With a spring which carried him halfway across the room, Trenholm gained the hall and threw open the front door, his police dogs at his heels. They swept by him and raced around the house and down the driveway, the sheriff and Roberts behind them. As the dogs gave tongue, a strong, powerful voice called Trenholm's name. "Call off your dogs, Trenholm!" And turning his flashlight on the newcomer, the sheriff recognized Alexander Nash, the Rolls-Royce standing down the roadside. In the library Betty turned aside from her feverish scanning of Trenholm's papers on the table, to find Alan standing, with his back partly turned, drinking the remaining whisky out of the flask. Betty was by his side in an instant. "Stop, Alan; you mustn't!" she pleaded, real terror in her handsome eyes. "You promised me--" Alexander Nash's heavy tread, as he and Roberts entered the room, caused her to swing swiftly in their direction. "Your aunt was alarmed by your absence, Betty," explained Nash, and his voice sounded loudly in the sudden stillness. "She learned of your trip to the cemetery and sent me to bring you home." CHAPTER XIII THE SPIDER AND THE FLY MIRIAM WARD opened the window a little further and looked out. It was nearly midnight and the cold, raw breeze was an agreeable contrast to the atmosphere of the sick room. Mrs. Nash's preparations for the night were long-drawn-out and Miriam had found her at her worst. In turn she waxed dictatorial, fault-finding and fretful, and Miriam's stock of patience was severely taxed. It seemed an interminable time before Mrs. Nash finally closed her eyes with the avowed intention of taking "forty winks," and the imperative command that she be awakened the moment her husband returned. Miriam made herself as comfortable as possible on the window seat, having carried a sofa pillow with her, and pulling her sweater more closely over her shoulders, she leaned her head against the wooden sash and stared out into the night. The stars were out and the moonlight added beauty to the grounds. It all appeared so calm and peaceful, so utterly different from the last four hectic days. Miriam sighed involuntarily and closed her eyes. When she opened them a few minutes later she saw the powerful headlights of a car coming along the turnpike. A second later it had swung into the driveway and Miriam recognized the Rolls-Royce. The front door was toward the other side of the house, and Miriam lost sight of the car as it circled the approach to the _porte cochère_. Undoubtedly Doctor Nash had returned. Miriam's expression hardened. Her outspoken, frank disposition made it next to impossible for her to cloak her aversion even under the ordinary courtesies of the sick room. She was commencing to loathe Doctor Nash; while wondering dimly why two such opposite natures as Dora Carter and the clergyman had ever fallen in love with each other. Truly, the marriage market was but a lottery!