The Paradise Mystery

e-but not before Bryce had had time to assume an air and look of innocent and genuine surprise. Harker affected no surprise at all-he looke

I should meet you in these far-off parts, Dr. Bryce! This is a

know, and there are a good many coincidences in it. There's nothing very wonderful in my

it or not, he showed no sign of either belief or disbelief. He took the chair which Bryc

w and then. No," he went on, as Bryce thanked him and took a cigar, "I didn't know you'd finished with t

it?" inqui

"I come down to see him now and then-I've been here since yest

look round," a

k," said Harker. "It's a longish journe

ies out, Mr. Harker. Well-as you've treated me to a very fine cigar, now you'll let me treat you to a drop of

Bryce was wondering all the time if his companion's story of having a friend at Barthorpe was no more than an excuse, and when he was alone in his own

ining the book after the inquest. No, no, Mr. Harker!-the facts are too plain-the evidences too obvious. And yet-what interest has a retired

arly half-past ten. And at that hour Simpson Harker, who had breakfasted before nine, was in close consultation with his friend-that friend being none other than the local superintendent of police, who was confidentially closeted with the old man in his private house, whither Harker, by previous arrangement, had

'll keep an eye on him while he's in your neighbourhood. Put your best plainclothes man on to him at once-he'll easily know him from the description I gave you-and let him shadow him wherever he goes. And then let me know of his movement-he's certainly on the track of something, and what he does may be useful to m

to himself by asking questions of present-day inhabitants, whose curiosity might then be aroused; he knew better methods than that. Every town, said Bryce to himself, possesses public records-parish registers, burgess rolls, lists of voters; even small towns have directories which are more or less complete-he could search these for any mention or record of anybody or any family of the n

n Bryce's opinion, it was something of a wild-goose chase to go there, but the similarity in the name of the village and of the dead man at Wrychester might have its significance, and it was but a two miles' stroll from Barthorpe. He found Braden Medworth a very small, quiet, and picturesque place, with an old church on the banks of a river which promised go

d in names. I am thinking"-here he used one more of his easily found inventions-"of writing a book

s. "Our parish registers have been copied and printed, and here is the volume-everything is in there from

odding through an open window at an ancient tavern which stood in the valley beneath, close to an old stone bridge. "Perhaps you will kindly

d the book away. And while he sat in the inn parlour awaiting his lunch, he turned to the car

mation escape his lips. But the follower, knowing his man was safe for an hour, was in the bar outside eating bread and cheese and drinking ale, and Bryce's surprise was witnessed b

nection with the object of his search. There the name stood out before him, to the exclusion of all other

t he had discovered more than he had ever hoped for. He r

as, London, to Mary Bewery, spinster, of this parish, by the Vica

ho indeed, laughed Bryce, but John Braden, who had just come by his death in Wrychester Paradise? And there was the name of Mark Ransford as witness. What was the further probability? That Mark Ransford had been John Brake's best man; tha

ne, he set off for the vicarage again, intent on getting further information, and before he reached the vicarage gates noticed, by accident, a place whereat he was more likely to get it than from the vicar-who was a youngish man. At the end of the few

ned in-to open the book and

bourne mentioned there?"

old shoemaker briskly, after

itness that marria

ed at the church

ty years, sir," he said. "And I took it on from

rching himself on the bench at which the shoemak

ered the old man with a smile. "Mis

he?" deman

ge," replied Claybourne.

ed?-Mr. Brake," contin

ourne, pointing at the river. "Famous for our trout we are here, you know, sir. And Brak

r him, too?"

out of just now. They came two or three times a year-and they were a bit thick with our parson of that time-not this one: his predecessor-and they used to go up to the vicarage and smoke their pipes and cigars with him-and of cour

this information greed

pping the open book. "I know some people of

shook his head

ations. She'd been with the old vicar some time, and I don't remember

ere for a good many times before the marriage, I suppose you'd h

doctor-I mind that well enough, because once when him and Mr. Brake were fishing here, Thomas Joynt's wife fell downstairs a

ld parish clerk a small present and turned to go. But another ques

ne in whose family Miss Bewery was

er came back here once, not even to pay us a friendly visit-he was a queerish sort. But I'll tell you what, sir," he added, evidently anxious to give his visitor good value for his half-crown, "our present vicar has o

d book, and asked to look at the registers for the ye

as he paid the search fees. "Celebrated by your predecessor, Mr. Gilwaters. I should be gla

from the account there given appeared to be an elderly man who had now retired, live

you?" asked the vicar as his cal

mmensely," answered Bryce from the foot of the vi

ed by his shadow, who saw him safely into the Peacock an hour later-and

"Left by the five-thir