“Oh, don’t you know. Of course, it’s a secret, but still it’s one that everyone seems to know--except papa and mamma,” babbled out Lady Kate, in a confidential tone. “Marion is so dreadfully, idiotically fond of that Rees of yours that she has gone to stay with Aunt Lucilla, in Eaton Square, so that she may stay in the same town with him. She is making a perfect fool of herself about him. I must say so, Mr. Pennant, though I know he is your brother.” “Oh, I’m not at all offended, Lady Kate. You can’t expect two geniuses in one family. But I think its a pity Lord St. Austell isn’t told of their pranks.” “Nobody dares tell papa anything since last Friday,” answered Kate in a lower voice. “He was knocked down and robbed as he was walking at night with one of his friends. He had been out to dinner, and it was so foggy that he dared not drive home. And--of course we are not supposed to talk about it--but he believes he recognised one of the men who attacked him.” “Who was it?” asked Godwin, interested. “Why--you won’t say anything about it, will you?--but he thinks the man who knocked him down was the man who used to be librarian here--Amos Goodhare!” “By Jove!” cried Godwin. “You don’t mean it?” “Yes, I do. This man struck papa down quite savagely, and held him down, and was going to kick him as he lay on the ground if one of the men with him--there were three altogether--had not interfered.” A sharply uttered exclamation burst from Deborah’s lips. Godwin and Lady Kate turned quickly, and saw that the color had left her cheeks and that her face wore a terror-struck expression. “What is the matter, dear?” asked plump little Lady Kate, in much concern. “Nothing, nothing. I--I was only thinking--of--of what a narrow escape your father might have had with those--ruffians, and how glad I am that one of them had the humanity to save him from being hurt.” “Yes, indeed, we were surprised ourselves at that. It is quite like Claude Duval and the days of chivalry, isn’t it? But I mustn’t laugh about it for really poor papa has a dreadful bruise at the back of his head, and he might have been killed, of course.” “Yes, I--I am very thankful,” said Deborah. Godwin saw that something was the matter, and he managed to cut short Lady Kate’s chatter, so that he could take Deborah home. But not all his artfully made suggestions and inquiries could drag from her the secret of the fear which made her creep about with startled eyes and a terror-struck white face all through that Christmas Day. CHAPTER XVI.