ward with the air of
wishing to exclude the Earl from further speech.

"May I ask, Miss Abbeway," he began, "whether the small coupe car,
standing about a hundred yards down the back avenue, is yours?"

"It is," she assented, with a little sigh. "It won't go."

"It won't go?" the Colonel repeated.

"I thought you might know something about cars," she explained. "They
tell me that two of the sparking plugs are cracked. I am thinking of
replacing them tomorrow morning, if I can get Mr. Orden to help me."

"How long has the car been there in its present condition, then?" the
Colonel enquired.

"Since about five o'clock yesterday afternoon," she replied.

"You don't think it possible that it could have been out on the road
anywhere last night, then?"

"Out on the road!" she laughed. "Why, I couldn't get it up to the
garage! You go and look at it, Colonel, if you understand cars.
Fellowes, the chauffeur here, had a look at the plugs when I brought it
in, and you'll find that they haven't been touched."

"I trust," the Earl intervened, "that my chauffeur offered to do what
was necessary?"

"Certainly he did, Lord Maltenby," she assured him. "I am trying hard
to be my own mechanic, though, and I have set my mind on changing those
plugs myself to-morrow morning."

"You are your own chauffeur, then, Miss Abbeway?" her inquisitor asked.

"Absolutely."

"You can change a wheel, perhaps?"

"Theoretically I can, but as a matter of fact I have never had to do
it.'"

"Your tyres," Colonel Henderson continued, "are of somewhat unusual
pattern."

"They are Russian," she told him. "I bought them for that reason. As a
matter of fact, they are very good tyres."

"Miss Abbeway," the Colonel said, "I don't know whether you are aware
that my police are in search of a spy who is reported to have escaped
from the marshes last night in a small motor-car which was left at a
certain spot in the Salthouse road. I do not believe that there are two
tyres such as yours in Norfolk. How do you account for their imprint
being clearly visible along the road to a certain spot near Salthouse?
My police have taken tracings of them this morning."

Catherine remained perfectly speechless. A slow smile of triumph dawned
upon her accuser's lips. Lord Maltenby's eyebrows were upraised as
though in horror.

"Perhaps," Julian interposed, "I can explain the tyre marks upon the
road. Miss Abbeway drove me down to Furley's cottage, where I spe