She was impatient, but she looked at him for a moment with a gleam of sadness in her eyes. “It would be much better for you,” she said, “if you would make up your mind to put that folly behind you.” “It may be folly, but it is not the sort of folly one forgets.” “You had better try then, Cecil,” she said, “for it is quite hopeless. You know that. Be a man and leave off dwelling upon the impossible. I do not wish to marry, and I do not expect to, but if ever I did, it would not be you!” He was silent for a few moments--looking gloomily across at the girl, loathing the thought that she, his ideal of all those things which most become a woman, graceful, handsome, perfectly bred, should ever be brought into contact at all with such a man as this one whose confidence she was planning to gain. No, he could not go away and leave her! He must be at hand, must remain her friend. “I wonder,” he said, “couldn't we have one of our old evenings again? Listen--” “I would rather not,” she interrupted softly. “If you will persist in talking of a forbidden subject you must go away. Be reasonable, Cecil.” He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again his tone was changed. “Very well,” he said. “I will try to let things be as you wish--for the present. Now do you want to hear some news?” She nodded. “Of course.” “It's about Dick--seems rather a coincidence too. He was at the Cape, you know, with a firm of surveyors, and he's been offered a post on the Gold Coast.” “The Gold Coast! How odd! Anywhere near--?” “The offer came from the Bekwando Company!” “Is he going?” “Yes.” She was full of eager interest. “How extraordinary! He might be able to make some inquiries for me.” He nodded. “What there is to be discovered about Mr. Scarlett Trent, he can find out! But, Ernestine, I want you to understand this! I have nothing against the man, and although I dislike him heartily, I think it is madness to associate him in any way with your father's death.” “You do not know him. I do!” “I have only told you my opinion,” he answered, “it is of no consequence. I will see with your eyes. He is your enemy and he shall be my enemy. If there is anything shady in his past out there, depend upon it Dick will hear of it.” She pushed the wavy hair back from her forehead--her eyes were bright, and there was a deep flush of colour in her cheeks. But the man was not to be deceived. He knew that these things were not for him. It was the accomplice she welcomed and not the man. “It is a splendid stroke of fortune,” she said. “You will write to Fred to-day, won't you? Don't prejudice him either way. Write as though your interest were merely curiosity. It is the truth I want to get at, that is all. If the man is innocent I wish him no harm--only I believe him guilty.” “There was a knock at the door--both turned round. Ernestine's trim little maidservant was announcing a visitor who followed close behind. “Mr. Scarlett Trent.” CHAPTER XXI