Still this conclusion, supported as it was by facts, did not explain the attitude of Hilliston. Assuming the guilt of Denis Bantry, the complicity of Jeringham, there appeared to be no reason why Hilliston should protect them at Thorston, and throw obstacles in the way of the truth's discovery. Tait was completely nonplussed and could think of no explanation. And then he remembered Mrs. Bezel's letter, and the mention of Louisa Sinclair. Hilliston, according to Mrs. Bezel, knew this woman, and she knew who had committed the crime. But how could she know unless she had been concealed, like Dick Pental, in the garden on that night? Tait was quite certain that Denis Bantry was guilty, but the hint of Mrs. Bezel threatened to disturb this view; and yet what better evidence was obtainable than that of an eye-witness. Still Tait remembered that Dicky confessed he had not seen the blow struck. What if Louisa Sinclair had? That was the question he asked himself. Under the circumstances it was necessary to find out who this woman was. Tait did not judge it wise to ask Hilliston, for the simple reason that the lawyer would not admit the truth. There was no obvious reason why he should not, but Tait had sufficient experience of Hilliston's trickery and evasion in the past to know that his admissions were untrustworthy. There only remained for him to search for Louisa Sinclair in Horriston, question her if she were alive, or learn all that he could if she were dead. And now occurred a coincidence which unwittingly put Tait on the right track. When within half a mile of Horriston he met a clergyman swinging along at a good pace, and in him recognized a former college companion. The recognition and the delight were mutual. "My dear Brandon, this is indeed a surprise!" exclaimed Tait, holding out his hand. "I had no idea that you were in these parts." "I have only been vicar here for a year," answered Brandon cordially; "but what are you doing at Horriston, my friend?" "Oh, I have come down partly on business and partly on pleasure." "Then dismiss business for the moment, and come to luncheon with me. I am just going to my house. Where are you staying?" "At the Royal Victoria." "A dismal place. You must come frequently to see us while you stay here, and we will do what we can to cheer you up. Mrs. Brandon will be delighted to see you." "Oh! So you are married?" "For the last five years. Two children. Well, I am glad to see you again. Do you stay here long?" "A few days only," replied Tait carelessly; "but it entirely depends on my business." "Anything important?" "Yes and no. By the way, you may be able to help me, Brandon. Do you know anyone in this parish called Miss Louisa Sinclair?" The vicar reflected for a few moments, and shook his head. "No, I never heard the name. She must have been here before my time. Have you any reason for wanting to see her?"