"Why, yes, sir. 'Twouldn't be the old `Blue Boar,' if we hadn't got some of that. Or would you rather have some of her sloe gin? That was a drink of the old coaching and posting days. Try some, sir." "All right, thanks, bring me some of that." Raife sat in the deep arm-chair and his mind was a whirlwind of mixed thought and emotion. On the one hand, the mystery of his father's murder had not been revealed at the inquest. Nor had any light been thrown upon his father's dying words--that cryptic utterance which rang in his ears with a dull insistence that maddened him. "Tell him to be careful--to be wary of the trap--every man has a skeleton in his cupboard--this is mine." Then those last three fateful words: "her--that woman." Who is that woman? If he only knew. His father fought three lads in the copse at Tyser Wood, as he had just learnt from Twisegood: that was easy. To fight an unknown woman, to be wary of a trap--that is hard. The full force of an August sun still bathed the world in its glorious light, and the warm glow came through those drawn white blinds of this mysterious white room. In spite of that, Raife shivered. Old Mr Twisegood returned with the sloe gin. Raife said: "Although it's August and the sun is shining, I feel cold. Let us light that fire." Soon the hearth roared with crackling flames, and Raife was left to himself and his troubled thoughts. The white room of the "Blue Boar" had been famous for many generations. The secret stairway leading into the loose box in the stable had formed the means of many an escapade, and young Sir Raife was very familiar with its possibilities. To-day he merely wanted to reflect, and the peaceful atmosphere and general air of quietude suited his mood. CHAPTER SIX. IN THE SOUTHERN LAND OF ADVENTURE. Raife's passion for Gilda had been as sudden as it was fierce, and here, in the solitude of this strange white room, he allowed his pent-up feelings to obtain the mastery of him. Twisegood having closed the door, Raife paced up and down the long room with rapid strides, reiterating his admiration for her beauty. At length, he decided to return to Aldborough Park. On his way he sent a telegram and eagerly awaited a reply on the following morning, but no reply arrived. The thousand and one details that surround the funeral of the head of an old family are very trying to those who are responsible for the dignity of the function and its safe conduct. Raife had been sorely tried in his position as the new head of the family. At last the ceremony was completed and most of the mourners had returned to their homes. With a haste that attracted attention, at least, in some quarters, he went to Southport, and then called at the "Queen's," and, having asked for Miss Tempest, was rather surprised when the hall-porter handed him a note. He hastily tore it open and read: "Dear Mr Remington--Our friendship is forbidden. For your sake--and for mine--forget me.