The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-09-16
}A WOMAN'S ] { ENCHANTMENT} } ( By William Le Queux ,
 ! Copyright, 1909, by 2 William Le Queux }
(Continued.)

the IantaStIcally cut old yeWS ana the high box hedges. with the beautiful rosary beyond. Though autumn. the day was warm and sunny and the peace of it all impressed me after the storm and stress of the breathless days through which I had just passed.
 Mrs. Maynard was questioning me upon my Journey east when suddenly she remarked:
 1T really don't know what has come to Myra. She looks so pale and hag- gard. Only the other day I was re- marking to Elfrida that I feared she was going into a rapid decline. She used to be such bright, active. ath- letic girl.''
 knew the truth. alas! But I merely re- marked that the air of Yorkshire might not suit her.
 But it's her native air." she pro- tested. She's Yorkshore born and bred" s5
 Therefore I withdrew my theory rather ignominiously.
 Presently my divinity returned dress ed in a short dark blue skirt and blouse of cream silk. while on her head a dark blue beret was saucily set. She looked the picture of feminine daintiness.
 Later on she and I strolled forth to- gether into the old world garden. wan dering up and down the well-kept graveled walks. and past the gray, lichen-covered sundia1 at the farther end of the lawn.
 | fa alone. at the farther end of the gar den. and out of the observation of any one in the house. suddenly turned to her and said. rather abruptly fear:
 Do you recollect our confidential chat in London, Miss Maynard? We'll, I have come here to-day regarding 1t -or rather concerning the position of Garshore.''
 Please don't mention that mans name again. Mir Ralston." she pro- tested. in an instant growing serious.
 ''But I am working strenuously in order to, give you your freedom" said, looking into her beautiful eyes and trying to read the great mystery there concealed.
 That, fear you can never obtain for me- she answered in a low voice of sorrow.
 Radcliffe Gardens on the night of the tragedy" I said slowly. And Granny Cough was there also. Why was he there?', 4.
 We had halted beneath a big cedar, ,i and were out of sight from the house.
 "He is my friend. MT. RaIston. as he is yours. but-but we went there armed" she faltered. ''armed in order to commit murder.''
 gro kill that woman?" gasped.
 "No; to kill Garshore-or rather, I suppose. to defend himself from at tack"
 "was Garshore present?'
 "No."
 Are you quite certain of that-cer- tain that he was not the assassin?' demanded. amazed at this reply.
 "He was not present. T. tell you; therefore. he could not have killed her.
 twho actually did kill her?'' TT don't know! she faltered. "The charge is laid against MT. Cough"
 By whom?''
 By Garshore-and by me-" e '"Then Coughs guilt is alleged by Garshore!'' cried quickly; (which points most strongly to the fact that he himself is guilty!'' added.
 How could he be guilty if he was not present?'' she queried.
 "But surely Granny and yourself are both innocent. no matter what weres Coughs motives in visiting the house on that evening. Therefore. there re- mains Garshore.''
 Who was in another part of Lon don-perhaps very fortunately for him self-with that woman Ponescu."
 ."Then it was not the fair Rouman- ian who died!'' cried. excited at hav ing established at least one fact.
 t'No. It was the maid, Marie Lebas."
 sThen why was she dDessed in a gown of her mistress'?'' demanded.
 .I cannot tell. That's mystery. I, of course, believed her. to be Lydia Pcpescu until a moment before the tragic affair."
 "But what caused you to go to that woman?" demanded. in the same breath apologizing for my abrupt cross-examinati
 "I was induced to go therein Sec- ret" she answered. lowering her gaze.
 Induced? By whom?"
 She was silent for a moment.
 By MT. Garshore.'' she admitted in hoarse whisper.
 "why?"
 But though repeated my question: many times. she refused to respond. Her eyes were downcast. her ceunten- ance white as death.
 I loved her with my whole heart. and truly she had all my sympathy. I saw her sweet-faced. pale, and broken. as she stood alone with me. the victim of vile. dastardly plot. which had had for it's object the death of the un- fortunate Marie Lebas. , ssis
 I would at that moment have fallen upon my knees and raised her soft white hand to my lips.
 I yearned to declare my love, but. alas! I dare not.
 She somehow seemed so indistinct LaI t,; hoh ind a