"You mean to marry her to foil van Heerden, and after--to dissolve the marriage?" asked the lawyer, shaking his head. "I don't like that solution, Beale--I tell you frankly, I don't like it. You're a good man and I have every faith in you, but if I consented, even though I were confident that you would play fair, which I am, I should feel that I had betrayed John Millinborn's trust. It isn't because it is you, my son," he said kindly enough, "but if you were the Archangel Gabriel I'd kick at that plan. Marriage is a difficult business to get out of once you are in it, especially in this country." Beale did not interrupt the older man. "Right, and now if you've finished I'll tell you my scheme," he said, "as I see it there's only a ghost of a chance of our saving this girl from marriage. I've done my best and we--McNorton and I--have taken all the facts before a judge this morning. We got a special interview with the idea of securing a warrant for van Heerden's arrest. But there is no evidence to convict him on any single charge. We cannot connect him with the disappearance of Miss Cresswell, and although I pointed out that van Heerden admits that he knows where the girl is, the judge said, fairly I thought, that there was no law which compelled a man to divulge the address of his fiancee to one who was a possible rival. The girl is of an age when she can do as she wishes, and as I understand the matter you have no legal status as a guardian." "None," said James Kitson, "that is our weak point. I am merely the custodian of her money. Officially I am supposed to be ignorant of the fact that Oliva Cresswell is Oliva Predeaux, the heiress." "Therefore our hands are tied," concluded Beale quietly. "Don't you see that my plan is the only one--but I haven't told you what it is. There's a man, a criminal, this Parson Homo who can help; I am satisfied that he does not know where the girl is--but he'll help for a consideration. As a matter of fact, he was pulled again. I am seeing him this afternoon." Mr. Kitson frowned. "The gunman--how can he help you?" "I will tell you. This man, as I say, is known to the police as Parson Homo. Apparently he is an unfrocked priest, one who has gone under. He still preserves the resemblance to a gentleman"--he spoke slowly and deliberately; "in decent clothes he would look like a parson. I propose that he shall marry me to Miss Cresswell. The marriage will be a fake, but neither the girl nor van Heerden will know this. If my surmise is right, when van Heerden finds she is married he will take no further steps--except, perhaps," he smiled, "to make her a widow. Sooner or later we are bound to get him under lock and key, and then we can tell Miss Cresswell the truth." "In other words, you intend breaking the law and committing a serious offence," said Kitson, shaking his head. "I can't be a party to that--besides, she may not marry you."