"Owain is coming," interrupted Zara quickly, as she glanced out of the open French window of the room. "Yonder he is with Mr. Vane, who was sent to bring him by Mrs. Perage. My dear"--she kissed Gwen's cheek--"I will slip out to join Mrs. Perage and Ned in the garden. You stay here and make it up with Mr. Hench. No half-measures, mind. Be generous and loyal." And with a smiling nod the dancer flitted through the window just as the footsteps of Owain were heard in the hall. "Oh!" said Gwen, drawing a long breath, "how nearly I have lost him." Vane had sense enough not to enter along with his friend, as he thoroughly understood the saying about two being company and three none. In a most loyal fashion he obliterated himself, and Owain walked into the room by himself. The young man looked worn and ill, so that Gwen's heart was touched, and she felt ashamed of her conduct, which was responsible for his wilted appearance. Almost without thought she flew into his arms. "I'm a horrid creature," she murmured. "Do forgive me and I'll be good." "Oh!"--Owain's pale face flushed suddenly and his brown eyes sparkled--"then you don't believe----" "I believe that you love me. Mademoiselle Zara has explained everything." "Thank God for that. Where is she?" "Do you wish to see her?" asked Miss Evans jealously. "Only to thank her. But that can come later. Meantime"--he bent and kissed her three or four times--"oh, Gwen, how could you think that I loved any one in the world but you--you--you?" "I was silly and wicked and--and----" "No! No! There was some cause for your anger, as Madame Alpenny told so skilful a lie. It wasn't all a lie, of course, as I did propose to Zara." "I know you did, and I know why you did. But you will be much happier with me than with her," said the girl naïvely. "Than with any one, Gwen," cried the young man fervently. "Oh, my dear, to think how nearly I have lost you." "I said that to myself about you, just before you entered," whispered Gwen in a penitent tone. "Do forgive me." "On condition that you forgive me," pleaded Owain fondly. "Dear, there is nothing to forgive," said the girl, abasing herself. "It is all my fault--all my fault. I'm a nasty little jealous animal." "Just the kind of animal I like." Owain pressed her hard in his arms. "I'll never, never let you go again, and now that we are together and you are on my side, I am prepared to face the worst." "Face what?" "Ah, I forgot; you don't understand. I have a long explanation to give." Hench paused and looked nervous, as he drew Gwen to a chair and sat down to take her on his knee. "You won't hate me, or doubt me?" "Never! Never!" Gwen positively. "I'll never doubt you again. What is the matter?" "Murder is the matter!" "What?" She started back and stared at his perturbed face. "The murder of----" "Yes! The murder of your father. You know that tramp you suspect?" "The one who asked the way to the Gipsy Stile? Yes." "I am that tramp."