he
descended swiftly, and away into the park by yet another path, used
almost exclusively by the servants and the postman, down to a gate which
led out into the high road to Perth by one of the farms on the estate,
the one known as the Bervie.

As she was about to pass through the small swing gate, she heard a voice
which she recognized exclaim:

"Miss Ranscomb! I have to apologize!" And from the dark shadow a rather
tall man emerged and barred her path.

"I daresay you will think this all very mysterious," he went on,
laughing lightly. "But I do hope I have not inconvenienced you. If so,
pray accept my deepest apologies. Will you?"

"Not at all," the girl replied, though somewhat taken aback by the
suddenness of the encounter. The man spoke slowly and with evident
refinement. His voice was the same she had heard at Nice on that
memorable night of gaiety. She recognized it instantly.

As he stood before her, his countenance became revealed in the
moonlight, and she saw a well-moulded, strongly-marked face, with a pair
of dark, penetrating eyes, set a little too close perhaps, but denoting
strong will and keen intelligence.

"Yes," he laughed. "Look at me well, Miss Ranscomb. I am the white
cavalier whom you last saw disguised by a black velvet mask. Look at me
again, because perhaps you may wish to recognize me later on."

"And you are still Mr. X--eh?" asked the girl, who had halted, and was
gazing upon his rather striking face.

"Still the same," he said, smiling. "Or you may call me Brown, Jones, or
Robinson--or any of the other saints' names if you prefer."

"You have been very kind to me. Surely I may know your real name?"

"No, Miss Ranscomb. For certain very important reasons I do not wish to
disclose it. Pardon me--will you not? I ask that favour of you."

"But will you not satisfy my curiosity?"

"At my personal risk? No. I do not think you would wish me to do
that--eh?" he asked in a tone of mild reproof.

Then he went on:

"I'm awfully sorry I could not approach you openly. In London I found
out that you were up here, so I thought it best to see you in secret.
You know why I have come to you, Miss Ranscomb--eh?"

"On behalf of Mr. Henfrey."

"Yes. He is still in hiding. It has been impossible--through force of
circumstances--for him to send you further messages."

"Where is he? I want to see him."

"Have patience, Miss Ranscomb, and I will arrange a meeting between
you."

"But why do