And then Morelli proved himself a most delightful companion. He seemed to have been everywhere and to have seen everything. And it was not only knowledge. He put things so charmingly; he had a thousand ways of looking at things, a thousand ways of showing them off, so that you saw them from new points of view, and the world was an amusing, entertaining treasure-house of wonders. The minutes slipped by; the sun went down the sky, the shadow of the tree spread farther and farther across the lawn, the pinks and roses lay in bunches of red and pink and yellow against the dark background of the wall. Maradick got up to go and Morelli walked with him, his hat set back, his hands in his pockets. As they entered the house he said, “Ah, by the way, there was that Spanish sword that I promised to show you. It’s a fine thing and of some value; I’ll bring it down.” He disappeared up the stairs. Suddenly Janet was at Maradick’s elbow. He had not seen her coming, but she looked round with quick, startled eyes. Her white dress shone against the dark corners of the hall. He saw, too, that her face was very white and there were dark lines under her eyes; to his surprise she put her hand on his arm, she spoke in a whisper. “Mr. Maradick, please,” she said, “I must speak to you. There is only a minute. Please listen, it’s dreadfully important. Tony says you want to help us. There isn’t anyone else;” she spoke in little gasps and her hand was at her throat as though she found it difficult to breathe. “I must get away somehow, at once, I don’t know what will happen if I don’t. You don’t know father, and I can’t explain now, but I’m terribly frightened; and he will suddenly—I can see it coming.” She was nearly hysterical; he could feel her whole body trembling. “Tony said something yesterday that made father dreadfully angry. Tony ought not to have come; anything might happen when father’s like that. If you can’t help me I will run away; but you _must_ help.” She grew calmer but still spoke very rapidly, still throwing frightened glances at the stairs. “Listen; on the twenty-seventh—that’s Thursday—father’s going away. He’s going to Pendragon for the whole day; it was arranged long ago. He was to have taken me, but he has decided not to; I heard him tell Miss Minns—I——” But suddenly she was gone again, as quietly as she had come. He saw now that there had been a door behind her leading to some room. He looked up and saw that Morelli was coming downstairs carrying the sword. Five minutes afterwards he had left the house.