I Sanstead House unostentatiously, setting off on the long drive. My luggage, I gathered, was to me to the station in a cart. I was to Providence for the small that the boys were in their and unable to ask me questions. Augustus Beckford alone would have the of my in a manner calculated to my hair.

It was a morning. The sky was an blue, and a fresh was in from the sea. I think that something of the of must have me, for the with which I had started my walk left me, and I myself and full of schemes.

Why should I from the struggle? Why should I give in to Smooth Sam in this way? The memory of that came to me with a effect. I would him that I was still a in the game. If the house was closed to me, was there not the 'Feathers'? I in there, and his movements unseen.

I stopped on the inn, and was on the point of entering and taking up my position at once, when it to me that this would be a false move. It was possible that Sam would not take my for so as I assumed. It was Sam's way to do a thing thoroughly, and the was that, if he did not actually come to see me off, he would at least make at the station to out if I had gone. I walked on.

He was not at the station. Nor did he arrive in the with my trunk. But I was to nothing. I a ticket for London, and the London train. It had been my to it at Guildford and catch an train to Stanstead; but it to me, on reflection, that this was unnecessary. There was no of Sam making any move in the of the Nugget until the day. I take my time about returning.

I the night in London, and at Sanstead by an early train with a suit-case containing, among other things, a Browning pistol. I was a little of this purchase. To the Buck MacGinnis type of man, I suppose, a pistol is as a as a pair of shoes, but I as I entered the gun-shop. If it had been Buck with I was about to deal, I should have less self-conscious. But there was something about Sam which pistols ridiculous.

My act, after a room at the and my suit-case, was to walk to the school. Before doing anything else, I I must see Audrey and tell her the in the case of Smooth Sam. If she were on her guard, my might not be needed. But her present of trust in him was fatal.

A school, when the boys are away, is a place. The air of the grounds, as I through the trees, was almost eerie. A over everything, as if the place had been under a spell. Never had I been so with the of Sanstead House. Anything might in this spot, and the world would go on its way in ignorance. It was with that, as I nearer the house, I of the wire of the telephone among the trees above my head. It had a practical, look.

A tradesman's up the drive and the of the house. This reminder, also, of the world was pleasant. But I not myself of the that the of the place was sinister. I it to the that I was a in an enemy's country. I had to see without being seen. I did not that Johnson, grocer, who had just passed in his cart, anything with the atmosphere. It was for me by my own attitude.

Of Audrey and Ogden there were no signs. That they were out in the this I took for granted; but I not make an search. Already I had come nearer to the house than was prudent.

My the telephone wire again and an idea came to me. I would call her up from the and ask her to meet me. There was the that the call would be answered by Smooth Sam, but it was not great. Sam, unless he had off his role of completely—which would be the artist that he was—would be in the housekeeper's room, and the of the telephone, which was in the study, would not to him.

I a moment when dinner was likely to be over and Audrey might be to be in the drawing-room.

I had her movements correctly. It was her voice that answered the call.

'This is Peter Burns speaking.'

There was a pause she replied. When she did, her voice was cold.

'Yes?'

'I want to speak to you on a of urgent importance.'

'Well?'

'I can't do it through the telephone. Will you meet me in an hour's time at the gate?'

'Where are you speaking from?'

'The "Feathers". I am there.'

'I you were in London.'

'I came back. Will you meet me?'

She hesitated.

'Why?'

'Because I have something to say to you—important to you.'

There was another pause.

'Very well.'

'In an hour, then. Is Ogden Ford in bed?'

'Yes.'

'Is his door locked?'

'No.'

'Then lock it and the key with you.'

'Why?'

'I will tell you when we meet.'

'I will it.'

'Thank you. Good-bye.'

I up the and set out at once for the school.

She was waiting in the road, a small, in the darkness.

'Is that you—Peter?'

Her voice had at the name, as if at some obstacle. It was a thing, but, in my present mood, it me.

'I'm I'm late. I won't keep you long. Shall we walk the road? You may not have been followed, but it is as well to be on the safe side.'

'Followed? I don't understand.'

We walked a and halted.

'Who would me?'

'A very person of the name of Smooth Sam Fisher.'

'Smooth Sam Fisher?'

'Better to you as White.'

'I don't understand.'

'I should be if you did. I asked you to meet me here so that I make you understand. The man who as a Pinkerton's detective, and is in the house to help you take of Ogden Ford, is Smooth Sam Fisher, a professional kidnapper.'

'But—but—'

'But what proof have I? Was that what you were going to say? None. But I had the from the man himself. He told me in the train that night going to London.'

She spoke quickly. I from her that she she had a in my story.

'Why did he tell you?'

'Because he needed me as an accomplice. He wanted my help. It was I who got Ogden away that day. Sam me money and to him, telling him how to away from the and where to go, and he gathered—correctly—that I was in the same line of as himself. He a partnership which I was unable to accept.'

'Why?'

'Our objects were different. My in Ogden was not to a ransom.'

She out at me in an manner. Till now she had so and asked her questions with such a of that the me.

'Oh, I know what your was. There is no need to that. Isn't there any to which a man who thinks himself in love won't stoop? I you told you were doing something and chivalrous? A woman of her can a man into she pleases, and, just she him, he thinks himself a of knight-errant. I she told you that he had ill-treated her and didn't her higher self, and all that of thing? She looked at you with those big of hers—I can see her—and drooped, and cried, till you were to do anything she asked you.'

'Whom do you mean?'

'Mrs Ford, of course. The woman who sent you here to Ogden.

The woman who you that letter.'

'She did not that letter. But mind that. The why I wanted you to come here was to you against Sam Fisher. That was all. If there is any way in which I can help you, send for me. If you like, I will come and at the house till Mr Abney returns.'

Before the were out of my mouth, I saw that I had a mistake. The of her mind was and belief, and my offer the scale.

'No, thank you,' she said curtly.

'You don't trust me?'

'Why should I? White may or may not be Sam Fisher. I shall be on my guard, and I thank you for telling me. But why should I trust you? It all together. You told me you were to be married. You come here on an which no man would for a woman, and a woman with he was very much in love. There is that letter, you to the boy. I know what a man will do for a woman he is of. Why should I trust you?'

'There is this. You that I had the opportunity to Ogden if I had wanted to. I had got him away to London. But I him back. I did it you had told me what it meant to you.'

She hesitated, but only for an instant. Suspicion was too for her.

'I don't you. You him this man you call Fisher got to know of your plans. Why should you have done it of me? Why should you have put my Mrs Ford's? I am nothing to you.'

For a moment a me to away all restraint, to out the that like in my brain, to make her understand, the cost, my her. But the of my to Cynthia me. That had been the step. If I was to a of self-respect I must be silent.

'Very well,' I said, 'good night.' And I to go.

'Peter!'

There was something in her voice which me round, thrilling, despite my resolution.

'Are you going?'

Weakness would now be my undoing. I myself and answered abruptly.

'I have said all I came to say. Good night.'

I once more and walked off the village. I came near to running. I was in the mood when alone can save a man. She did not speak again, and soon I was out of danger, on through the darkness, the of her voice.

The light from the of the 'Feathers', was the only that the of the Market Square. As I approached, a man came out and stopped in the entrance to light a cigar. His was me as he to protect the match from the breeze, but something in his familiar.

I had only a of him as he himself and walked out of the of light into the Square, but it was enough.

It was my much-enduring acquaintance, Mr Buck MacGinnis.