"Oh, yes," and he hitched uneasily in his chair, as though approaching an unwelcome topic. "But I did not know him well. He was what the world calls a hard man--somewhat harsh and cold, though perfectly free from positive vice. He was thoroughly respected." "He seems to have left a large property." "Yes; one of the largest in Elizabeth. Mrs. Lawrence, of course, inherited her father's, also." "Both she and her daughter are members of your church?" "Two of the most faithful. They give largely to charity; they are really Christian women." We sat silent for a moment. To me, at least, the mystery seemed deeper than ever. "Has it occurred to you, Mr. Lester," asked the clergyman hesitatingly, "that perhaps Miss Lawrence discovered something in Mr. Curtiss's past----" "Yes," I interrupted. "I put that before Curtiss squarely, and he assured me there was nothing she could discover. I'm sure he spoke the truth. Besides, in that case, why should Miss Lawrence flee? Why not merely dismiss him? Her flight seems to argue some guilt on her part." "Yes," nodded my companion; "yes." "Some guilt, too," I added, "of a very remarkable kind, which she was not conscious of until this morning, and which then appeared suddenly before her in such hideous shape that flight was her only resource. That seems inconceivable, doesn't it?" Dr. Schuyler dropped his head back against his chair with a little sigh which bespoke utter fatigue. "Yes," he said, "inconceivable--the whole thing is inconceivable. It's a kind of horrible nightmare. I can't make anything of it. My brain is in a whirl." "I'm taxing your patience too long," I protested, rising instantly. "You need rest. Only let me thank you for your kindness." He held out his hand with a smile. "I seem only to have made dark places darker," he said. "If you succeed in untangling the snarl, I should like to hear about it." "You shall," I promised and took myself back to the hotel. I felt that there was nothing more to be done that night, and so mounted to my room.