“I know what you would say, Mr. Carter, but it would have no weight with me,” she hurriedly interposed. “I am absolutely sure that he is the victim of knavery of some kind.” “But why are you so sure of it? Have you any definite reasons?” “Yes, many.” “Tell me,” said Nick, “what are your reasons, and the circumstances in connection with his disappearance.” Miss Farley drew up in her chair. A wave of red appeared in her cheeks and dispelled her paleness. She met Nick’s grave scrutiny with outward composure, however, and replied with characteristic frankness: “I must begin, Mr. Carter, with telling you of my relations with Mr. Maybrick. He has been very kind to me since my father died a year ago, leaving me very wealthy, but deplorably alone in the world. Mr. Maybrick called often during my father’s illness, and his visits have been even more frequent since his death. They have given rise to rumors, Mr. Carter, that Mr. Maybrick and I are in love, and likely to be married.” “Is there any truth in them?” Nick inquired. “Yes.” “Are you engaged to Mr. Maybrick?” “I am, Mr. Carter, though the engagement has not been announced,” said Harriet. “I have been in mourning for a year, you know, discarding it only a week ago.” “I understand,” said Nick. “I have been very careful during my period of mourning that nothing should be said about my engagement, and I know that Mr. Maybrick has not disclosed it by so much as a hint. He is absolutely reliable.” “No doubt.” “The truth is suspected, nevertheless, and bitterly resented.” “Resented by whom?” “By a woman with whom Mr. Maybrick was on terms of friendly intimacy before falling in love with me,” said Miss Farley, coloring again. “He assures me that their friendship was entirely proper, which I fully believe, but the woman evidently intends to take advantage of it, and make trouble for him. She has threatened him with a lawsuit, to say nothing of other vengeful proceedings, unless he ends his relations with me and consents to marry her.” “Who informed you of her feelings and intentions?” Nick inquired. “Mr. Maybrick.” “How does he regard her threats?” “He has ignored them, Mr. Carter, and very properly, too,” said Miss Farley. “He knows that she has been stealthily watching him, nevertheless, spying by night near the rectory, though with what design he cannot conjecture.” “How long has this been going on?” “For more than a week, evidently, culminating in what occurred last night.” “What was that?” “Would to Heaven I could tell you,” Miss Farley fervently exclaimed. “Don’t ask me, Mr. Carter. That is what I want you to find out--and what has become of him.” “You mean---- Stop a moment!” Nick abruptly digressed. “Who is this jealous woman, who evidently feels that she has been wronged by Mr. Maybrick?” “Her name is Kate Crandall.” “A resident in your town?” “Yes.” “What do you know about her? Is she young and attractive, of good character and habits, or----”