nt for Sisily's subsequent flight. If
Thalassa had jeopardized himself by keeping silence about her visit, and
had returned the key to her father's room in order to create the idea of
suicide, why had she dispelled the illusion by running away, bringing both
her accomplice and herself into danger? Had she been, seized with terror,
perhaps due to Mrs. Pendleton's insistence on her belief of murder, or had
Thalassa conveyed some warning to her that inquiries were likely to be put
afoot?

These were questions to which Barrant felt he could find no answer until
he had seen Thalassa and attempted to wrest the truth from him.

He postponed his visit to Hint House until the evening. He wanted to make
the journey as Sisily had made it on the previous night, in order to find
out, as nearly as possible, the exact moment she had arrived at her
father's house. He was not even in a position to prove that she had gone
by the wagonette until he had questioned the driver.

He took his way to the station that evening with the feeling that it would
be difficult to get anything out of Thalassa, whatever the reasons for his
silence. He instinctively recognized that the authority of the law, which
strikes such terror into craven hearts, would not help him with this old
man whose glance had the lawless fearlessness of an eagle. But he had
confidence in his ability to extract the truth, and Thalassa, moreover,
was at the disadvantage of having something to hide. It would be strange
if he did not succeed in getting the facts out of him.

The St. Fair wagonette was pulled up outside the station. Mr. Crows,
master of his destiny and time-tables, reclined in front, regarding with a
glazed eye his drooping horse. Inside, some stout women with bundles
waited patiently until it suited the autocrat on the box seat to start on
his homeward way. Mr. Crows showed no indication of being in a hurry. His
head nodded drowsily, and a little saliva trickled down his nether lip. He
straightened himself with a sudden jerk as Barrant climbed up beside him.

"What be yewer doin' yare?" he demanded.

"I'm going to St. Fair," said Barrant.

"I doan't allow no passergers to sit alongside o' me."

"You'll have to put up with it for once," returned Barrant curtly, in no
way softened by the odour of Mr. Crows' breath.

As this was a reply which no resident of St. Fair would have dared to
make, Mr. Crows bent a muddled glance on his fare, and by a concentrated