"Oh, Angus." Elspeth's eyes filled with tears.
"Leave it to me, darling. What Mrs. Kind says is perfectly true, but there is a way out of the difficulty. Let me consult Browne and Sweetlips, and----"
"Oh," said Elspeth, starting, "Dr. Browne is here. I left him running after a motor car."
Elspeth explained the episode of the insult, and what the little doctor had said about the cigarette stump. Herries, knowing the theory of Kind, became quite excited, as he guessed that if this clue was followed up it might lead to serious developments, likely to secure his safety.
"But I don't see what a woman can have to do with the murder," he said perplexed.
"Leave it to Sweetlips," said Mrs. Kind, seriously. "He's the chap to find a needle in a haystack."
"Ho," snorted Rachel, rubbing her nose, "did you ever know a case where there wasn't a woman?" She glanced merrily at Elspeth. "There's two in this affair."
"Three," said Elspeth quickly, "you forget Miss Tedder. By offering this reward, Angus," she blushed as she shyly pronounced the name, "I can see that she wants to hang you. Well then, I will put my wits against hers and save her cousin."
"Save your husband that is to be," whispered Herries, fondly.
Elspeth took hold of the lapels of his poor jacket----
"Do you really mean it: do you really mean it?" she asked, earnestly. "Think of what I am, as Sweetlips told you,--the daughter of Michael Gowrie, who was left in pawn by him, to be a drudge at the 'Marsh Inn.'"
"You are a lady,--the lady of my love, and the sweetest woman in the wide world."
"Well," said Rachel, staring at Elspeth, while this was being whispered into her ears, "if she don't look reglar, slap up, pretty!"
It was true. A lovely pink blush was over-spreading the pale face of the girl, a smile of ecstasy parted her lips to show perfectly white teeth, and the whole worn weary body seemed to be suddenly rejuvenated by the power of the loving word. It was like the sun on a gloomy day emerging from behind a cloud,--a promise of that hidden loveliness which would reveal itself when she became the wife of the man she had dared so much to save.
Mrs. Kind beckoned to the lovers who wooed so boldly in her presence and smiled.
"Y' don't know that I'm a gipsy of sorts," she said, taking Herries' hand. "Let me read the lines, doctor. I've read Elspeth's before, ain't I, ducky? Lor, I read misery and sorrow, and folks as wished her harm,--all of 'em to skip when the man came."