she knew it and he listened, not
interrupting, until she had finished.

"Mordon dead, eh? That's bad. But how on earth are they going to explain
it? I suppose," he said with a smile, "you didn't write a letter saying
that you were going to run away with the chauffeur?"

She sat up at this.

"I did write a letter," she said slowly. "It wasn't a real letter, it
was in a story which Jean was dictating."

She closed her eyes.

"How awful," she said. "I can't believe it even now."

"Tell me about the story," said the man quickly.

"It was a story she was writing for a London magazine, and her wrist
hurt, and I wrote it down as she dictated. Only about three pages, but
one of the pages was a letter supposed to have been written by the
heroine saying that she was going away, as she loved somebody who was
beneath her socially."

"Good God!" said Marcus, genuinely shocked. "Did Jean do that?"

He seemed absolutely crushed by the realisation of Jean Briggerland's
deed, and he did not speak again for a long time.

"I'm glad I know," he said at last.

"Do you really think that all this time she has been trying to kill me?"

He nodded.

"She has used everybody, even me," he said bitterly. "I don't want you
to think badly of me, Mrs. Meredith, but I'm going to tell you the
truth. I'd provisioned this little yacht to-day for a twelve hundred
mile trip, and you were to be my companion."

"I?" she said incredulously.

"It was Jean's idea, really, though I think she must have altered her
view, or thought I had forgotten all she suggested. I intended taking
you out to sea and keeping you out there until you agreed----" he shook
his head. "I don't think I could have done it really," he said, speaking
half to himself. "I'm not really built for a conspirator. None of that
rough stuff ever appealed to me. Well, I didn't try, anyway."

"No, Mr. Stepney," she said quietly, "and I don't think, if you had, you
would have succeeded."

He was in his frankest mood, and startled her later when he told her of
his profession, without attempting to excuse or minimise the method by
which he earned his livelihood.

"I was in a pretty bad way, and I thought there was easy money coming,
and that rather tempted me," he said. "I know you will think I am a
despicable cad, but you can't think too badly of me, really."

He surveyed the shore. Ahead of them the green tongue of Cap Martin
jutted out into the sea.

"I think I'll take you t