you must not talk more," said Herries, covering her up. "As your doctor, I should not have allowed you to chatter, when your throat is still weak. Elspeth," he turned to the girl, when Mrs. Kind was quiet, "go to the inn, and tell Sweetlips to come to me, along with Browne, if he is there. I want to hear everything up-to-date and arrange my plans." "Angus," she whispered, imploringly, "you will not give yourself up?" "Not unless Browne and Sweetlips advise. I place myself in their hands. Good-bye, dear."
- 35. "Good-bye!" Elspeth was just receiving his kiss, when a thundering knock came rattling at the door. The sick woman raised herself, much startled and the lovers sprang apart. "Garryowen" had not been whistled or sang, and the triple signal had not been given. This was some stranger,--perhaps some enemy. Gathering her wits together, Elspeth pointed mutely to the still gaping hiding-place, and Herries lay down without a single word. In a twinkling, she had touched the spring and the flooring hid him from sight. The knock came again. CHAPTER XII THE STRANGE WORD As soon as the noise of the second knock died away sufficiently to permit speech, Elspeth raised her voice crossly, with a glance round to see that nothing telltale was about. "All right! All right," she said in angry tones, and opening the door. "Who is there? What do you want? Mrs. Kind is ill; don't disturb her." "It's only me," said Pope Narby, who was standing, long and lean and chilly, on the steps. "I've come for you, Elspeth, as mother wants you, and she says she'll have the hair out of your head if you don't come up sharply. And I want writing-paper for myself. There's none at home, or in the shop, so I thought I'd get it here."
- 36. "You might have knocked a little more gently," said Elspeth, relieved to see that Pope had no suspicions. "Poor Mrs. Kind is so ill." "You startled me rarely, lad," said the sick woman, taking her cue. "And why do you want Elspeth? I can't be left by myself." "Your husband's at home," explained Pope. "That he isn't," said Mrs. Kind grimly. "I mean he's at my home, drinking, and talking about the inquest." "Oh! he is," cried the sick woman, with pretended wrath, "then just you tell him that I'm all alone, and that if he doesn't come back, I'll clip him over the head." "All right. Come along, Elspeth. Oh wait--the paper?" Mrs. Kind pointed to a shelf over her head. "The box is up there, my dearie; the best writing-paper and dirt cheap." Elspeth reached down the box, and spread out the contents, but Mrs. Kind, delighted to be in her old element, did the bargaining herself. Not that it was much pleasure, as Pope was a fool over money, and gave her what she asked. Of course Mrs. Kind was glad enough to despoil the fool of his cash, but she would have preferred a hard bargainer. However, that pleasure was denied her, and she handed over the paper and took the money. Meantime Elspeth, with her shawl over her head, waited impatiently for Pope, thinking meanwhile of her poor hunted lover, who was being stifled under her feet. She could have knelt and kissed the flooring above his head. "Come along--come along," she said impatiently. Pope shambled ungraciously out of the caravan, while she closed the door after them both.
- 37. "You won't be in such a hurry to get home when you know the tantrum mother's in," he grinned. Elspeth did not vouchsafe a reply, but walked swiftly across the splashy meadow, and out on to the muddy road. She was determined in her own heart to bear no further insults from Mrs. Narby. The woman who was engaged to marry Angus Herries must not submit again to outrage. And the knowledge that she had won this wonderful love made her feel brave. She was no longer the ill- used drudge, but a self-contained, resolute woman, who could fight the whole world for the sake of her man; aye, fight the Universe itself. "I say," babbled Pope, as he shambled homeward beside her, "I wish I could get this five hundred pounds, Elspeth." "Blood money never did anyone good, Pope." "Yes, but this man is guilty." "No!" she stopped and pressed her hands against her loudly beating heart, "that, I'll never believe." "But the verdict of the jury." "It is a mistaken one. And his own cousin, who should defend him, is the one to offer that iniquitous reward." "I say," Pope looked at her curiously through the gathering gloom, "you do talk first-rate at times, Elspeth." "I have been to a good school," she answered shortly. "You might help me with my poetry," suggested the poet. "Well, I will, if you'll promise to give up trying to get this reward."
- 38. "No, I shan't," snarled the uncouth creature. "If I can get that money I'll be able to publish my poetry. You don't know how my genius longs to spread its wings." "I know that your genius, as you call it, is perfectly capable of hanging an innocent man to get blood-money," she flamed out. "Everyone has to look after himself," returned Pope sulkily, "and if this Mr. Herries is not guilty, who is?" "That man who escaped in Sir Simon's fur coat." "Mother's got the coat, and intends to keep it from the police if she can," observed Pope complacently. "Dr. Browne just asked to see it before I came to fetch you." "Is Dr. Browne at the inn?" "Yes. He came in a quarter of an hour ago, all puffing and blowing and covered with mud. Now he's talking to Sweetlips Kind, who wants to earn the reward. But he shan't, he shan't," cried Pope, clenching his lean, hard fist, "I'll get it. I'm going out to-morrow with some bread and cheese in my pocket, and will not come back until I find the man who killed Sir Simon." "Then find the man in the fur coat." "No, it's that Mr. Herries, and I'll ask Armour if he saw him. You know Armour's ill in bed, Elspeth. Inspector Trent went to see him before he left for Tarhaven. Armour sticks to his story of being carried away by men; they were sailors." "Sailors," echoed Elspeth, stopping short in front of the inn, "how does Armour know that?" "He saw, just for one moment before they muffled his head, that one had on a pea-jacket with brass buttons. I heard Inspector Trent
- 39. say to Sweetlips Kind, that he expected they were sailors from Pierside, and that he is going over there to-morrow." "I don't see what sailors have to do with the matter," said Elspeth half to herself, and now standing directly before the door. She must have raised her voice unconsciously, for Mrs. Narby heard her words, and flung open the door, with a volley of bad language. "Come in, come in," yelped the gross landlady. "'Ow do y' do, me fine Duchess, stravaging abaut win there's work t' do. I'll pull th' bloomin' 'air out of yer 'orrid 'ead." She made as to do it, but Elspeth slipped under her extended arm, and flew into the tap-room. "Stop," she said in a commanding voice, which drew every eye to her, as the infuriated Mrs. Narby flung forward to enjoy her favourite pastime. "If you lay a finger on me, I'll give you in charge to the policeman who is watching the dead body upstairs." The landlady was so amazed at the turning of the worm, that she fell back against the wall and gasped. Dr. Browne, who was talking in undertones to Kind in a corner, looked approvingly at the girl, who was thus defying her bully. Narby turned and stared in surprise, as he was handing a pewter of beer to a yokel, and every man in the tap-room--and it was quite full--waited with bated breath to see what the redoubtable landlady would do. She gasped like a cod-fish and opened her mouth to speak twice and thrice, only to be quelled by the calm gaze of the girl she had tortured for so long. "I had your permission," went on Elspeth, oblivious of her startled audience, "to visit Mrs. Kind, who is seriously ill, and you did not mention any time for me to return. I have been your slave and your drudge long enough, and to-morrow I intend to leave, if you drive me to it, I'll leave to-night."
- 40. "You--you--slut," shouted Mrs. Narby, almost too furious to speak. "Stop calling me names. Mr. Narby, while I remain here, I appeal to you for protection." "She doesn't mean it," said the landlord uneasily. He did not like this sudden revolt, and these outspoken speeches, which would damage the none-too-good reputation of the inn. "Ho! Don't she," screamed Mrs. Narby, and darting forward, gave Elspeth a swinging slap on the cheek, "an' she means thet too, y' hussy. Git back to yer kennel, y'----" What she would have said, what she would have done, it is impossible to say, as she had quite lost her head; but while Elspeth, sick with pain and shame, leaned against the wall, Sweetlips Kind caught the virago's arm, and swung her round. She scratched his face with a volley of bad language, and Narby saw that it was time to interfere. "'Liza 'Liza! stop," he said in a low, firm voice. "Lemme go, lemme git at thet--thet----" rage choked her. "Elspeth will come this night with me to the caravan, said Kind, and the girl started, half with joy, half with fear. She would have liked to join the vagrant life of the Kinds, which would be better than the dog's existence she was leading at the inn; but then Herries was there, and Kind did not know that now she was engaged to Herries. "No, no, it's very good of you, but----" "She sha'n't go," shouted Mrs. Narby, only restrained by her husband's strong arm from falling bodily on Elspeth. "She's mine. Her father lef' her in my charge. She daren't go."
- 41. "Daren't," echoed the girl, raising her head dauntlessly. "If that is what you say, Mrs. Narby, I go now. My father left me here to pay off by my work, a miserable week's lodging. I have slaved for an entire year, and now I am free to leave." She walked to the door. "Stop her! Stop her!" cried the landlady, thinking--and very rightly-- that never again would she get so obedient and willing a slave. "No one dare stop me," said Elspeth, turning at the door, "I leave your service at this moment." "Where are you going on this wet night?" asked Narby gruffly. "That is my business. And when next you get a servant, I advise you to stop your wife from ill-treating her as she has ill-treated me." "That's hactionable," cried the landlady savagely. "Make it so, and take me into court. My evidence would do you no good, Mrs. Narby." The virago saw that she had gone too far, and that the sympathies of the room were with the frail girl, who thus faced her so boldly. She fell back on whimpering. "And arter wot I've done fur 'er. Whoy, 'er mother couldn't 'ave----" She got no further. With a disdainful look, Elspeth pushed open the door and went out into the rain, which was now falling fast. Mrs. Narby would have followed, but her husband held her back. "You've done quite enough mischief with your tongue and fist," he said in her ear. "Get into the kitchen, or else I'll choke the life out of you, you she-demon." Mrs. Narby stared at him, and then went off into a fit of crying and kicking, and grovelling on the floor. Narby lost no time in arguing the point, but picked up the struggling, squealing woman, and half
- 42. carried, half dragged her into the back parts of the inn. And all this time Pope stared open-mouthed, as much at the daring of Elspeth as at the downfall of his hitherto redoubtable mother. And his feelings were shared by the company in the tap-room, who had long looked on Mrs. Narby as a model virago, who ought to be brought to her bearings. "I'd best see after that girl," said Sweetlips in a low voice to the doctor. "She can't be left to wander about these marshes all night." "What can you do for her?" questioned Browne, following the Cheap- jack to the door. "She can come with me in the caravan to Colchester. I'm starting for that place to-morrow." "What, will you give up----?" "Hush. Don't speak so loud. Of course I'm still on the job; but I want to place a certain person in safety before moving further in the matter." "I think it would be best for him to give himself up, and stand his trial," said Browne quickly, "especially as he has inherited this huge fortune." "He hasn't got it yet," replied Sweetlips, grimly, "nor will he, until he clears his character and hangs the assassin of his uncle. Come along," they were hurrying up the village street, through the drizzling rain, in the direction of the caravan, "we'll lose that girl." "She'll go straight to your wife." "I daresay she--no, there she is." Kind pointed to a slim, girlish figure, which was gliding slowly before them. "I say, Elspeth, Elspeth!"
- 43. The figure stopped and when the two came up, she paused under a villainously bad oil lamp, which cast but a feeble gleam, so dusky was the atmosphere with the rain and swiftly coming night. "I knew you would come," she panted, not having yet got over her encounter with Mrs. Narby, "and so I went towards the caravan." "But ain't y' going there, my girl?" questioned Kind, startled. "No. I can't stop in the caravan, thank you all the same, Sweetlips, you forget that Mr. Herries is there." "What difference does that make? My missus can play society." Elspeth drooped her head under the shawl. "I am engaged to Mr. Herries." "What?" shouted Browne, catching her by the arm. "Speak lower," urged Kind, glancing uneasily around, "you never know who may be eavesdropping. "But it's impossible," said the little doctor, sinking his voice. "You have only known him for a day or so." "All the same, he loves me, and I love him." "Don't be foolish, girl. How can he," Brown was careful not to mention Herries' name, "how can he support you, when he hasn't got a penny? It's sheer madness." "You forget the fortune," whispered Sweetlips in the doctor's ear. "You forget your own words. He has to earn that yet." "Then allow Elspeth to help him to earn it. She's a sharp girl, and already has done him a service. Let the engagement stand until the
- 44. chap gets out of this hobble. Then you can talk." "All right," grumbled the doctor, "but it's ridiculous." Meantime Elspeth, feeling that it was impossible to explain her changed circumstances to the pair, had turned on her heel, and was walking in the opposite direction. "Where are you going?" asked Kind, gaining on her rapidly with his long stride. "To Armour, the policeman's," she answered in a fatigued tone. "His wife is my good friend, and will take me in." "Hum," murmured the Cheap-jack, "perhaps that will be best--for the present at all events. And I want to see Armour myself. Come along, doctor. There's work to be done." Browne followed at once, as he also was anxious to see the kidnapped policeman, and learn from his own lips exactly what had taken place. But he was not pleased at this fresh entanglement of Herries, since, as he thought, the girl would only hamper a man already in difficulties. However, he guessed that what Elspeth had said was true enough, and that she really was engaged. It is creditable to the doctor's understanding that he comprehended how this change in the girl's circumstances had enabled her to face the "Marsh Inn" bully. "Extraordinary creatures, women," thought this philosopher. Shortly Elspeth came to a small red-brick cottage standing some little distance from the village street and within a tidy garden, well cultivated. A light burned in the left-hand window, which showed that Armour and his wife were still sitting up. Certainly it was yet early, but Browne had thought that the policeman would have been in bed. However, the whispered information of Elspeth conveyed to his ear that the light shone through the sitting-room window.