Bess sat down and wondered what could be the meaning of Stephen's presence at "The Pines" on that night. She knew that he had come over from Beorminster to escort his mother home. But then Mrs. Marsh had been with Mr. Corn the whole evening, and there was no reason why Stephen should have gone out of his way to visit "The Pines." It was in the afternoon that Mrs. Marsh had seen the Colonel, and Stephen must have known that she would not be at the great house after nine o'clock. This, Bess, calculating by her own movements, was the hour at which Sidney had seen him. He was looking up at the tower too, so Sidney said. "But he can't have had anything to do with it," she thought restlessly, "he disliked the Colonel, but he didn't--no, I won't even think of it! Such a thing if true, would kill Ida. Yet I must find out from Stephen himself why he was in the wood on that night." She reflected. At this hour Stephen would be alone. Why should she not go over and see him. In one way or another she could tell him about the pistol and the silver bullet and see from the expression of his face if he knew anything about either. It was incredible that Stephen should have fired the shot. He was the Colonel's heir; but even to gain the money he certainly was too good a man to commit a crime. Yet if what Sidney said was true, Stephen had been on the lawn about the time Colonel Carr was shot. He must know something about the matter. "I'll see him," said Bess putting on her hat again. "I shall not be able to sleep a wink until I know what he has to say." In another half hour she was in the library where Stephen was established on the sofa. He looked thin, and rather worried, but his face brightened when he saw her. "This is good of you Bess," he said stretching out his hand, "I am all alone; Herrick is in Town; Ida at Beorminster. Not a soul to speak to. Draw that chair close to the fire. Shall I ring for tea?" "It is too early yet," she said reassured by this bright talk. It was incredible that a man who spoke so lightly should have a black crime on his soul. "I just want to chatter for a bit; I am so tired of my own company." "So am I. Well you talk about Jim, and I'll discourse about Ida. We shall be quite happy. By the way, when will Ida be back?" "About dinner time. She will come over and see you afterwards." "I wish she would come to dinner here," said Stephen, "you also and Frank and Sidney. I miss Jim horribly, and it is no fun eating a long solemn meal alone. Upon my word Bess, I sometimes long for the days when Petronella's macaroni could be eaten hurriedly, and without this formality. I would rather have a book than a footman about the table." "What a mixed way of talking," said Bess pensively, "you _have_ a book on the table as a rule, I suppose you are glad all the same that you have the Colonel's money?"