“Carlos,” she said, and the words fell in a little torrent from her mouth, “I told you a falsehood this morning. I acted a part. He was in my sitting-room all the time. Can you forgive me?” “I was sure of it,” said Carpentaria calmly, “and I can forgive you,” he added. “You do not know what it is to love,” she said. “You have never cared for anyone--in that way. I hadn’t--until I met----” “Who says I don’t know what it is to love!” he stopped her. “Perhaps I am learning. But tell me, when did you last see Ilam? Have you seen him since this morning?” “Yes,” she said. “Where?” “At his offices this evening.” “He gave no hint that he was in any danger?” “No immediate danger. Oh, Carlos, he is not what you think him to be. He is an honest man, and I am so sorry for him, and I love him. Where is he? What has happened to him?” “I can’t tell you now,” was Carpentaria’s reply, “but before morning we shall know more, or I am mistaken.” “It is for the crimes of others that he is suffering,” said Juliette. “He told you so?” “No, but I guess; I am sure. I know all his faults--all of them. I do not hide one of them from myself. Why should I, since he loves me and I love him?” “My child,” said Carpentaria abruptly, “you might have trusted me more.” “I should have trusted you absolutely,” answered Juliette, “but he is afraid of you. He would not let me. I could not disobey him. Sometime, somehow, you must have said something to frighten him and, though he is so big and strong, he is timid; he has timid eyes. It was because of his eyes that I first began to like him. Carlos, what are you going to do?” “I am going to watch,” was the response. “A man came to the back-door not long since, and asked whether you were at home.” “A man came to the back-door?” repeated Carpentaria sharply, every nerve suddenly on the strain. “Who was it? What did you say to him?” “At first I thought it was one of the night-staff, and then the man’s face made me suspicious; I imagined it might be a thief--you know what a state I am in, Carlos--and so I told him you had just gone to bed, and I shut the door in his face. I didn’t want him to think there were only women in the house. But, of course, it couldn’t have been a burglar--here----” “That is the wisest thing you have done this day, Juliette,” Carpentaria remarked; and then he questioned her as to the appearance of the mysterious inquirer. “Are you going to leave me?” cried Juliette, when Carpentaria picked up his hat, which had fallen from a chair to the floor. “Yes,” he said; “you must try to rest.” And then they were both startled by a strange noise on the window-pane. They listened. The noise was repeated. “Is it rain?” asked Juliette. “No,” said Carpentaria, “it’s gravel.” He went out on to the balcony. A form was discernible in the avenue below. “Is that you, Miss Dartmouth?” he whispered. “Yes,” came the reply. “I----” “Hush!” he warned her. “I’ll be with you in a second.”