e asked anxiously. "It couldn't have been Jaggs."

"Oh no," smiled Jean, "it couldn't have been Jaggs. I think I'll go to
bed."

She did not expect to sleep. For the first time in her extraordinary
life fear had come to her, and she had shivered on the very edge of the
abyss. She felt the shudder she could not repress and shook herself
impatiently. Then she extinguished the light and went to the window and
looked out. Somewhere there in the darkness she knew her enemy was
hidden, and again that sense of apprehension swept over her.

"I'm losing my nerve," she murmured.

It was extraordinary to Lydia Meredith that the girl showed no sign of
her night's adventure when she came in to breakfast on the following
morning. She looked bright. Her eyes were clear and her delicate irony
as pointed as though she had slept the clock round.

Lydia did not swim that day, and Mr. Stepney had his journey out to Cap
Martin in vain. Nor was she inclined to go back with him to Monte Carlo
to the Casino in the afternoon, and Mr. Stepney began to realise that he
was wasting valuable time.

Jean found her scribbling in the garden and Lydia made no secret of the
task she was undertaking.

"Making your will? What a grisly idea?" she said as she put down the cup
of tea she had carried out to the girl.

"Isn't it," said Lydia with a grimace. "It is the most worrying
business, too, Jean. There is nobody I want to leave money to except you
and Mr. Glover."

"For heaven's sake don't leave me any or Jack will think I am conspiring
to bring about your untimely end," said Jean. "Why make a will at all?"

There was no need for her to ask that, but she was curious to discover
what reply the girl would make, and to her surprise Lydia fenced with
the question.

"It is done in all the best circles," she said good-humouredly. "And,
Jean, I'm not interested in a single public institution! I don't know by
title the name of any home for dogs, and I shouldn't be at all anxious
to leave my money to one even if I did."

"Then you'd better leave it to Jack Glover," said the girl, "or to the
Lifeboat Institution."

Lydia threw down her pencil in disgust.

"Fancy making one's will on a beautiful day like this, and giving
instructions as to where one should be buried. Brrr! Jean," she asked
suddenly, "was it Mr. Jaggs you saw in the wood?"

Jean shook her head.

"I saw nobody," she said. "I went in to look for the burglar; the
excitement must hav