"Gad," cried Bubbles, who had the sharpest eyes of anyone; "it's Monteith himself. Speak of the Devil----" "Hold your tongue," said Pat, "don't be personal." It was Ronald, looking happy and jolly in his flannels, quite a different being from the gloomy youth of the previous week. He soon brought his light little craft to shore, and sprang on to the green turf, to be welcomed. "My dear lad," said Sir Mark, "I am delighted to see you, especially as your arrival is so unexpected." "How did you find us out?" asked Carmela, giving him her hand. "Oh, easily enough," replied Ronald, gaily. "I came down to Maidenhead, drove over to Bellfield, and finding it was deserted, learnt from the servants where you were, so here I am." "Hurrah for that," cried Pat; "is drink a curse?" "Egad, I'm not sure. I'll try, if you've no objection," said Ronald. Whereat, Mr. Ryan grinned, and handed his friend a glass and a bottle, all to himself. The luncheon was resumed, and then the party began to break up into little groups. Pat, of course, going with Miss Lester, while Bell went under the wing of Bubbles, though she secretly sighed for the society of Gerald Foster. So, in a short time, Ronald found himself alone with Carmela, whose eyes turned on him with eager expectation. "Well," she asked, "is there anything new?" "Yes; I've seen your sister." "And she is innocent?" "Yes, and moreover, has told us who committed the crime." Carmela was startled. "Does she know who did it?" "She says so. Your cousin!" "What, Matteo!" rising to her feet. "Oh, impossible!" "Of course that's what he says, also," said Ronald, shrugging his shoulders; "but your sister accused him and he has been arrested." "Will they hang him?" "If they prove him guilty, no doubt; but first, they must prove the case." "I cannot believe it of my cousin, he had no motive." "Mrs. Verschoyle says he had--that he was in love with her." "Yes, he was, seven years ago," said Carmela, not without a certain feminine spite, "but that would not have induced him to kill poor Leopold Verschoyle now. Maltese gentlemen don't avenge themselves in such a cowardly way." "Well, Vassalla says he can prove his innocence, but there's one thing to be said, the whole secret of Verschoyle's death lies between your sister and Vassalla." "How on earth will it all end?" said Carmela, in a bewildered tone; "but," with a sudden thought, "if Vassalla is guilty I am not bound to marry him now." "Of course not," said Ronald, taking one of her hands, "I want you to marry me." She snatched her hand away. "How can you talk so at such a time?" she cried, her face flushing. "Because I love you," he replied, "and I want to have the assurance from your lips that you love me." "How can you marry the cousin of a possible criminal?" "I don't care a bit about that: I want to marry you." "Wait till this affair is ended."