"Because I wish to prove the innocence of Dr. Lester. Black as is the evidence against him, I cannot think that he killed his own daughter. The murder may have been committed by a tramp for robbery." "No," said Herne, doggedly. "Lovel killed her." "Mr. Chaskin," said Paul, taking no notice of his interruption, "were the earrings and rings and bracelets of Milly on the body when you found it?" "Yes," replied Chaskin, promptly, "they were; and her purse was in her pocket also. I thought the murder might be due to robbery, and I examined the body carefully; but nothing had been touched. It was lying with outspread hands face downwards. Apparently the poor girl had been shot from behind and fell prone on her face stone dead." "Nothing was touched," murmured Paul to himself. "Then that disposes of my tramp theory. Whatever the motive of the crime, it was not robbery." "Of course not," said Darcy, quickly; "it was jealousy." "Of the dead girl?" "Of me--on the part of Lovel. I believe he killed her." "He would not commit a crime for so slight a cause," protested Chaskin. "Why not? Lovel has gipsy blood in his veins; he told me so himself, and his passions once roused he does not care what he says or does. Face to face with him, I'll force him into a confession." "Then you believe that Dr. Lester is innocent?" "As innocent as I believe Lovel is guilty!" replied Herne, with emphasis. After this direct statement, Chaskin and Mexton felt there was no more to be said. CHAPTER VIII. IN THE WINDING LANE. Between the common and the village there extended a fairly broad belt of trees which sprang from a deep-red soil, apparently volcanic in its origin. Through this wood there ran a narrow road in many a curve, purposely made tortuous so as to prolong the pleasure of walking under the shade of leafy boughs in the hot days of summer. From its formation this pathway--for it was little else--was called the Winding Lane, and at either end there was a stile shutting it in, so that no vehicles or horses could pass, but had to gain the common or village by the broad high road which skirted the town. Along the lane seats were placed for the convenience of passers-by, and in the long summer twilights the youths and maidens of Barnstead were accustomed to rest thereon and exchange love talk. Most of the marriages among the peasantry rose from meetings and promises in the Winding Lane.