Having said this, he made a little bow and drew away, as though to end an awkward situation. The younger man bowed and did the same. Westerham thereupon walked to the end of the passage, where Lady Kathleen waited for him, Melun following hard upon his footsteps. “Pardon me,” said Westerham, facing about once more, “but your assistance is not required. You will be kind enough to call on me at Walter's to-morrow morning, when I shall ask you for an explanation of many things. Till then I have no further need of you.” Lady Kathleen listened to this curt speech of Westerham's in an indifferent way, as though all her senses were partially numbed. Still she gave him a quick little look that was not only a glance of gratitude, but a look of inquiry. Plainly she herself was puzzled by the attitude Westerham adopted towards the captain. However, she said nothing at all, nor did she attempt to break the silence till the cab in which Westerham drove her back to Downing Street was drawing close to Whitehall. Then, as she appeared to speak with a great effort, turning her face towards Westerham and peering at him as though endeavouring to read his thoughts, she thanked him for his intervention. “Mr. Robinson,” she said, “I am profoundly grateful for all that you have done, though I confess I cannot understand it at all. If you speak to Melun in that way you must be his master, and if you are his master it may in reality have been you who dragged me to that place to-night to pit my poor little skill against Melun's bank for the sake of my father's honour.” “Heaven forbid that I should do such a thing,” cried Westerham, fervently, “and Heaven forbid that you should believe me capable of any such villainy! I suspected that you had been drawn there on some such pretext, but I assure you that I knew nothing of it. It is impossible for me to explain now what has happened since I saw you last. I can only tell you that I have been almost as badly treated as yourself.” As he spoke Lady Kathleen drew away from him with a slight shudder, as though some recollection had suddenly come back to her. “The murder,” she asked, “what of that? I am told that it happened in your room?” “I am innocent of it in every way,” said Westerham, earnestly. “Indeed, I have not yet discovered the motive of such a dastardly act. I can, however, make a guess, and the guess fills me with apprehension just as much for my safety as for yours. “Why will you not relent,” he cried, “and make a confidant of me? Believe me that it is within my power to help you, and that I will gladly serve you in any way that you choose to dictate.” Kathleen gave a little sob. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “don't distress me any further. It is not my secret but my father's—besides, I am not sure that you do not know.” Westerham thrust up the trap and ordered the cabman to stop.