or there had come to her a recollection of that
moment when, as she had said, she fancied she heard Lady Katharine's
door open and shut in the night when all the house was still.

"And after that?" repeated Cleek, driving the question home.

"How should I know?" she gave back, in something akin to panic. "How
could I? We do not sleep together. But"--with sudden brightening--"this
I do know, however: the bracelet was still on her wrist and the scent
globe still attached to it, even then. I saw it with my own eyes."

"A clear proof that, as the capsule was dropped after that time, she
left the house last night without your knowledge, Miss Lorne."

"I can't believe it; I will not believe it!" protested Ailsa loyally. "I
know that she did not! I _know_!"

"How?"

"It is likely that you have not heard it, but Katharine is an
accomplished violoncellist, Mr. Cleek. She loves her instrument, and in
times of sorrow or distress she flies to it for comfort, and plays and
plays until her nerves are soothed. Last night, after she left me, I
heard her playing in her room."

"For long?"

"No. Of a sudden something went snap and the music ceased. She opened
her door and called across the passage to me: 'Ailsa, pray for me. I am
so wretched, so abandoned by fortune, that even the solace of my 'cello
is denied me. I have broken the A-string and have not another in the
house. Good-night, dear. I wish I could break the String of Life as
easily!' After that she closed and locked the door, and I heard her go
to bed."

_The A-string!_

Cleek turned away his head and took his chin between his thumb and
forefinger. _The A-string!_ And it was with a noose of catgut that the
Count de Louvisan had been strangled!

"I'll not believe that she left the house," went on Miss Lorne. "She is
the soul of honour, the very embodiment of truth, and she told me
herself that she 'slept like a log until morning.' If she had gone out
after I left her, after I fell asleep----"

"It could be proved and proved easily," interposed Cleek. "The night was
moist and foggy, the roads were wet and muddy. Her clothes, the hem of
her skirt, the state of her shoes---- But I will not ask you to play
the spy upon your friend, Miss Lorne."

"Nor would I do it!" she flashed back spiritedly; then stopped and gave
a little excited exclamation and laid a shaking hand upon Cleek's
sleeve. An automobile had swung suddenly into view in the drive leading
up from the ga