The Dickinson press., 1892-06-11

DucKetlull,-noC by q long way. One
OF the things we hev got to larn,
concerns IsraePs prcsentiments, and"
he added emphatically,, "I'm goin to
larn it"
ave must get back to the house.
The police must be sent for.
81 don't see what harm they can
do, and it's the res'lar thing, so they
ought to be called in," he said, rising
from the trunk on which he had been
holding this discussion; II am going
for Israel. So long!'
| hesitated to separate from the
Judge.
"You must promise me, Brace, not
to commit violence on Van Hoeck."
"lf you mean by violence taking his
life away. l will give you my word not
to be violent with him. Theirs my
hand on it."
On this understanding, we shook
hands and parted. He plunged again
into the wood; l returned to the
Abbey. That was between seven and
eight O'Clock.
At two o'clock, went once more
into the wood. Lola was wanted.
The police officer from southanp-
ton, on hearing my story, declared at
once that the theft had been commit
ted by q servant, md that Lola must
be found at once, to know ii she had
seen the thief as he escaped by the
window, and could identity him.
TO find Lola, however was not my
sole object.
The protracted absence OF Brace
and Van Hoeck excited my misgivings,
and, despite the Judges promise, |
already reproached myself with hav-
ing abandoned my blind partner.
The Judges notions OF justice were
peculiar, and based upon the rough
usage ofCalifornian miners in the days
when they made and executed their
own laws. l believed him capable of
applying torture, only stopping short
OF actual murder, to wrlns from
Van Hoecls the secret which he be-
lieved him to hold with respect to the
lost diamond.
l retraccd my steps to the spot
where l had helped to conceal Van
Hoeck. The broken brake marked
q distinct trail, and in pit less than
a hundred yards from that point, the
underground was beaten down, as if a
struggle had taken place.
Was it not possible that Brace had
gone father than he intended, and
killed Van Hoeck? Had he concealed
the body, and fled with his daughter
to escape the consequence OF his act?
Asking myself these questions, fol-
lowed q track from the pit that
brought me into tho bride way.
Looking for further traces of u pass
age through the brake, l made my way
down toward the road.
Again l perceived broken brake,
and, following the line, threaded my
way between the trees upon the slope
OF the hill until emerged from the
wood upon the high bank that edged
the Abbey road at that part. 1t was
as nearly as possible the point where
Van Hoeck had stopped me in the
morning, upon hearing Brace in our
rear. Looking up the road, saw the
finger-post at the crossroads; looking
down, lsaw that which took my breath
away with amazement,-B was
trudging along the road toward the
Abbey, with Van IIoeck holding his
arm on one side, and Lola his hand
on the other,-an incomprehensible
picture OF unity, friendly assistance,
and reliance.
1t was truethat, without assistance,
Van Hoeck could not have found his
way along the road, and very possible
that, without the restraint of her
fathers hand, Lola would not
have walked by his side; but all doubt
as to the existence OF a friendly under
standing between the two men was
dispelled from my mind by what fol-
lowed. Arrived opposite the bride
path leading up into the wood, they
stopped, and consultation ensued be-
tween the two men: l could not hear
their voices at that distance, but
| saw by their gesticulations
that they were discussing some
point; it ended by Brace going to the
side OF the road, and craning his neck
to see if any one were in sight. l
crouched down beside the thicket,
which partly concealed me.
When l cautiously raised my head
and looked again, Brace, still stand
ing opposite the bride way, was draw
ing his arm out OF the sandy bank
that there skirted the road.
l ducked my head, as once more he
peered to the right and left. They
were gone, all three, when looked
again.
When thought it safe to venture,
| went to the spot where Brace had
stood. There was q rabbit hole in the
sandy cutting, partly hidden by the
training growth from the overhanging
edge. l took off my coat, turned
back my sleeve, thrust in my arm,
and drew out-the leather case in
which the diamond had been taken
from my wrist. 1t was empty.
again thrust my arm in and ex-
plored the hole, thinkine-though it
was little lihely-that the diamond
had slipped out OF the case, or been
put in separately. 1t was kind OF
cul-de-sac,-the earth had fallen i'll
from above, and blocked the passage
at less than the length OF my arm
from the entrance; but did not give
up the search until was absolutely
certain tnlU lnc NfcaC l1eSpef was
not there. 1t was not probable they
would place the diamond in such an
open place; the leather case was
different. 1t was unsafe to keep
that, but it was OF little con-
sequence where they abandoned But
why had they taken the diamond from
the case? and what had they done with
it?
A clue to this mystery also, dis
covered before long.
When l got back to the Abbey,
Brace, Van Hoeck and Lola were in
the library with the police officer, Si.
Edmund, Mr.. Wray,-his lawyer
and a couple of friends, justices OF the
peace, who bad been brought there by
the rumors which were already widely
spread.
Lola was still under examination.
She was stubbornly silent. 1t was with
.nu greatest ulnlcuiJy that any re-
sponse to the questions put could be
drawn from her. But she admitted see.
ing the man drop from iel; and,
acl,e1 II II woc ono of ,t 4, 10