It is a maxim in warfare that he who scorns to use the enemy’s weapons will find himself defeated; unfairly, no doubt, but defeated. In her combat with guile Cynthia had no intention of being defeated. She had therefore delivered to Dora not the whole of Laura’s message but only that part which concerned the packing of the trunk. For the rest, Cynthia remarked airily, she was going up to London the next day herself and could therefore take the trunk with her. By this simple expedient Cynthia was able to ensure not only Laura’s absence while she put Mr. Priestley out of his misery, but also the further meeting for the afternoon. Cynthia knew perfectly well what she was going to do at this second interview; she was going to talk to Mr. Priestley, and then she was going to smile at him—and, if necessary, go on smiling till dusk. Had Cynthia but known it, there was reason for an added millimetre or two to her smile. It would have amused her a good deal to know that, while the two chief conspirators were chuckling over their crack-brained preparations for the confounding of Reginald Foster, Esq., an almost equally clever mind was hard at work trying to extract the foundation from the whole erection and topple it down upon the heads of its own authors. To take another maxim from _The Child’s Guide to Warfare_, it is a fatal mistake to underestimate one’s opponent. Guy and Mr. Doyle had not the faintest suspicion that they had not hoodwinked the friendly Chief Constable just as successfully as that fatherly terror of village murderers, Inspector Cottingham. Having ascertained that Mr. Foster had spent Saturday evening at home and had therefore no _alibi_ beyond the word of his wife, they had proceeded to plant his note-paper and carve George’s boots with the utmost enjoyment and confidence. For, as to careful attention to detail, had they not previously muffled their faces in the best shilling-shocker manner and actually distributed real gent’s blood about the place, with the most gratifying results? What could any Chief Constable want more? After a thoroughly satisfactory day, therefore, the two families prepared to spend Sunday evening in their own respective houses. George would have strolled across to Dell Cottage, had he not thought that he did not wish to see very much more of Cynthia that day; for, attempting to join the other two in the drawing-room after dinner, he was promptly ejected. “For,” as Mr. Doyle pointed out with some feeling, “much though I like and esteem you, George, there are times when I like and esteem you better at a distance, and this is one of them. Go out into the garden, George, and hang yourself on a bush; that’s the proper place for gooseberries.” “You needn’t stay, really, George,” Dora added earnestly. “I’ve quite grown-up now, you know. And if the man’s intentions become _too_ dishonourable, I can always scream for you, can’t I?”