urgent just at this moment, as I suppose you know."

"I wish you had come," said the other; "it would have looked well, and
pleased the rest of the directors. There has been some queer
business--some of the books abstracted or destroyed, we can't tell
which, and no means of knowing how we stand."

"Good Heavens!" said Phil, "to cover that fellow's retreat."

"It you mean Brown, it was not he. They were all there safe enough after
he was gone; somebody must have got in by night and made off with them,
some one that knew all about the place; the watchman saw a light, but
that's all. It's supposed there must have been something compromising
others besides Brown. He could not have cheated the company to such an
extent by himself."

"Good Heavens!" cried Phil again in natural horror; "I wish I had
followed my impulse and gone up to town straight: but it was very vague
what was in the papers; I hoped it might not have been our place at all.
And I say, Stanfield--who's the fellow they suspect?" Elinor had
disengaged herself from Compton's arm; she perceived vaguely that the
stranger paused before he replied, and that Phil, facing him with a
certain square attitude of opposition which affected her imagination
vaguely, though she did not understand why--was waiting with keen
attention for his reply. She said, a little oppressed by the situation,
"Phil, perhaps I had better go."

"Don't go," he said; "there's nothing secret to say. If there's anyone
suspected it must very soon be known."

"It's difficult to say who is suspected," said the stranger, confused.
"I don't know that there's much evidence. You've been in Scotland?"

"Yes, till the other day, when I came down here to see----" He paused
and turned upon Elinor a look which gave the girl the most curious
incomprehensible pang. It was a look of love; but, oh! heaven, was it a
look called up that the other man might see? He took her hand in his,
and said lightly yet tenderly, "Let's see, what day was it? the sixth,
wasn't it the sixth, Nell?"

A flood of conflicting thoughts poured through Elinor's mind. What did
it mean? It was yesterday, she was about to say, but something stopped
her, something in Phil's eye--in the touch of his hand. There was
something warning, almost threatening, in his eye. Stand by me; mind you
don't contradict me; say what I say. All these things which he had
repeated again and again were said once more in the look he gave her.
"Yes," she sa