house, hunting for you. There was not a trace of you
anywhere--and at last, in a panic, I rushed from the house and flew for
my very life. But there was no getting away so easily as all that.
Lights were shining, men were coming, the hue and cry had begun. I could
not go forward; I dared not go back. I remembered the old hollow tree
where we used to play in our kiddy days, you and I. I ran to that and
got inside of it--and I was there through all that followed. I was found
in time, and it might have ended badly for me but for my father's
friend, Mr. Narkom, and a French detective--a muff of a fellow named De
Lesparre. It didn't, however. I got off scot free, thanking God that no
suspicion pointed your way, and telling myself that you had not left so
much as one hair from the ermine cloak you wore that might be caught up
as a clue to bring the thing home to you!"

"The ermine cloak I wore! You say I wore an ermine cloak?"

"Yes. An ermine cloak and the same pretty white frock you had worn at
the Close earlier in the evening. It was the white of the ermine that
first attracted my attention in the darkness when I looked up and saw
you near the gates of Gleer Cottage."

"That is not the truth!" she flung back, with a sudden awakening from
the sort of stupor which, up till now, had mastered her. "I never wore
an ermine cloak in my life! I never was nearer to Gleer Cottage last
night than I am at this minute; and if you say that I met you, that I
spoke to you, that I even saw you, or that you saw me after Ailsa Lorne
led me out of the drawing-room at Clavering Close when you threatened
the Count de Louvisan's life, you are saying what is absolutely untrue."

"Kathie!"

"I repeat it, utterly and absolutely untrue."

"Good God! Do you accuse me of lying?"

"There must be some horrible mistake. Some one impersonated me for some
awful purpose. You never saw me again after I left your father's house
last night, and you know it. But, in any case, since you confess that
you were there, what took you to Gleer Cottage last night at all?"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A QUESTION OF VERACITY

Geoffrey Clavering's reply to Lady Katharine's staggering question was
given so promptly that one might have been tempted to believe he had
expected it and prepared himself for the question beforehand.

"I had no idea of going there at first," he said. "I couldn't remain
among the guests after you had left the Close and Narkom's men had