“Perhaps he’s got hold of something,” she mused. “And I believe he’s quite capable of keeping back important papers, and bringing out a rival work to mine, compiled from authorities he has kept from me.” For Lady Marion shared the common mistrust of Amos Goodhare, which was, perhaps, only a result of his extreme reserve. “He looks wickeder than ever, at any rate,” murmured Kate, as the sisters went softly up the stairs together. “Look here,” whispered Marion, when they had reached the upper floor, and come in sight of the tower staircase at the other end of a long, dark corridor. “You call him out suddenly, as if something had happened, and I’ll watch him on the stairs from the space between the staircase and the window. Then I’ll see what he does with the papers, and try to get in and have a look at them.” “All right,” whispered Lady Kate. And they stole along the corridor to the further end. CHAPTER II. The two girls carried out their plan beautifully. Marion crept softly up the tower staircase as far as the window. Then, crouching down, she managed to peep between the dusty panes and the side of the staircase, and saw the top of the librarian’s head, which moved from side to side as he scanned the pages of a discolored MS. Suddenly, ringing down the corridor came a cry in a high, girlish voice, which caused Amos to start and mechanically to hide away under his coat the paper he was reading. Marion noted this action with a suspicious eye. “Mr. Goodhare, Mr. Goodhare! Where are you? Come! Quick!” the second young conspirator was crying lustily. “Here I am, your ladyship, at your service,” called out the librarian, as the girl’s voice sounded nearer and nearer. At the same moment he opened the old chest he had been ransacking, and thrust the document he had been reading deep down among a mass of other old papers, from which the dust rose in a cloud as his hand moved them. To Lady Marion’s delight, he had dropped the last page on the ground. But she had scarcely congratulated herself on the fact when, turning, he perceived the missing leaf, and, not having time to put it into the chest with the rest, dropped it into his pocket. Then he hastened out of his corner to meet the young girl, and addressed her in his usual suave, respectful and dignified manner: “What can I do for your ladyship?” “I want you to help me with my Latin exercise. There are some dreadfully hard words in it this time.” “I shall be delighted,” said he, as he followed the young girl downstairs.