She knew that he did not wish to be questioned further, and changed the subject. She had a visitor coming, she told him, and only when she told him who it was, did his eyes twinkle. “Good Lord! That lady? I suppose you realize you’re harbouring a dangerous rival?” “Don’t be horrid, Dick. The poor girl was very fond of Harry, and in the letter she wrote to me she told me that she hoped I wouldn’t be embarrassed by her coming----” “She would say that,” said Dick grimly. “--and that she had almost forgotten Harry’s stupid infatuation.” Dick stopped to laugh. “Can you beat that?” he asked, with tears in his eyes. “Jumping snakes! ‘Harry’s stupid infatuation’! Well, I won’t be ungenerous.” “Don’t,” she warned him. “I’m rather sorry for the girl.” “Don’t,” he mimicked. “You need never be sorry for Mary. If you keep her off the subject of me, you’ll have a very pleasant week-end. But in the matter of Richard Alford she is a fanatic. I won’t tell you the horrid things she says of me, because it would prejudice you against her.” “How do you know?” she challenged. “Quite a number of people say horrid things about Richard Alford.” “Not to you,” he said quietly, and she flushed and again changed the subject. “I don’t know why I’m up so early; I didn’t go to bed till two.” “It was ten minutes past two when your light went out,” he said promptly, and she stared at him. “How do you know?” “I happened to be passing your house.” He was in such a hurry to explain that she was suspicious. “The Black Abbot was about last night. Puttler and I did a little ghost-hunting.” “Did you see him?” He shook his head. “Nobody saw him except a terrified gamekeeper.” Suddenly she turned to him with a little gasp of surprise. “It _was_ you!” she accused. “What was me?” “I am sure I saw somebody at the lower end of the drive. You were smoking a cigar: I could see the little red glow; and at first I thought it was Harry, and this morning I found the end of the cigar near the lodge gates--Richard Alford, do you ever sleep?” “Frequently,” he said, with a smile, and put his arm round her shoulder. “I’m being brotherly: take no alarm,” he mocked her. “Leslie, dear, will you promise?” “What?” she asked. “Not to wander through the fields at odd hours. I don’t want to alarm you--I feel a brute as it is--but there may be real danger for the next day or two. Please don’t ask me what it is, because I can’t tell you; I’m not so sure that I know.” She turned this over in her mind for a long time. “Has it to do with the Chelford treasure?” she asked, and, to her surprise, he nodded. XXXIV In sight of her house he left her, and, remounting his horse, cantered away. She watched him until a bend of the road hid him from view, and then with a little sigh she walked slowly toward her home.