inquired Mr. Sutherland of the constable.

"Just as they are now; we have moved nothing. The shades were both
down--one of them over an open window."

"Well, we may find this encounter of yours with this unknown man a
matter of vital importance, Mr. Crane."

"I wish I had seen his face."

"What do you think the object was you saw glittering in his hand?"

"I should not like to say; I saw it but an instant."

"Could it have been a knife or an old-fashioned dagger?"

"It might have been."

"Alas! poor Agatha! That she, who so despised money, should fall a
victim to man's cupidity! Unhappy life, unhappy death! Fenton, I
shall always mourn for Agatha Webb."

"Yet she seems to have found peace at last," observed the
minister. "I have never seen her look so contented." And leading
Mr. Sutherland aside, he whispered: "What is this you say about
money? Had she, in spite of appearances, any considerable amount?
I ask, because in spite of her humble home and simple manner of
living, she always put more on the plate than any of her
neighbours. Besides which, I have from time to time during my
pastorate received anonymously certain contributions, which, as