He had no wish to shirk any inquiry, so far as he was personally concerned, but he meant to shelter the guilty, wretched woman whom he loved still, in spite of himself, and then forget her--if he could! If he could! Ah! that was a painful proviso; for, somehow, he could only think of her even now--standing over her victim--as he had known her in the early days of her innocent girlhood, when he had believed her to be as true as steel, and as worthy of his worship as any saint. And this was her work. How thankful he was to escape from its contemplation, and lock the door on the white face, which was fast settling into the solemn calm of death, no words can tell. He followed Wiginton down-stairs, and when mine host, who looked thoroughly overcome, suggested that a glass of brandy would not come amiss, Colonel Dacre welcomed the suggestion, and felt much fortified for the task before him, when he had taken a good dose of the stimulant. Then he went to the Grange. He determined that he would see Lady Gwendolyn at once--even if he had to steal into her house like a thief--for her only chance was to escape before the post-mortem examination made the cause of death evident, and set the police on the track of the murderer. The dead man’s presence at Turoy once traced to her influence, and their secret meetings known, there would be no hope of her getting away; and though she deserved her fate, as he was fain to confess, he meant to save her, even if he perished in her place. But as he was leaving the inn, Wiginton said rather dubiously: “It’s no use my going to the village after the police, for Lady Lenox sent for the inspector over to her place last night, I heard them say. At her last ball some thieves got into the house, and stole a good deal of plate, so that she determined to have somebody to watch the house this time. I suppose I had better go there, sir, hadn’t I?” “If you are sure to find him.” “There’s no doubt about that. I saw him outside the fly that took her ladyship to the ball. It came from the George, and I suppose the driver gave him a lift so far on his way.” “Do you mean that Lady Gwendolyn St. Maur went to the ball, Mr. Wiginton?” “I believe so, sir. The two families were always intimate, and it isn’t likely they would leave her out.” “But she would surely have returned by this time.” “I think not. Lady Lenox is noted for keeping up her balls until six or seven o’clock in the morning, and those who can stand such hours have breakfast before they go home. She is a very excitable person, and always turns night into day.” Colonel Dacre looked at his watch. “It is not ten minutes past four,” he said. “How long would it take us to go to Lady Lenox’s house?” “About half an hour, sir. But I needn’t take you--surely?” “I should prefer to accompany you, as I want to see somebody whom I am likely to find there. But we had better be quick.”