"I'm sure of it. There can be only one explanation of that letter--it demanded a price for silence; threatened exposure--at the church itself, perhaps, unless the money was paid. Miss Lawrence flew here with what jewels and money she could lay her hands on at the moment, gave them to him, and he left; or perhaps she only promised to reward him if he'd keep the secret--it's doubtful if she had money enough at hand to buy him off, for his demands wouldn't be modest. At any rate, she got rid of him for the moment. But after he had gone, she reflected that she would always be at his mercy, that she could never be Burr Curtiss's legal wife. Suppose she should return to the house and carry through the farce of a marriage ceremony, she would only be preparing for herself an agony of suffering even more terrible than that which she was then enduring. The time would surely come when she would be unmasked before her lover. She could bear anything but that. She decided to end it--but to end it in such a way that her secret would be safe forever. So she lured him away upon another trail, then returned here and----" He finished with a significant gesture at his throat. I thought it over; then I shook my head. "It won't do, Godfrey," I said. "It won't hold together. In the first place, how did this fellow know about the Kingdons? If he met Miss Lawrence here, they must be his accomplices." "I believe they are." "Granting that, I don't believe Miss Lawrence killed herself. I certainly don't believe any such fantastic theory as that Miss Kingdon is working away there in the cellar burying the body. Why should she incur such a risk as that?" "I've asked myself the same question, depend upon it, Lester." "And found an answer to it?" "Not yet." "Miss Lawrence is on board the _Umbria_," I repeated, trying to convince myself. "Then what is Miss Kingdon doing in the cellar?" "I don't know, but it's not what you think." "Well," said Godfrey, rising suddenly, "I'm not going to theorise about it any longer--I'm going to find out." "To find out?" I echoed, rising too. "Yes--I'm going to enter the house." "But you'll be committing a felony." "Oh, I don't think I'll have to break in. I believe that door yonder is unlocked, Lester. Lucy Kingdon came out of it, and I'm pretty sure it hasn't been locked since." "That makes no difference," I pointed out. "If you turn the latch, you are, legally, just as guilty as if you picked the lock." "Well, I'm going to take the risk," and he stooped over and slipped off his shoes. "Suppose you stay here and give the alarm if any one comes." "That would make me an accessory just as much as going along," I objected. He laughed. "Well, come along, then," he said, and started toward the house; then stopped and turned toward me. "Have you got a revolver?" "No; I thought of buying one last night, but this morning it seemed ridiculous."