'I am awfully sorry your visit should have ended like this, Luscombe,' said Sir Thomas three hours later; 'but you must come down again when you can get a day or two off. Don't wait for a formal invitation; we shall always be glad to see you.' 'Thank you, I'll take you at your word, Sir Thomas; meanwhile you'll keep me posted up with the news, won't you?' 'You mean about---- Yes, I'll let you know what happens. Where are you going, Lorna?' 'I'm going with Major Luscombe to the station, if he'll let me,' was her reply. 'You've something to tell me, Lorna,' I said when we had started. She shook her head. 'You are sure? Has Springfield's death made no difference?' 'No,' she replied, then she hesitated, and repeated the word. 'Jack'll ask you again, Lorna. Of course he's not told me; but he will. He is one who never gives up. Never.' 'It's no use,' she said wearily. 'It's impossible, everything's impossible.' 'Nothing's impossible to a chap like Jack. You don't mean to say that Springfield----' 'Don't,' she pleaded. 'You don't know; he--he doesn't know; if he did----,' and then she lapsed into silence. 'I'm coming down again soon,' I said as I entered the train. 'I promised your father I would.' 'Do, do,' and she held my hand almost feverishly. CHAPTER XLI THE NEW HOPE Nothing more than was absolutely necessary appeared in the newspapers about Springfield's death. In a letter which he wrote before taking his life he explained his action in a few characteristic words. 'Life's not worth living, that's why I'm going to die. I do not wish any question asked of any one why I intend to solve the "great secret," very suddenly. I'm tired of the whole show. That's enough explanation for any one. I am quite sane, and I hope no fool set of jurymen will bring in a verdict about my taking my life while in an unsound mind. I am reaping as I've sown, and I dare say if I had been a pattern young man things might have ended differently. But there it is. The game, as far as I am concerned, is not worth the candle. Besides, the game's played out. I am grateful to those of my friends who have been kind to me. The personal letters I am writing must be regarded as private and confidential. By that I mean they must not be read to satisfy the vulgar curiosity of the gaping crowd, and no questions must be asked of their recipients. Their contents are meant only for those to whom they are addressed.' According to the newspaper reports, no awkward questions were asked of Sir Thomas Bolivick, or any members of the party with whom he had dined the night before he died, and the twelve jurymen who brought in a verdict of suicide said nothing about an 'unsound mind.' Mention was made, however, of a sealed letter, placed by the side of the one I have copied. This letter bore no address, and nothing was written on the envelope but the words: 'This package must _not_ be opened within a week of my burial.'