“I hope you will not compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life. ‘It is pretty. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. And I don’t. This is a case either of suicide or murder. ” “Think not,” that young man remarked laconically. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard. "Ah!" exclaimed Jack, starting to his feet.
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