a--like a----" She hesitated for a word, and Cleggett, tactlessly
enough, with some vague recollection of a classical tale in his
mind, suggested:

"Like a corpse."

Lady Agatha turned pale. She gazed at Cleggett with
terror-stricken eyes, her beautiful face became almost haggard in
an instant; he thought she was about to faint again, but she did
not. As he looked upon the change his words had wrought, filled
with wonder and compunction, Cleggett suddenly divined that her
occasional flashes of gayety had been, all along, merely the
forced vivacity of a brave and clever woman who was making a
gallant fight against total collapse.

"Mr. Cleggett," she said, in a voice that was scarcely louder
than a whisper, "I am going to confide everything to you--the
whole truth. I will spare myself nothing; I will throw myself
upon your mercy.

"I firmly believe, Mr. Cleggett--I am practically certain--that
the box there, upon which Elmer is sitting, contains the body of
Reginald Maltravers, natural son of the tenth Earl of Claiborne,
and the cousin of my late husband, Sir Archibald Fairhaven."


CHAPTER VI

LADY AGATHA'S STORY