"Dargill sent me a note stating that he wanted to see me. I went; what could I do? He might have told Sir John about my past. Oh yes, I went; and Dargill told me that Pallant had been at him for a parcel of letters--an old correspondence between Dargill and myself. Pallant wanted to get them to increase his hold over me and wring money out of me. But Dargill, coward as he was, acted very well. He gave me the letters himself; that was why he sent for me. I went, I got the letters, and I came away. When I left the house Dargill--or Edermont, as he called himself--was as well as you or I." "But when Allen went into the study after you left it, he found Mr. Edermont dead, and the bureau robbed." "Then, if Dr. Scott did not kill him, someone else must have done so." "But Allen had no reason to kill him," argued Dora. "No," said Lady Burville, "but Carew had." "My father?" "Yes; I believe that my first husband killed my second. In a word, George Carew killed Mr. Dargill." CHAPTER XVIII. PALLANT MAKES A STATEMENT. Dora did not remain long with Lady Burville after she had heard the story; nor did her mother desire her to stay. There was no love lost between them, therefore there was no joy at their meeting, no sorrow at their parting. Lady Burville considered her daughter to be cold, proud, and unsympathetic. Dora saw that Lady Burville was a weak and frivolous fool, whom she could neither respect nor love. They parted with a feeling of mutual relief, but not before Lady Burville had extracted a promise of silence. "You must say nothing about what I've told you to anybody," she said imploringly. "My husband would never forgive me if he found out my past history. I told it to you so as to clear myself in your eyes as to the murder. Only Pallant knows my story, and he will keep silent while I give him money. As you are my child, you must be silent also. Say nothing--nothing." "But I wish to find out who killed my guardian," said Dora. "I tell you it was Carew. No one else had any reason to kill him. If you denounce Carew, you will hang your own father. Promise me to be silent." "I promise," said Dora curtly, and took her leave in the calmest manner. She returned to Selling, and thence rode to Chillum on her bicycle. It was close on eight before she got home, and she found Joad waiting for her at the gate. He looked pleased to see her, and wheeled the machine into the grounds. "You are late," said he, following her every movement with greedy eyes. "I hope you had a pleasant day with your friend." "Very pleasant, Mr. Joad. Good-night; I am tired." She walked off with a stiff nod, and left her elderly lover looking after her with a rather sulky expression. He had missed her greatly during the day, and resented her departure when he wanted to have a little chat before retiring to his own domicile across the road.