Murdoch’s face flushed with anger. “I am your subordinate， sir，under your roof. I am not aware that I owe you any account of myprivate actions.”
Stackhurst’s nerves were near the surface after all he hadendured. Otherwise， perhaps， he would have waited. Now he losthis temper completely.
“In the circumstances your answer is pure impertinence， Mr. Murdoch.”
“Your own question might perhaps come under the sameheading.”
“This is not the first time that I have had to overlook yourinsubordinate ways. It will certainly be the last. You will kindlymake fresh arrangements for your future as speedily as you can.”
“I had intended to do so. I have lost to-day the only person whomade The Gables habitable.”
He strode off upon his way， while Stackhurst， with angry eyes，stood glaring after him. “Is he not an impossible， intolerable man？”
he cried.
The one thing that impressed itself forcibly upon my mindwas that Mr. Ian Murdoch was taking the first chance to open apath of escape from the scene of the crime. Suspicion， vague andnebulous， was now beginning to take outline in my mind. Perhapsthe visit to the Bellamys might throw some further light upon thematter. Stackhurst pulled himself together， and we went forwardto the house.
Mr. Bellamy proved to be a middle-aged man with a flaming redbeard. He seemed to be in a very angry mood， and his face wassoon as florid as his hair.
“No， sir， I do not desire any particulars. My son here” —indicatinga powerful young man， with a heavy， sullen face， in the corner ofthe sitting-room— “is of one mind with me that Mr. McPherson’sattentions to Maud were insulting. Yes， sir， the word ‘marriage’ wasnever mentioned， and yet there were letters and meetings， and agreat deal more of which neither of us could approve. She has nomother， and we are her only guardians. We are determined——”
But the words were taken from his mouth by the appearanceof the lady herself. There was no gainsaying that she would havegraced any assembly in the world. Who could have imaginedthat so rare a flower would grow from such a root and in suchan atmosphere？ Women have seldom been an attraction to me，for my brain has always governed my heart， but I could not lookupon her perfect clear-cut face， with all the soft freshness of thedownlands in her delicate colouring， without realizing that noyoung man would cross her path unscathed. Such was the girl whohad pushed open the door and stood now， wide-eyed and intense，in front of Harold Stackhurst.
“I know already that Fitzroy is dead，” she said. “Do not be afraidto tell me the particulars.”
“This other gentleman of yours let us know the news，” explainedthe father.
“There is no reason why my sister should be brought into thematter，” growled the younger man.
The sister turned a sharp， fierce look upon him. “This is mybusiness， William. Kindly leave me to manage it in my own way.
By all accounts there has been a crime committed. If I can help toshow who did it， it is the least I can do for him who is gone.”
She listened to a short account from my companion， with acomposed concentration which showed me that she possessedstrong character as well as great beauty. Maud Bellamy will alwaysremain in my memory as a most complete and remarkable woman.
It seems that she already knew me by sight， for she turned to meat the end.
“Bring them to justice， Mr. Holmes. You have my sympathy andmy help， whoever they may be.” It seemed to me that she glanceddefiantly at her father and brother as she spoke.
“Thank you，” said I. “I value a woman’s instinct in such matters.
You use the word ‘they.’ You think that more than one wasconcerned？”
“I knew Mr. McPherson well enough to be aware that he was abrave and a strong man. No single person could ever have inflictedsuch an outrage upon him.”
“Might I have one word with you alone？”
“I tell you， Maud， not to mix yourself up in the matter，” criedher father angrily.
She looked at me helplessly. “What can I do？”
“The whole world will know the facts presently， so there can beno harm if I discuss them here，” said I. “I should have preferredprivacy， but if your father will not allow it he must share thedeliberations.” Then I spoke of the note which had been found inthe dead man’s pocket. “It is sure to be produced at the inquest.
May I ask you to throw any light upon it that you can？”
“I see no reason for mystery，” she answered. “We were engagedto be married， and we only kept it secret because Fitzroy’s uncle，who is very old and said to be dying， might have disinherited himif he had married against his wish. There was no other reason.”
“You could have told us，” growled Mr. Bellamy.
“So I would， father， if you had ever shown sympathy.”
“I object to my girl picking up with men outside her ownstation.”
“It was your prejudice against him which prevented us fromtelling you. As to this appointment” —she fumbled in her dressand produced a crumpled note— “it was in answer to this.”
DEAREST [ran the message]：
The old place on the beach just after sunset on Tuesday. It is theonly time I can get away.
F.M.
“Tuesday was to-day， and I had meant to meet him to-night.”
I turned over the paper. “This never came by post. How did youget it？”
“I would rather not answer that question. It has really nothingto do with the matter which you are investigating. But anythingwhich bears upon that I will most freely answer.”
She was as good as her word， but there was nothing which washelpful in our investigation. She had no reason to think that herfiancé had any hidden enemy， but she admitted that she had hadseveral warm admirers.
“May I ask if Mr. Ian Murdoch was one of them？”
She blushed and seemed confused.
“There was a time when I thought he was. But that was allchanged when he understood the relations between Fitzroy andmyself.”
Again the shadow round this strange man seemed to me tobe taking more definite shape. His record must be examined.