Mr. Shuttleworth," I replied, somewhat surprised
at his manner.

"Well, you recollect our conversation on the last occasion you were
here?" he said. "You remember what I told you?"

"I remember that we spoke of Miss Sylvia," I exclaimed, "and that you
refused to satisfy my curiosity."

"I refused, because I am not permitted," was his calm rejoinder.

"Since I saw you," I said, "a dastardly attempt has been made upon my
life. I was enticed to an untenanted house in Bayswater, and after a
cheque for a thousand pounds had been obtained from me by a trick, I
narrowly escaped death by a devilish device. My grave, I afterwards
found, was already prepared."

"Is this a fact!" he gasped.

"It is. I was rescued--by Sylvia herself."

He was silent, drawing hard at his pipe, deep in thought.

"The names of the two men who made the dastardly attempt upon me were
Reckitt and Forbes--friends of Sylvia Pennington," I went on.

He nodded. Then, removing his pipe, exclaimed--

"Yes. I understand. But did I not warn you?"

"You did. But, to be frank, Mr. Shuttleworth, I really did not follow
you then. Neither do I now."

"Have I not told you, my dear sir, that I possess certain knowledge
under vow of absolute secrecy--knowledge which it is not permitted to
me, as a servant of God, to divulge."

"But surely if you knew that assassination was contemplated, it was
your duty to warn me."

"I did--but you took no heed," he declared. "Sylvia warned you also,
when you met in Gardone, and yet you refused to take her advice and go
into hiding!"

"But why should an innocent, law-abiding, inoffensive man be compelled
to hide himself like a fugitive from justice?" I protested.

"Who can fathom human enmity, or the ingenious cunning of the
evil-doer?" asked the grey-faced rector quite calmly. "Have you never
stopped to wonder at the marvellous subtlety of human wickedness?"

"Those men are veritable fiends," I cried. "Yet why have I aroused
their animosity? If you know so much concerning them, Mr.
Shuttleworth, don't you think that it is your duty to protect your
fellow-creatures?--to make it your business to inform the police?" I
added.

"Probably it is," he said reflectively. "But there are times when
even the performance of one's duty may be injudicious."

"Surely it is not injudicious to expose the methods of such
blackguards!" I cried.

"Pardon me," he said. "I am compelled to differ with that opinion.
Were you in pos