At the conclusion of Pat's ditties, Ronald and Foster arose to go, in spite of a chorus that it was early. But Mrs. Pellypop, on behalf of the clerical party, said it was late. "Begad, the night's young, and the liquor's plentiful," said Pat, impudently. "I never touch spirits," said Mrs. Pellypop, majestically. "More's the pity," retorted Pat; "it 'ud keep the night air out, anyhow." Mrs. Pellypop deigned no response to this flippancy, but sailed out of the room, and shortly afterwards departed with the Bishop, and her daughter. Ronald and Foster had a glass of whisky and soda each while their dog-cart was being brought round, and then went off, Ronald promising to call next day. "And you won't forget what I told you," said Carmela, as he went. "No," replied Ronald, pressing her hand; "and mind you let me know when Vassalla comes down." They drove off in the moonlight, in silence for a time, and then Foster said-- "What a charming girl is Miss Trevor." "Oh, ho!" from Monteith: "so you've lost your heart?" "And why not?" retorted Foster; "you are not the only person privileged to lose your heart." "Well, I hope your course of true love will run smoother than mine," sighed Ronald. "My dear old boy," said Foster, "yours will be all right. I've got a presentiment that we shall hear from Mrs. Verschoyle." "Do you think she is guilty?" asked Ronald. "I don't know, but whether or no, she'll not let this marriage take place." "But she can't stop it." "Can't she? she knows more, perhaps, than we think. How is it Vassalla's dagger was found in the dead man's breast?" "But you don't think"--began Ronald, when Foster interrupted him. "I think nothing," he retorted, whipping up the horse, "except that we'll hear from Mrs. Verschoyle." Events proved him a true prophet, for on arrival at the Crown Hotel there was a letter waiting for Ronald, which he opened and read, then passed it to Foster. "Didn't I tell you?" said the lawyer, when he read it. "Yes--I believe the end is nearer than we think." The letter said that Mrs. Verschoyle would call on Mr. Monteith at the Crown Hotel, Great Marlow, the next day at three o'clock. So, Foster's presentiment was true after all. CHAPTER XXIV. MRS. VERSCHOYLE PAYS A VISIT. Next morning, when Ronald awoke, he was very much exercised in his mind as to the reason of Mrs. Verschoyle's visit, and wondered what she wanted to see him about. "I wonder if she wants me to marry Carmela?" he thought; "of course, if she's in love with Vassalla, she'll be only too anxious to get Carmela disposed of. She did not commit the murder, or she wouldn't be such a fool as to come to England." When he finished dressing, Mr. Monteith went downstairs into the dining-room, a pleasant apartment that opened, by French windows, on to the quaint old garden with the red-brick walls. He lighted a cigarette and walked slowly up and down waiting for Foster to come to breakfast, and was speedily joined by that gentleman.