"
"I know Mr. Courthorne drove in that night," said the young English
girl, who was not endued with very much discretion.
"Courthorne," said one of the bystanders, and there was a momentary
silence that was very expressive. "Was he concerned in what took
place, Ferris?"
"Yes," said the lad with apparent reluctance. "Mrs. Macdonald, you
will remember that they dragged it out of me, but I will tell you
nothing more whatever."
"It seems to me you have told us quite sufficient and perhaps a trifle
too much," said somebody.
There was a curious silence. All of those present were more or less
acquainted with Courthorne's past history, and the suggestion of foul
play coupled with the mention of a professional gambler had been
significant. Ferris, while committing himself in no way, had certainly
said sufficient. Then there was a sudden turning of heads as a young
woman moved quietly into the midst of the group. She was ominously
calm, but she stood very straight, and there was a little hard glitter
in her eyes, which reminded one or two of the men who noticed it of
those of Colonel Barrington. The fingers of one hand were also closed
at her side.
"I overheard you telling a story, Ferris, but you have a bad memory and
left rather too much out," she said.
"They compelled me to tell them what I did, Miss Barrington," said the
lad, who winced beneath her gaze. "Now there is really nothing to be
gained by going any further into the affair.
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