one of the long windows, which she unbolted
and flung open, expecting to hear the shrill whir of the burglar-alarm,
which, every night, Hill switched on before retiring.

"My dear little girl!" exclaimed the man, smiling as he strolled
leisurely across to her with a cool, perfect unconcern which showed how
completely he was master, "why create such a beastly draught? Nothing
will happen, for I've already seen to those wires."

"You're a thief!" she cried, drawing herself up angrily. "I shall go
straight to my father and tell him at once."

"You are at perfect liberty to act exactly as you choose," was
Flockart's answer, as he bowed before her with irritating mock
politeness. "But before you go, pray allow me to finish these most
interesting documents, some of which, I believe, are in your very neat
handwriting."

"My father's business is his own alone, and you have no right whatever
to pry into it. I thought you were posing as his friend!" she cried in
bitter protest, as she stood with both her hands clenched.

"I am his friend," he declared. "Some day, Gabrielle, you will know the
truth of how near he is to disaster, and how I am risking much in an
endeavour to save him."

"I don't believe you!" she exclaimed in undisguised disgust. "In your
heart there is not one single spark of sympathy with him in his
affliction or with me in my ghastly position!"

"Your position is only your own seeking, my dear child," was his cold
response. "I gave you full warning long ago. You can't deny that."

"You conspired with Lady Heyburn against me!" she cried. "I have
discovered more about it than you think; and I now openly defy you, Mr.
Flockart. Please understand that."

"Good!" he replied, still unruffled. "I quite understand. You will
pardon my resuming, won't you?" And walking back to the open safe, he
drew forth a small bundle of papers from a drawer. Then he threw himself
into a leather arm-chair, and proceeded to untie the tape and examine
the documents one by one, as though in eager search of something.

"Though Lady Heyburn may be your friend, I am quite sure even she would
never for a moment countenance such a dastardly action as this!" cried
the girl, crimsoning in anger. "You come here, accept my father's
hospitality, and make pretence of being his friend and adviser; yet you
are conspiring against him, as you have done against myself!"

"So far as you yourself are concerned, my dear Gabrielle," he laughed,
wi