Angela slipped silently down the broad stairway, utterly unconscious of the fact that she had been discovered. She was usually self-contained enough, but her heart was beating a little faster than usual. In some vague way she could not disassociate this visit of Harold’s from the tragedy of the earlier evening. And to a certain extent Harold was compromising her, a thing he would have hesitated to do unless the need had been very pressing. By instinct Angela found her way to the garden-room window, the well-oiled catch came back with a click, and Harold was in the room. They wanted no light, the moon was more than sufficient. Harold’s face was pale and distressed in the softened rays of light. "My dearest, I had to come," he whispered in extenuation. "It was my only chance. I could not possibly enter Sir Frobisher’s house by legitimate means, and yet at the same time it is important that I should see certain things here. If I could only tell you everything!" "Tell me all or as little as you like," Angela whispered. "I can trust you all the same." "It is good to hear you say that, Angela. It was wrong of me to come, and yet there was no other way. Did you show Sir Clement those blossoms that I gave you?" "My dear, there was no possible chance. I placed the spray in the conservatory, intending to give my guardian a pleasant surprise to-morrow, and then the tragedy happened. But of course you know nothing of that." "Indeed I do, Angela. I know all about it. Jessop, the judge, who dined here to-night, came into the club full of it. Manfred, Count Lefroy’s secretary, wasn’t it?" "The same man. I cannot understand it. Harold. There was a man in the conservatory, or rather there was a man going towards the conservatory, who had no business there. Anybody could see that from his manner. My idea was to place the spray there and to ask the intruder what he was doing. When I reached the conservatory the place was empty. Absolutely empty, and yet I had seen the man enter! There is no exit either. I went back to my room not knowing what to think. And shortly afterwards I heard Hafid cry out. From the top of the stairs I heard all that was going on. And the man who had been strangled in the conservatory was the very man I had seen." Denvers said nothing for the moment. He was breathing hard and his face was pale with horror. Angela could feel his hand trembling as she laid her own upon it. "I think you understand," she whispered. "I fancy that you know. Harold, tell me what all this strange mystery means." "Not yet," Denvers replied. "You must wait. Nobody ever heard the like of it before. And so long as you are under the same roof as—but what am I talking about? But this much I may say: the whole horrible problem revolves round the Cardinal Moth." "Round the flower that you gave me to-night, Harold! And that so innocent looking and beautiful."