"I'm busy," Phillips said darkly. "I've a good many things to do this morning. I've to interview Selwyn and other big plungers. After that, I have an appointment with one of the leading men of Scotland Yard, which will take us down to Mirst Park with a view to going over a certain house we wot of." Phillips bustled away and Fielden lost no time in seeking out the modest residence of Major Carden. He was disappointed to hear that Miss Carden was out, but it was gratifying to be told that Miss Carden's friend was in the house. Without waiting for further information, Fielden walked upstairs into the room where May was seated. She had pulled a chair up dejectedly in front of the fire and started at the sound of Fielden's voice. There were tears in her eyes. "So you have found me out." "Oh, yes, I have run you to earth," Fielden smiled. "I have been looking for you for three days. I had some difficulty in getting the Major's address, but felt quite sure that when I had that you would not be far off. Like me, May, you have not many friends. And now, don't you think you have been foolish?" May smiled through her tears. "But what else could I do?" she asked. "Oh, my dear boy, if you knew everything you would not blame me." "I think I do know everything," Fielden said gravely. "At any rate, I know why you left home. I had a long interview with your father, and--well, I won't blame him. None of us know what we would do in a temptation like that. That scoundrel Copley had him entirely in his power. Now, tell me, do you know anything of the great conspiracy? Were you in the library the night before you left home, and did you hear Sir George and Copley----" "I heard everything," May exclaimed. "I must tell you, Harry; I must tell somebody. I never felt so ashamed and humiliated in my life. It was bad enough to be turned out of the house because I refused to marry that man, but when I found that my father had entered into a plot with Mr. Copley to do a disgraceful thing, I felt I could not stay at home any longer. I suppose the mischief is done and the Blenheim colt has been struck out of the Derby. But though the public will never know how they have been swindled, I shall always feel that my father----" The girl broke down. "You need not worry about that," Fielden said. "I quite understand what your feelings are. But what you so greatly dread will never happen. Disgrace will be spared you and yours, because your father has not the power to interfere with the colt. Possibly before the day is out Copley will be as helpless as a child. You look surprised and I don't wonder. I am going to tell you something in the nature of a romance. To begin with, the Blenheim colt belongs to me."