“Mrs. Higgs” was a man.

Even with this knowledge to help him, Max, as he stared again at the dead face, found it difficult to recognize in the still features those which in life had inspired him with feelings of repulsion.

Just a quiet, inoffensive, respectable-looking man not coarse or low in type; this would have been his comment upon the dead man, if he had known nothing about him.  Max shuddered as he withdrew his gaze; and, as he did so, he met the eyes of Carrie.

He beckoned to her to come away with him, and she followed him as far as the door, toward which some members of the household, to whom the news had penetrated, were now hastening.

“Carrie!” cried he, as he looked searchingly in her face, “you knew this?  How long have you known it?”

She could scarcely answer.  She was shaking from head to foot, and was evidently suffering from a great shock.

“Yes, I knew it, but only since I came here.  It was part of what Mr. Dudley Horne let out in his raving.”

“Only part of it?” cried Max.

But Carrie would confess nothing more.  And, as Mr. Wedmore came across the yard at this moment, followed by Dr. Haselden, Carrie ran back into the house as Max met his father.

“What’s all this about a dead man found in the barn?” asked Mr. Wedmore, with all the arrogance of the country gentleman, who thinks that no one has a right to die on his premises without his permission.

Max held his father back for a moment until the doctor had passed on.  In the excitement of this occurrence, Mr. Wedmore was glad to have an opportunity of appearing to forget that there was any quarrel between them.  On second thoughts, he inclined to think that he had perhaps, on this occasion, been a little too hard on his son, and he was anxious for some loop-hole by which he could creep out of the consequences of his own sternness.  This, however, could hardly have been guessed by his manner, which was at least as arrogant as ever.

“It’s somebody who was mixed up in the death of Edward Jacobs, sir, I think,” said Max, in a low voice.  “A man who has been living down at the East End of London disguised as a woman, and who was, I believe, at the bottom of all the mischief.”

“Man disguised as a woman?” cried Mr. Wedmore, incredulously.  “What an improbable story!  And what should he do down here in my barn?”

“I think he must have come down to see Dudley, sir.  We believe that it was he who tried to drown Dudley, after he had succeeded in drowning Edward Jacobs.”

Mr. Wedmore frowned in perplexity.

“Trying to drown Dudley!  What on earth should he do that for?  What had Dudley to do with him?”

“Well, sir, we don’t quite know.  But Dudley was acquainted with this man, undoubtedly, though we don’t know whether he knew him to be a man, or only as Mrs. Higgs, which was the name the man went by.”