t come to the real object of this interview.

"Why do you wish that Mr. Andrew were here?" Jeanne asked. "What could
he do for you that Mr. Cecil could not?"

A strange look filled the girl's eyes.

"I think," she said, "that I would not go to Mr. Cecil whatever might
betide, but there is a matter--"

She hesitated again. Jeanne looked at her thoughtfully.

"You have something on your mind, I think, Miss Caynsard," she said.
"Can I help you? Do you wish to tell me about it?"

The girl seemed to have made up her mind. She was standing quite close
to Jeanne now, and she spoke without hesitation.

"You remember the young lord," she said, "of whom there has been so
much in the papers lately? He was staying at the Red Hall when you
were, and is supposed to have left for London early one morning and
disappeared."

"Lord Ronald Engleton," Jeanne said. "Yes, I know all about that, of
course."

"Sometimes," Kate said slowly, "I have had strange thoughts about him.
Mr. Cecil and the other man, Major Forrest they call him, are still at
the Hall, and the servants say that they do little but drink and swear
at one another. I wonder sometimes why they are there, and why Mr.
Andrew stays away."

Jeanne leaned a little forward in her chair. Something in the other's
words had interested her.

"There is something," she said, "behind in your thoughts. What is it?"

The girl was silent for a moment.

"To-night," she said, "if you have the courage to come with me, I will
show you what I mean."

CHAPTER XIII

"I am afraid," Jeanne declared, "that I cannot go on. I have not the
eyes of a cat. I cannot see one step before me."

Her companion laughed softly as she turned round.

"I forgot," she said. "You are town bred. To us the darkness is
nothing. Do not be afraid. I know the way, every inch of it. Give me
your hand."

"But I cannot see at all," Jeanne declared. "How far is this place?"

"Less than a mile," Kate answered. "Trust to me. I will see that
nothing happens to you. Hold my hand tightly, like that. Now come."

Jeanne reluctantly trusted herself to her companion's guidance. They
made their way down the rough road which led from the home of the
Caynsards, half cottage, half farmhouse, to the lane at the bottom.
There was no moon, and though the wind was blowing hard, the sky seemed
everywhere covered with black clouds. When Kate opened the wooden gate
which led on to the marshes, Jeanne stopped short.