But Colin did not know Symington, or he would have, at least, qualified his confidence. As a matter of fact, by thrashing the man he had simply turned a cad into a blackguard. But he drove back to Aberdare Mansions feeling that he had been able to do something for his beloved after all, though she must never know of it, and he arrived there happier than he had been for months. Risk met him in the hall with a quizzical smile. “Found him out, I suppose, Hayward?” “That’s for you to do, Mr. Risk,” was the blithe reply. “I found him in, and I fancy he’ll not move far to-night, at all events.” “Don’t tell me,” said Risk, his eyes on the cane, “you whacked the beggar!” “To the best of my ability.” Colin found his hand being shaken. “It was splendid, Hayward,” Risk said gravely, “and we must hope it was also wise. Now we’ll forget about it for the present. Come along and have your coffee. We have heard Miss Carstairs’ story, and West and I are her willing servants, till she comes to her own. But, of course, she must not know we are working for her, and she must, if possible, be induced to forget those ugly little incidents of to-night—or, at any rate, be prevented from dwelling on them.” A couple of hours later, the night being exquisite, Colin walked home with Kitty, West escorting Hilda. “Mr. Risk is giving you plenty to do, isn’t he?” Kitty remarked, making an effort to shake off the feeling of restraint that had come upon her on finding herself alone with Colin. “Yes,” said Colin, who was hampered by a similar sensation. “But he’s worth working for. He has given me a chance that I might have sought in vain all my life. But never mind about me, Kitty,” he went on. “I wish very much to know what you—or rather Miss Risk—told the others while I was absent to-night.” “I think I’d rather not talk about it,” she said, after a short pause. “Mr. West, or Mr. Risk, will tell you, if you really want to know.” “Kitty, why do you say that, and in such a tone?” “Why did you go away almost as soon as I asked Hilda to tell my story?” “Why? Well, because—” he hesitated—“because it suddenly occurred to me that—that there was a thing I must attend to,” he concluded lamely. “Good heavens, Kitty, you surely didn’t imagine that I was anything but keen to hear your story! Ever since I learned you were in London I’ve been wondering how the great change came about.” His earnestness overcame her doubts. “I’m a horrid thing, Colin,” she declared self-reproachfully, “but I wanted to make sure that you did not despise me—” “Despise you!” “—for running away from Dunford, and for accepting the kindness of strangers as I have done.” “What an absurd idea, Kitty! I won’t tell you how glad I was to hear you were in London and in the care of such friends. Show that you trust me a little better by telling me how it all came about. By the way, have you heard from Dunford since you left?”