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Author’s dedication:
To the memory of LtC (ret) William Brendan Welsh, US Army Special
Forces. I knew him as “Boss Mongo” on a message board, as good a
friendship as I have ever had with someone I met only virtually. He admired
my writing, while I admired his many accomplishments. We were going to
meet up some day but never got the chance. You left us too soon, Boss.
AIR CAMPAIGN
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
CHRONOLOGY
ATTACKER’S CAPABILITIES
DEFENDER’S CAPABILITIES
CAMPAIGN OBJECTIVES
THE CAMPAIGN
AFTERMATH AND ANALYSIS
FURTHER READING
INTRODUCTION
By February 1942 the Allies had been running convoys to Russia via the
Arctic route for six months. Losses had been light through to the end of that
month and by then 97 ships had been sent to Murmansk and Arkhangelsk,
with another 61 returned. In 158 sailings only one ship had been sunk (a
second was torpedoed, but towed safely to port).

The fear of losses due to a potential attack on Convoy PQ-17 by Tirpitz led to massive
losses of independently sailing merchantmen to Luftwaffe aircraft and U-boats. One victim
is shown being sunk here. (USNHHC)

This was not to say the voyage was easy. The threat of enemy action was
ever present, even if it had not posed a serious danger during 1941.
German-occupied Norway and German-allied Finland offered nearby bases
from which the Kriegsmarine (the German navy) and Luftwaffe could
launch attacks, which therefore required a heavy escort for Russian
convoys.
Nor was enemy action the only threat. Arctic conditions made the
journey perilous at all times, with ice damage an ever-present threat that
increased during the winter months, and Arctic storms another danger. A
man going overboard in the Arctic Ocean or surrounding waters had only
minutes to live before succumbing to hypothermia.
Yet the Arctic convoys were vital. Soviet Russia was Germany’s biggest
opponent, and if the Soviet Union surrendered Anglo-American chances of
defeating Germany shrank dramatically. The Soviets had to be kept in the
war. Much of the Soviet industrial belt was overrun by Germany, and while
it was relocating war production east of the Urals, Russia faced critical
shortages of weapons, ammunition, and all the hardware required for
modern war.
The Western Allies had all the materiel in plenty, but the challenge lay in
getting it to the Soviet Union. Three supply routes were available. One ran
from the North American Pacific Coast to Vladivostok and from there to
the battlefield through the Trans-Siberian Railroad. A second wound its
way from Britain or North America around Africa into the Persian Gulf,
across Iran and across the Caucuses or Caspian Sea. Both these routes were
long and slow, and the Iranian route was just opening as 1942 began.
The shortest and fastest route ran by sea across the Arctic Ocean to
Russian Arctic ports, but it was also the most perilous. Providing an
adequate escort for Arctic convoys strained Allied naval resources requiring
destroyers and antisubmarine craft to protect Atlantic convoys from U-
boats. Protection was also needed to prevent attacks by Focke-Wulf
Condors. Arctic convoys passed within easy range of Kriegsmarine surface
ships and Luftwaffe medium bombers, so cruisers and battleships were
required as protection from the surface ships, and antiaircraft ships
(including antiaircraft cruisers) were used to guard against air attack.

The Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union in June 1941 brought the Soviets into the war as a
British ally. Keeping the Soviets fighting was a British priority, leading to the institution of
Arctic convoys to bring munitions to Russia. (AC)
 The most exposed part of the voyage was made without air cover. The
nearest Coastal Command airfields to the Arctic run were in Iceland and the
Shetlands, but land-based aircraft stationed there lacked the range to reach
convoys north and east of Norway’s Narvik harbour. The Soviet air forces
might have provided air cover on the eastern end of the run, but the Soviets
were reluctant to operate aircraft over open water and needed the limited
aircraft they had to protect their own ports and cities. Aircraft carriers
would have been welcome, but, in January 1942, the Royal Navy’s fleet
carriers were too valuable to risk on convoy escort duty. Furthermore, the
Royal Navy had lost its only commissioned escort carrier in December
1941 and no more would be available until the last half of 1942.
Despite that, through to the end of February 1942, Arctic convoys
successfully reached their destinations with minimal losses. But in March
that began to change, owing to two British Commando raids the previous
December. Hitler took the raids on Vågsoy Island and the Lofoten Islands,
which took place on 26 and 27 December 1941, as precursors to a British
invasion of Norway, and ordered warplanes, U-boats and warships to
protect the country.
A major purpose of the raids was to draw German forces away from
areas where the Allies intended to fight, but it succeeded too well. German
ground forces sent to Norway were effectively removed from fighting
theatres elsewhere, but German air and sea forces could now reach well
beyond the Norwegian coastline, threatening the Allied convoys. Neither
Admiral Erich Raeder of the Kriegsmarine nor Reichsmarschall Hermann
Göring of the Luftwaffe wanted their forces in Scandinavia standing idle,
and the Arctic convoys proved irresistible.
At first the Allied losses remained low. Despite the Royal Navy’s
concerns over what Kriegsmarine surface forces might do to convoys, that
fear went largely unrealized over the first nine months of the Arctic run.
Losses were mainly due to U-boats and the hazards of the sea, but then the
Luftwaffe joined the fight. During March and April, the Luftwaffe’s
contribution was minor, but by May, and now carrying torpedoes as well as
bombs, Luftwaffe bombers sank half the Allied ships lost during Convoy
PQ-15. Having found their stride, the Luftwaffe became the true menace to
Allied shipping, and their ability to find convoys grew with the lengthening
Arctic summer days.
 So did the peril faced by merchantmen on the Arctic run. Though the
Allied naval commanders obsessed over the threat posed by the surface
ships of the Kriegsmarine, at war’s end the number of Allied ships sunk by
these warships could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Meanwhile,
however, U-boats and Luftwaffe bombers were ripping Arctic convoys
apart. In July 1942, following an ill-advised dispersal of Convoy PQ-17 a
massacre ensued in which 24 of the 38 merchant ships in the convoy were
sunk. Three were lost before the convoy dispersed; 21 afterwards. Of that
total, seven were sunk by Luftwaffe aircraft and nine crippled by bombers
allowing them to be finished off by U-boats.
The Allies tried everything they could to counter the threat posed by the
Luftwaffe. They added antiaircraft ships to the convoys, sent RAF units to
Murmansk and the Kola Peninsula to attempt to close the Luftwaffe’s bases
through bombing, put Hurricane fighters on merchant ships equipped with
catapults (this allowed a one-shot attack by the Hurricane, which had to
ditch afterwards), and finally, they committed one of their scarce escort
carriers to an Arctic convoy.
The climax came in September 1942, with convoy PQ-18. The Luftwaffe
threw everything it could at the convoy, and the Allies retaliated in kind. A
bloody fight ensued, at the end of which the convoy remained together but
30 per cent of the ships sent were sunk – over three-quarters of the losses
were due to air attack.
The Luftwaffe lost 15 to 20 per cent of the aircraft it committed to the
battle, but the Allies threw in the towel and suspended Arctic convoy
sailing until December, relying on the long Arctic night to shield them from
the Luftwaffe. They never again attempted an Arctic convoy during the
summer months of June through August, due to the perceived threat of
Luftwaffe aircraft. However, the Luftwaffe’s tide ebbed as quickly as it
rose. In November the Allies landed in North Africa in Operation Torch,
and to counter this and a new British offensive in northeast Africa, the
Luftwaffe’s bombers harassing Arctic convoys were redeployed to the
Mediterranean.
The Arctic convoys continued to face the twin perils of the
Kriegsmarine’s U-boats and surface warships but most of the aircraft
remaining in the Arctic Circle were maritime reconnaissance. The Arctic
run remained hazardous, but not nearly as hazardous as when the Luftwaffe
was present in force. From December 1943 when convoys resumed until
May 1945 when the war ended, aircraft sank only one ship sailing in an
Arctic convoy, and sank only one more during an air raid on a Russian port.
The 1942 Arctic convoy battles proved to be the last successful air
campaign of the Luftwaffe. Even there, success was tenuous. German
success depended heavily on Allied reluctance to risk merchant convoys to
the threat of German air attack – a threat that existed largely within the
imagination of Allied planners. Regardless, the result constricted supplies
sent by the Arctic route for the rest of the war.
This campaign was hard-fought by both sides, and the margin of victory
narrow as both adversaries strove to meet their goals in one of the most
inhospitable places in the globe. The Arctic was an area hostile to ships and
even more unforgiving to aircraft – the environment as much a foe to each
side as the enemy they were fighting. The men of both sides which fought
this campaign were courageous and resolute, and all were tested to the
limits of human endurance. This book tells their story.
STRATEGIC OVERVIEW
CHRONOLOGY
1941
22 June Germany attacks the Soviet Union.
12 July Anglo-Soviet Agreement signed, obligating
Britain to supply the Soviet Union with
munitions.
21–31 August Convoy Dervish sails to Arkhangelsk, Russia,
from Hvalfjörður, Iceland, beginning Arctic
convoys to and from Russia.
28 September The PQ–QP convoy series opens with the
sailing of Convoy QP-1 to Scapa Flow.
10 December United States declares war on Germany and
Italy.
26–27 December Vågsoy Island and the Lofoten Islands raided
by British commandos.
29 December Hitler decides the commando raids presage a
British invasion of Norway, ordering
Wehrmacht, Kriegsmarine and Luftwaffe
reinforcements sent to the area.
1942
2 January The 5,135grt Waziristan becomes the first
Arctic convoy ship lost.
17 January HMS Matabele sunk by U-454, the first British
warship lost on the Arctic run.
24 January First Kampfgeschwader (KG) 30 aircraft arrive
 at Banak and Bardufoss.
March KG 26 begins transferring two Gruppes to
Bardufoss and Banak.

December 1941 raids on Vågsoy Island (shown here) and the Lofoten Islands convinced
Hitler the British planned an invasion of Norway. His orders led to reinforcement of Luftflotte
5 in Norway, making bombers available to attack Arctic convoys. (AC)

11 April Luftwaffe Ju 88s bomb Convoy QP-10,

sinking 7,161grt cargo ship Empire Cowper. It
is the first ship sunk in convoy by Luftwaffe
aircraft.
14 April Luftwaffe dive bombers sink British steamship
Lancaster Castle (5,172grt) in port after its
arrival at Murmansk in PQ-12.
3 May Six He 111 bombers of KG 26 make the first
Luftwaffe torpedo bomber attack of World War
 II. They hit three ships, sinking two and
damaging a third.
21–30 May Convoy PQ-16 sails from Reykjavík to
Murmansk. Constantly attacked by Luftwaffe
aircraft, it loses six ships to aircraft with three
damaged.
June Final Luftwaffe reinforcements arrive in
Norway.
26 June Convoy QP-13 leaves Arkhangelsk. Despite
being spotted by Luftwaffe reconnaissance, it
is largely ignored due to the Germans
concentrating on Convoy PQ-17.
27 June Convoy PQ-17 departs Reykjavík.
4 July Convoy PQ-17 ordered dispersed.
7 July Convoy QP-13 arrives at Reykjavík after
losing five ships to a friendly minefield. These
are the only casualties suffered by QP-13.
25 July Final five surviving ships from PQ-17 arrive in
Arkhangelsk.
2 September Convoy PQ-18 departs Loch Ewe, Scotland for
Murmansk.
13 September First Luftwaffe attack on PQ-18, including the
war’s first ‘Goldene Zange’ attack.
14–18 September Luftwaffe makes heavy attacks daily on
Convoy PQ-18.
22 September PQ-19 is cancelled.
Two ships destined to play important roles in PQ-17 were the ASW trawler Ayrshire and the
Hog Islander Troubadour. Ayrshire is shown in this photo taken from Troubadour’s deck.
The M-3 tank in the foreground is part of Troubadour’s deck cargo. (USNHHC)

26 September PQ-18 arrives at Arkhangelsk, after losing ten

of the convoy’s 40 cargo ships to air attacks
and two to U-boats.
29 October–3 Operation FB, individual sailing by unescorted
November merchantmen, replaces escorted Arctic
convoys.
8 November An Anglo-American army invades French
North Africa as Operation Torch begins.
8–12 November Luftwaffe units begin transferring from
Norway and Finland to the Mediterranean.
17 November PQ–QP series terminates with the sailing of
QP-15 from Kola Inlet on 17 November and its
arrival at Loch Ewe on 30 November.
15 December British resume Arctic convoys, with a new
convoy code. Convoy JW-51A departs
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"You know Mr. Lovel is almost engaged----"

"To Miss Clyde, I suppose you mean. Oh, dear! no, he isn't! He has
just told me that he cares nothing for her and a good deal for me."

"But you are engaged to Mr. Herne."

"I am, my dear; I am!" retorted Milly swinging round on the tips of
her toes. "Don't you wish you were?"

Iris flushed crimson, for Milly knew well enough that she more than
admired the squire. "If I were," she said, evading the question, "I
should act in a more honourable way towards him."

"Pooh! pooh! A few words with Mr. Lovel won't hurt him."

"A few words, as you call them, will hurt both men. You can't marry
Mr. Lovel."

"I don't want to; nor can you marry Darcy. Look here, my love,"
continued Milly coolly: "please don't lecture me any more. If you
think Darcy ought to know, tell him about Mr. Lovel, then he'll break
off the match with me, and perhaps you'll catch him."

"I would not think of doing such a thing!" cried Iris vehemently.

"Why not? I'd do it in your place. You are too good, my dear; too,
too good!"

"I'll speak to father," said Iris, who from habit called the doctor so.

"What good will that do? In the first place, he'll probably not be
sober; and, in the second, he's too anxious for me to marry Darcy to
tell on me. Oh, dear! I wish you were to marry Darcy, Iris; he is just
the prig for you!"

Iris looked at the fire with a frown, and not caring to trust herself to
speech, ran out of the room and into the garden. There was
something so shameless about Milly's speeches and actions with
regard to Lovel that she was almost tempted to tell Herne and
prevent the match. But then she loved Herne, and her intervention
would be put down to jealousy.

"I can do nothing, nothing," she thought; "if Mr. Lovel----"

At this moment the man himself passed slowly down the road in
close conversation with Gran Jimboy. His face was quite pale, and he
looked as though he had received a shock--as indeed he had. Mrs.
Jimboy had revealed something connected with the meeting of the
next night!

CHAPTER III.

THE SERMON.

By the time Lovel and his oddly-chosen companion had passed out
of sight, Iris regained her composure and returned to the house. She
said nothing to Milly, who was now playing waltzes on the jingling
piano, and did not even re-enter the drawing room. It was quite
useless to expostulate further with the spoilt beauty; so Iris went
back to help Eliza in the kitchen, and to see after the dinner.
Nevertheless, she thought a great deal about Milly's flirtation with
Lovel; and, since she could do nothing with the girl, wondered if it
would be wise to inform Dr. Lester of the situation.

It must be clearly understood that Iris did not wish Milly to marry
the Squire of Barnstead. She was in love with him herself, and would
have dearly liked to become his wife. The mysticism of the man
attracted her in no small degree, and she sympathised with his
aspirations and religious views. It was clear to the most unobservant
that Milly would not make him a good wife; and nothing would have
pleased Iris better than that something should occur to interrupt the
marriage. But she was resolved that the obstacle should not be
placed in the way by her, lest it should be said that she was
scheming to obtain Herne for herself. Rather than she should be
accused of such selfishness, Iris was determined to bring about the
marriage by every means in her power. The one danger likely to
prevent the match was the flirtation of Milly with Lovel; and Iris
decided to tell Dr. Lester of this danger, so that Milly should meet her
lover no more. The father alone could save his daughter from
jeopardising her future.

Unfortunately, Dr. Lester returned from Marborough more or less

intoxicated, and after a pretence of eating retired to his bedroom to
sleep off his potations. It was quite useless to appeal to Philip drunk,
as Iris knew well; therefore she was obliged to wait till next
morning, when there might be some chance of getting Philip sober
to take a sensible view of the matter. Milly took no notice of her
father's condition, being well used to his debauches, but spent the
evening in trimming a hat which she designed to wear to church the
next day. Iris sat in the same room, employed with needlework; and
took the opportunity of informing Milly what she intended to do.
There was nothing secretive about Miss Link; she was an open
enemy, and not a snake in the grass; moreover, she hoped by
warning Milly of her decision to make her promise to renounce the
Lovel flirtation.

"Milly," she said, as they worked rapidly, "have you thought of what I
said to you this afternoon?"

"About what?" asked the other carelessly.

"About Mr. Lovel. Will you promise to stop flirting with him?"
"No, I won't!" said Milly flatly; "he amuses me, and I intend to meet
him and talk to him as much as I like. If you choose you can tell
Darcy."

"You know I shan't do that," replied Iris quietly, "and that you are
safe in giving me the permission. But I'll tell your father."

"Pooh! What does that matter? He won't speak to Darcy: he's too
anxious for me to marry the man; I told you that this afternoon."

"He will be very angry," cried Iris in despair.

"Let him be angry!" returned the dutiful daughter; "he can't kill me!"

"O Milly! Milly! Why can't you behave in a more honourable manner?
If you love Mr. Lovel, break off the match with Mr. Herne."

"And let you have your chance!" sneered Milly, tossing her head.
"No, thank you, dear."

"Then stop flirting with Mr. Lovel and be true to your future
husband."

Milly laughed, shook her head, and busied herself with threading a
needle. "My future husband," said she slowly; "h'm! perhaps I won't
marry him after all."

"Then you intend to accept Mr. Lovel?"

"No, I intend to do nothing. But Gran Jimboy read my hand this

afternoon, and she prophesied that I should marry neither."

"What do you mean?" asked Iris sharply. "Have you a third admirer?"

"According to gran I have," said Milly with a shiver; "the third

admirer is Death, my dear. I am to be--murdered!"
Iris rose so quickly that her work rolled on to the floor. She looked at
Milly in a scared sort of way. "Are you out of your mind?" she said
nervously.

"No; I'm only telling you what Gran Jimboy read in my hand. But I
don't believe in palmistry; do you, Iris?"

"No, I don't," said Miss Link contemptuously. "You ought to be

ashamed of yourself, letting Gran Jimboy play on your fears. Did she
say you would die?"

"Yes; that I should be murdered. Ugh!" and Milly shivered again.

"You don't believe such rubbish?"

Miss Lester jumped up and threw the hat she had been trimming on
the sofa. "I don't know," she said, pacing to and fro. "Sometimes I
do; sometimes I don't. I wish you would not talk of death! I hate it!"
Then, after a pause, "I'm going to bed," said she.

Iris arrested her at the door. "Milly, do be sensible, and give up these
wild ideas."

"Mr. Lovel, I suppose?"

"Yes; don't flirt with him any more, and I'll not tell Dr. Lester."

"You can do as you please!" returned Milly loftily. "I'm doing no

harm, and I'll talk to Lucas as much as I please!"

"Lucas! You call him by his first name?"

"When I wish to be nice, I do," replied the girl provokingly; "and he

calls me by mine."

"Milly, you are ruining your life!" said Iris in despair.

"Ah, well; what of it? It's going to be a short one--according to Gran
Jimboy," and before her sister could make a further remark Milly ran
out of the room, with a nervous laugh. Iris resumed her seat, and
again devoted herself to work, but her thoughts were busy with the
ill-disciplined mind of her companion.

Whether it was Milly's attitude towards Herne, or her conduct with

Lovel, or her revelation of the gipsy's prophecy, Iris did not know;
but she felt a premonition of evil, and wondered what she could do
to prevent the occurrence of ill. There was no thought of self in the
desire, for she was genuinely sorry for the fool's paradise in which
Lovel was living. Doubtless he thought that Milly would break with
Herne to marry him; but Iris was assured that her sister was too
fond of money and luxury to do so. Milly had no idea of morality, or
right or wrong, and was quite content to flirt with one man and go
to the altar with the other, without caring for the consequences. Yet
in the complication she had made there lay the elements of tragedy;
and Iris wondered if the gipsy had been clever enough to guess this,
and had prophesied death and danger merely on the possibility of
such result. She was beginning to feel alarmed at the entanglement,
and resolved to put matters straight if she could. Failing the
authority of Lester over his reckless daughter, which was merely
nominal, it yet remained that an explanation and an appeal to Lovel
might induce him to withdraw from the fascinations of Milly, and
leave the village. Then the marriage with Herne might be pressed
on, and under his good influence and care Milly might be sheltered
from the dangers of life which were created by her love of
admiration. This was the only course to pursue, and Iris decided to
take it.

"I'll see Mr. Lovel to-morrow," she said when retiring to bed, "and
appeal to his better nature to go away. Darcy is so much in love with
her that it would break his heart to lose her. Milly must marry him,
and do her best to make him happy. I can do nothing less to show
my love for him. Ah! he does not guess how I worship him! If he
did--alas! alas!" Here Iris broke off her meditations, and
extinguished the light. Then, in the silence and darkness, she wept
quietly over her unreturned love and aching heart. Truly, to a
woman, the burden of unrequited affection is heavy to bear.

Early on Sunday morning Milly received a letter from Darcy, stating

that he would return the next day, as he had concluded his business.
The information gave her no pleasure, as it meant that she would
have to submit to be bored in his company, and would not be able to
see Lucas as often as heretofore. Yet the receipt of the letter gave
her the assurance that she could safely keep her appointment with
Lovel, without being found out; and her hitherto wavering decision
was fixed from that moment. This intention was unknown to Iris else
she might have prevented the meeting.

Milly did not go to church in the morning, but Iris attended at St.
Dunstan's, less for the service than because she desired to see
Lovel. Dr. Lester had been as cross as a bear--the usual result of his
weekly visit to Marborough--and Iris had not dared to complain
about Milly, lest it should raise a domestic storm. The doctor kept to
his own room, Milly amused herself with a novel, and Iris went to
church to see Lovel. He was not present, however, and as she could
not call on him at the Herne Arms, she was obliged to return home
disappointed; and decided to delay her appeal till the next day. The
delay was fatal.

As usual, Milly idled through the long summer hours in a

discontented fashion, keeping out of her father's way as much as
possible. She saw from his conduct that Iris had not fulfilled her
threat of informing him of her vagaries, and said as much.

"No," replied Iris coldly; "I have not complained to your father, as he
has no authority over you. It would be useless."

"I'm glad you see that, dear," rejoined Milly cordially. "I suppose you
intend to speak to Darcy and get me a lecture?"
"I have told you twice that I do not intend to speak to Mr. Herne.
No; it is my intention to ask Mr. Lovel to leave the village."

"Pooh! He won't do that while I'm here.

"If he is an honorable man he will."

Milly shrugged her shoulders. "All I know is that he is a very nice

fellow," she said; "if you want honor and priggishness, go to Darcy."

Iris was too disgusted to reply to this remark, and went to her room
in silence to prepare for evening service. Fearing lest Lovel should
speak with Milly on the way to church, she insisted that the girl
should come with her. Assured that the appointment would be kept
in the Winding Lane, Milly agreed to this readily enough, as she did
not wish to rouse the suspicion of Iris, whom she regarded in the
light of a marplot. So, to church the sisters--as they may be called--
went in the most amiable fashion, and presented an affectionate
exterior for the benefit of the Barnstead gossips.

St. Dunstan's was quite full, for Mr. Chaskin was the preacher, and
his sermons were always worth hearing. He was a tall, well-built
man, with an earnest, clean-shaven face; and as he walked in at the
tail of the choir-boys a suspicion of his former military vocation could
be seen in the swing of his stride. With certain alterations
consequent on the Reformation, he had exchanged the sword for the
cowl, like some warrior of mediaeval times. He was as earnest a
clergyman as he had been a soldier; and had won golden opinions
from one and all since his arrival at Barnstead.

During the earlier part of the service Milly, according to custom,

looked round the church, and prayed with the lips rather than the
heart. In the almost conventual gloom--for the summer twilight
filtered but dimly through the stained-glass of the windows--she
noted her friends and acquaintances, and particularly her lover. He
was seated in a distant aisle near a pillar, but could see her plainly
enough, and several times during the service they exchanged
glances. Miss Clyde was there, in the company of Mrs. Drass, but
being near the front of the building, they could not see Lucas. Had
they been placed so as to observe him, Milly would have been more
discreet in her glances; but, feeling safe from observation, she
indulged in as many as she pleased. If Iris noted her looks, she
made no sign; for she looked at her prayer-book constantly.

Shortly Milly's glances alighted on a strange lady, who was staring at

her steadily. She was a brilliant-looking brunette, not very tall (as
Milly could see when she stood up), and dressed in the height of
fashion. Miss Lester wondered who she could be, and why she
stared at her so hard. After a time she returned the gaze, and the
eyes of the two met. At once the strange lady removed her eyes,
and glanced at Lucas; then looked back to Milly in the most meaning
manner. Indignant and bewildered by this pantomime, Milly grew
crimson, and tried to keep her attention on the music; but whenever
she looked up the lady was glancing in the same way from her to
Lucas and back again. Lovel himself did not see the stranger--at all
events, Milly did not think so; but Mrs. Drass had her eyes on the
brunette, and was doubtless alive with curiosity.

When Mr. Chaskin gave out the text, Milly forgot the strange lady;
she forgot Lucas, and Darcy, and everyone else. The only person she
remembered was Gran Jimboy, for the text was "One shall be taken,
the other left," which was the exact expression used by the gipsy at
the time of the hand-reading on the previous day. Milly face grew
pallid with nervous fear, her heart beat rapidly, and she felt that the
atmosphere was too close to breathe. There seemed to be
something ominous in the coincidence of the gipsy's speech and the
text; and she felt that something was wrong; also, the looks of the
strange lady embarrassed her. So, on the impulse of the moment,
she rose from her seat and left the church with all speed.
 CHAPTER IV.

WHAT HAPPENED ON SUNDAY NIGHT.

At first Iris intended to follow Milly, thinking that she suffered from
some slight indisposition; but recollecting that up to the moment of
leaving the girl had seemed perfectly well, she concluded that it was
merely to escape the sermon Milly had left so hurriedly. For this
reason she kept her seat, until it struck her that the exit might be
designed in order to meet Lovel. However, a glance assured her that
the young man was still in his seat, and showed no intention of
following her sister. The strange lady remained, but of course Iris
had not observed her as Milly had done. Mrs. Drass, in a pew a little
way off, gave a sniff of significance, and glanced at Miss Clyde, but
that lady, seeing that Lucas was listening attentively to the sermon
(she had caught a glimpse of him, and had turned round to look),
paid no attention to the hint. All this passed unperceived by the rest
of the congregation.

Mr. Chaskin invariably limited his discourse to fifteen minutes; and

on this occasion he was even shorter and more pithy than usual. The
service was concluded by eight o'clock, and Lucas was one of the
first to leave the church. At once he was followed by the strange
lady, whom he had not observed, and when Iris emerged from the
porch she found that both had disappeared. Neither was Milly in
sight, so, concluding that she had gone home, Iris prepared to
follow. Shortly, however, she was accosted by Mrs. Drass, who had
left Miss Clyde in order to discover the reason of Milly's exit. To the
suspicious mind of the ex-governess, everything done by the
doctor's daughter was a covert act of insolence against her former
pupil. To such an extent can prejudice distort a naturally liberal
nature.

"Good evening, Miss Link," said Mrs. Drass, puffing and blowing--for
she was very stout, and had made considerable haste to overtake
Iris. "I am so glad to see you. I want to walk home with you and see
your dear pa. He is in, I dare say?"

"He was when I left, Mrs. Drass," replied Iris, who quite understood
what the good lady was aiming at. "Do you not feel well?"

"Not very, my dear. The heart, you know, and shortness of breath. I
thought I would just see Dr. Lester before I drove home with Selina."

"Where is she?" asked Iris, glancing round at the dispersing

congregation.

"Speaking with Mr. Chaskin. She will call for me at your house in half
an hour, so I shall have time to see your pa. By the way, my dear,"
said Mrs. Drass, as they walked slowly onward side by side, "I hope
your sister is not ill?"

"She did not mention that she was ailing," replied Iris, dryly.

"Then why did she leave before the sermon?"

"I do not know, Mrs. Drass. No doubt we shall find her indoors, and
then you can ask her yourself."

"Oh, my dear!" Mrs. Drass exclaimed in a shocked tone, as though

virtuously indignant at the idea of gossiping. "I would not think of
troubling about such a trifle. I simply thought your dear sister was
ill, seeing she left before Mr. Chaskin's sweet discourse; and I had
half a mind to follow with my smelling bottle."

"Very kind of you," said Iris, briefly; and then, as she disliked the
conversation, held her tongue. Mrs. Drass at once began on a fresh
topic.

"Did you see that stranger in church?" she asked--"a handsome

young lady, most beautifully dressed. I wonder who she can be?"

"I did not observe her particularly."

"She looked at Mr. Lovel a great deal," continued Mrs. Drass artfully,
"and at your sister. I was ill-placed for observation, but I turned and
saw their looks."

"I don't understand you," said Iris, on her guard at this coupling of
Milly's name with that of Lovel.

Mrs. Drass became tart at once. "Oh, my love, it is not very difficult
to understand," she said stiffly; "in my opinion, your sister
exchanged so many glances with Mr. Lovel that the strange lady
thought----"

"I don't want to know what she thought, Mrs. Drass. You forget that
my sister is engaged."

"I think it is Milly Lester who forgets that!" cried Mrs. Drass
venomously; "it is really disgraceful the way in which she flirts with
Mr. Lovel!"

"Mrs. Drass!"

"Now, don't be cross with me, my dear," wheezed the fat old lady, as
they stopped at the gate of Poverty Villa. "I only repeat what all the
village talks about. I don't know what Mr. Herne will say to your
sister's conduct! Such a good young man as he is!"

"Here is Dr. Lester," said Iris, cutting short these remarks; and
leaving Mrs. Drass in the company of her stepfather, she retired
hastily in search of Milly. To her surprise, the girl was not in the
house. Iris searched everywhere, and, alarmed by this unexpected
absence, went downstairs with the intention of leaving the house to
look for her. Passing by Dr. Lester's room, the door of which was
ajar, she heard the oily voice of Mrs. Drass accusing Milly of flirting
with Lovel. Although she hated eavesdropping, Iris listened in the
interests of her sister.

"Indeed, my dear doctor, I should advise you to interfere," Mrs.

Drass was saying; "you know how particular Mr. Herne is. If he
learnt too much about Milly----"

"He shall learn nothing," broke in Dr. Lester's harsh voice, "unless
you tell him."

"Excuse me, I never speak of my neighbours' business. This has

nothing to do with me."

"But it has a great deal to do with Miss Clyde."

"I don't understand----" began Mrs. Drass, when the doctor cut her
short with a short and rude laugh.

"Oh, you understand well enough!" he said, contemptuously. "I hear

gossip as well as you do. Miss Clyde wants to marry Lovel, and
cannot do so till Milly is out of the way. In the interest of your friend,
you wish Milly to marry Herne, and so will not tell him of this--
flirtation."

"There is some truth in that," admitted Mrs. Drass, "although you

put it rudely."

"I put it plainly, you mean," said Lester. "You can go away content,
madam, for I shall speak to Milly."

"Poor motherless girl! She needs talking to," sighed Mrs. Drass, and
prepared to take her leave, satisfied in every way with the success of
her mission.
Before searching for Milly, who was yet absent, Iris determined to
speak to her stepfather. The ice had been broken, and it was now
easier to induce him to interfere. When Mrs. Drass took her
departure, which she did almost immediately, Iris entered the
doctor's consulting room at once. Lester already had got out the
brandy bottle and was filling himself a glass. He looked red-eyed and
wrathful, and turned viciously on Iris before she had time to open
her mouth.

"What is this I hear about Milly and Mr. Lovel?" he snarled. "Is her
name to be on the lips of every village gossip? Can't you look after
her?"

"No, I can't. She laughs at me."

"Where is she? I'll take care she doesn't laugh at me!" cried Lester.
"Send her in here at once."

"How can I? She is not yet in."

Lester looked at his watch. "Twenty minutes past eight o'clock!" he

growled; "and you let her gad about at this hour! No doubt she is
with Lovel now!"

"I should not be at all surprised," said Iris, coldly.

"Good Lord! how coolly you speak!" raged the doctor, setting down
his empty glass and filling it again. "Don't you know that if Herne
hears of these things he'll break off the marriage!"

"I shouldn't blame him if he did."

"Rubbish! I tell you, if Milly loses Herne, everything will smash up.
We can't hold out much longer. Herne has promised to pay all we
owe and to lend me money. It all depends on Milly; yet you let her
flirt with Lovel, and run the risk of ruining all. If Chaskin heard about
this Lovel affair, he would tell Herne, and then--curse it!"--the doctor
broke off hastily, and drank another glass of brandy--"I must do
something!"

"You won't do much if you go on taking that!" said Iris pointedly.

"What is that to you, miss? Mind your own business! I shall drink as
much as I please." He filled himself a third glass of brandy. "As for
Lovel, if I catch him I'll trash the life out of him! Spoiling Milly's
chance of a rich husband--I'll kill him before he does that. I shall
lock her up, and you also, you--you----"

Not waiting to hear what he called her, Iris withdrew, sick at heart.
She knew well enough that this was the commencement of a
drinking bout, which would last three or four days. Did Lester meet
his daughter in the company of Lovel while the drunken fit was on
him, he was quite capable of proceeding to personal violence. Iris
left the house hurriedly, with the intention of finding Milly, and
bringing her home lest ill should befall. At that moment, with her
miserable home, the burden of Milly's follies, and her own aching
heart, the poor girl felt thoroughly ill and wretched.

On leaving Poverty Villa, she turned her steps towards the main
street of the village, and wondered where she would find Milly. It
was yet light, a kind of luminous twilight, with a star-sprinkled
heaven, and a gentle breeze sighing amid the trees. Few people
were about, as it was now about nine o'clock, and the majority of
Barnstead folk were within doors, lingering over their suppers. Iris
paced slowly along, her head aching with nervous pain, and her
heart full of anxiety. When she arrived in the square where St.
Dunstan's Church was situated she paused in utter helplessness, for
she knew not in which direction to look for the truant; nor for very
shame could she ask any of the passers-by if they had seen the girl.
For the moment she was completely at a loss what to do.

Unexpectedly the chimes began to ring, and the clock of St.

Dunstan's struck nine with slow and ponderous strokes. As Iris
counted them idly, she fancied she heard the sharp sound of a
distant shot, and, for the moment wondered who could be shooting
at that late hour. But the deep tone of the church bell striking the
hour confused her, and hearing no more shots she thought that she
must have been dreaming. After a pause she pursued her way, and
turned homeward.

It struck Iris that Milly might have met Lovel by appointment, in

which case the meeting, to elude observation, would undoubtedly
take place on the outskirts of the village. Iris therefore made a
detour, and walked homeward round by the common and through
the sparse woods which fringed the town. But all to no purpose; not
a sign of Milly or of anyone else could she see, and it was with a
sigh that she reentered Barnstead streets on her way to the villa. As
she passed the Herne Arms, she saw a carriage drive off, and as it
whirled past her on the road to Marborough, she noted that it was
occupied by a lady. However, as she did not recognize the face--
which she saw indistinctly in the twilight--she took no further note of
the incident. In a few moments she reached home, and was met at
the door by Eliza in a great state of alarm.

"Oh, miss, I am glad you've come," cried the servant. "Your pa's run
out like a raging bull, and I was feared lest he could 'urt you."

"I did not meet him," replied Iris, with a chill feeling in her heart. "Is
Milly inside?"

"No, mum; that's why I am feared. Your pa was screeching out

something about you and Miss Milly, an' I did believe as he was
wanting to murder you both."

"Nonsense!" cried Iris irritably, as she entered the dining-room. "Dr.

Lester is not well, and I daresay Miss Milly will be back soon. She--
she has gone to see some friends," finished Iris, thinking she must
make some excuse.
"Well, I 'ope she's safe, miss," said Eliza, ominously, "for if she
meets her pa he'll hurt 'er. Jus' like a mad lion he were, miss."

When the servant withdrew Iris sat down and tried to eat; but all in
vain. The excitement and trouble of the evening were too much for
her, and she could only swallow a glass of wine and water. Eliza was
informed that she might go to bed, and Iris sat up far into the night
waiting for the return of Milly. Ten, eleven and twelve o'clock struck;
still the girl did not appear, and Iris became terrified. Such a thing
had never happened before; and she felt sure that some accident
had occurred. Several times she went to the door, but saw no one.
At twelve she ventured as far as the gate, and then in the darkness
she heard the tramp of feet, and saw several men advancing,
bearing something between them. In front walked a man alone.

"Father!" cried Iris, throwing open the gate. "Milly!"

"Hush!" said the grave voice of Mr. Chaskin. "It is I, Miss Link. There
has been an--an accident. Your sister is--dead!"

CHAPTER V.

PAUL MEXTON, JOURNALIST.

Barnstead was provided with a new sensation, and that of the most
extreme kind. The beauty of the village--for so Milly was accounted--
had been murdered by some unknown person, and everyone was
excited by the tragedy. Far and wide the rumour spread, gaining
details more or less truthful as it slipped from tongue to tongue,
until by noon of the next day it reached Marborough. From the
streets it penetrated into the office of the "Tory Times," which, as its
name denotes, is an old and long-established newspaper of the
south of England; and so became known to Paul Mexton, who was
the chief reporter of the journal. The news appealed to him more
than it did to the majority of the public.

In the first place, it roused his journalistic instincts, as eminently

satisfactory "copy" for the columns of the paper; in the second, he
was personally acquainted with the Lester family, and particularly
with Iris. The late Mr. Link had been a solicitor in Marborough, and in
that town Iris had been born, and had lived for seventeen years,
when, her father dying, her mother had married Dr. Lester and had
removed to Barnstead. The second Mrs. Lester did not live long after
her foolish second marriage, and when she died Iris was left to look
after Milly and the miserable domestic affairs of Poverty Villa. But all
this has been set forth before, and the main point now is the
acquaintance of Mexton with Iris Link.

They had been boy and girl together, and Paul had been like a
brother to Iris for many years. Twice or thrice a month he was
accustomed to ride over to Barnstead, when permitted by his
journalistic duties; and at one time Iris thought that their youthful
friendship might develop into the warmer feeling of love. But, as has
before been stated, she lost her heart to Herne, and later on Paul
confessed to her that he was in love with a Polish lady who for some
months previously had given violin recitals in the Marborough Town
Hall. Therefore, up to the present Paul and Iris were simply good
friends and nothing more.

Paul valued his friendship with Miss Link, as he was ambitious and
she sympathised with his aims and aspirations. He wished to make a
name in London as a novelist, to live in the metropolis, and to mix
with the literary society of the day. To Iris he told all his dreams and
schemes and successes and failures; and in her turn Iris consulted
him about her domestic worries, the eccentricities of Dr. Lester, and
the trials she experienced with Milly and her lovers. Paul, therefore,
was well acquainted with the events which had preceded the
tragedy; and now that the tragedy itself had taken place he was
hardly surprised by its occurrence.

"I knew Milly would get herself into trouble, poor girl!" he thought
on hearing the news; "but I hardly expected her follies would result
in her murder. I wonder who killed her, and what was the motive for
the crime? By Jove! I'll ride over and see Iris; she needs a friend just
now, and she can give me all details for the paper."

No sooner had Paul made up his mind to this course than he saw the
editor, and requested permission to go over to Barnstead. It was
accorded at once, and, knowing Mexton's ready pen, the editor
anticipated an unusually interesting account of the crime, to be in
the next day's issue of the "Tory Times." Prompt and rapid in his
actions as a war correspondent, Paul was on the road to Barnstead
within an hour of receiving the intelligence of the murder. But the
police, advised by telegram, were beforehand with him, and he
found the inspector--Drek was his name--investigating the matter
when he arrived at Poverty Villa.

Drek was in the untidy garden talking to a policeman when Paul rode
up, and he eyed the young man in anything but a pleasant manner
when he dismounted. The inspector was an alert but somewhat sour
man, who had no great love for press or pressman; and he distinctly
resented the prompt arrival of Mexton on the scene. With a frown he
looked at the keen and handsome face of the young man, and
nodded curtly in response to his greeting.

"Where the corpse is there gather the vultures," said Drek, who
dealt at times in proverbs.

"Are you talking of the police, Mr. Inspector?" asked Paul, smiling.

"No, sir; I talk of the Fourth Estate, of you confounded gabblers of

the press. It is my business to investigate crimes like these; but it is
not yours to spread any discoveries all over the country, and put the
criminal on his guard."

"Oh! then you have some inkling of who killed Miss Lester?"

"No, sir; up till now I have not gained the slightest clue."

"Then why do you say that the criminal is a man?" said Paul
shrewdly. "The assassin may be a woman, for all you know."

"Women don't fire pistols as a rule."

"The New Woman does," retorted Mexton. "So the poor girl was
shot?"

"Right through the brain--must have been killed instantly."

"Where did the murder take place?"

"In the lower part of the Winding Lane."

"About what time?"

"I don't know yet. How should I know?" replied Drek with a vexed
air. "Now, look here, Mr. Mexton; I'm not going to answer any more
questions. You'll put all I say in your paper."

"I'll keep out anything you wish, Mr. Inspector," said Paul, who saw
the necessity of conciliating the man; "and, as a matter of fact, I am
here not so much to get copy as to see Miss Link."

"Why do you wish to see Miss Link?" asked the inspector

suspiciously.

"For the very natural reason that she is in trouble, and that I am her
oldest friend. You don't object to my seeing her?"
"She'll object herself," replied Drek grimly. "At present she shut
herself up in her room and refuses to see anyone."

"What about Dr. Lester?"

"Oh!"--Drek shrugged his shoulders--"the doctor is in his consulting-

room--drinking!"

"What does he say about the murder?"

"Nothing. I can get no sense out of him; the man's brain is upset."

"I don't wonder at it," rejoined Paul drily; "the tragic death of his
daughter is quite enough to upset it. Is the--the--body in the
house?"

"No; it has been taken to the Herne Arms for the inquest."

Mexton nodded, and brushed past the inspector on his way to the
house. "I'll try and see Miss Link." he said quickly. "Poor girl, she will
need some comfort. You have absolutely no clue?" he asked looking
back.

"Absolutely none," returned Drek disconsolately. "The girl was found

dead by Mr. Chaskin about midnight. I say, Mexton----"

"Well," said Paul impatiently, his hand on the doorknob.

"Tell me what Miss Link tells you."

"She may tell me nothing, Drek. However, I'll get all I can out of her,
and do my best to aid you to catch the murderer of poor Milly Lester.
And you?"

"I intend to question the servant," said Drek. "It seems she knows
something; at least, she hinted as much to Warner here," and he
indicated the policeman with a nod.
"H'm!" said Paul slowly. "So Eliza knows something. Drek, you tell
me all that you get out of the servant, and I'll reveal the result of my
examination of the mistress. Let us work together."

"I'm quite agreeable," said Drek, who knew the keen intelligence of
Mexton, "but you must not put too much in your paper."

"You shall see everything in proof," cried Paul, and with a nod he
vanished into the house.

There was nobody in the drawing-room or dining-room when Mexton

entered; therefore he looked into the doctor's consulting-room,
where he found the wretched Lester half-intoxicated, with the
brandy bottle before him. Indignant at the man's condition at such a
time, Paul walked over to the table, seized the bottle, and threw it
out of the window. In sheer amazement Lester stared blankly at
him, holding a glass of brandy in his shaking hand.

"What--what did you do that for?" he asked thickly.

"To prevent you making a beast of yourself," replied the young man
sharply. "Have you no sense of shame, man? Your daughter is lying
dead--murdered--and yet you sit drinking here as though nothing
had occurred. Shame, Dr. Lester! Shame!"

The drunkard listened vacantly to this speech, and mechanically

raised the glass he held to his lips. In a moment Paul had dashed it
out of his hand, and put himself on the defensive for the attack
which he expected the creature to make on him. In place of doing
so, and asserting some little manhood, the doctor bowed his
shameful face on his hands, and began to weep in a maudlin
manner.

"Oh, dear! oh, dear! that I should be treated like this in my own
house! Poor Milly dead, and I denied any comfort."
"You won't get much comfort out of the brandy bottle," said Paul
contemptuously. "Pull yourself together, Dr. Lester, and aid me."

"Aid you--in what?" asked Lester confusedly.

"In discovering who killed your daughter."

The doctor wrung his hands in a helpless sort of manner. "No chance
of that," said he; "no chance of that."

"Why? Do you think the murderer has got clean away?"

To the journalist's surprise, Lester put the same question to him as

he had put to Drek. "How do you know the criminal is a man?"
asked the doctor.

"I did not say so."

"You said murderer; if you had ascribed the crime to a woman you
would have used the more correct word, murderess."

"I think not, doctor; I am no purist. But what do you mean by such a
speech, sir? Do you know who killed your daughter?"

"No!" Lester looked confused. "Good Lord, Mexton! how should I

know?" he burst out. "If I did--if I did----"

"Well?" cried Mexton, impatiently, "if you did----?"

"I want some more brandy," said Lester, with a vacant look.

Paul was about to reply with some sharpness when he felt a light
touch on his arm. It was Iris who had attracted his attention; and
she had just entered quietly by the door. Her face was pallid as that
of a corpse, her eyes were red and swollen with weeping, and she
looked not at Mexton, but at the miserable creature who was her
step-father. The expression in her eyes was one of mingled terror
and repugnance.
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