"Ah, no!" she cried, unable longer to restrain her tears, and burying her pale, beautiful face upon his arm. "I--I was foolish to have spoken of it," she sobbed brokenly: "I ought to have kept it to myself. It is--it's the one thing that I can never reveal to you--to you of all men!" CHAPTER XVII DESCRIBES A FRENCHMAN'S VISIT "Monsieur Goslin, Sir Henry," Hill announced, entering his master's room one morning a fortnight later, just as the blind man was about to descend to breakfast. "He's in the library, sir." "Goslin!" exclaimed the Baronet, in great surprise. "I'll go to him at once; and Hill, serve breakfast for two in the library, and tell Miss Gabrielle that I do not wish to be disturbed this morning." "Very well, Sir Henry;" and the man bowed and went down the broad oak staircase. "Goslin here, without any announcement!" exclaimed the Baronet, speaking to himself. "Something must have happened. I wonder what it can be." He tugged at his collar to render it more comfortable; and then, with a groping hand on the broad balustrade, he felt his way down the stairs and along the corridor to the big library, where a stout, grey-haired Frenchman came forward to greet him warmly, after carefully closing the door. "Ah, _mon cher ami_!" he began; and, speaking in French, he inquired eagerly after the Baronet's health. He was rather long-faced, with beard worn short and pointed, and his dark, deep-set eyes and his countenance showed a fund of good humour. "This visit is quite unexpected," exclaimed Sir Henry. "You were not due till the 20th." "No; but circumstances have arisen which made my journey imperative, so I left the Gare du Nord at four yesterday afternoon, was at Charing Cross at eleven, had half-an-hour to catch the Scotch express at King's Cross, and here I am." "Oh, my dear Goslin, you always move so quickly! You're simply a marvel of alertness." The other smiled, and, with a shrug of the shoulders, said, "I really don't know why I should have earned a reputation as a rapid traveller, except, perhaps, by that trip I made last year, from Paris to Constantinople, when I remained exactly thirty-eight minutes in the Sultan's capital. But I did my business there, nevertheless, even though I got through quicker than _messieurs les touristes_ of the most estimable Agence Cook." "You want a wash, eh?" "Ah, no, my friend. I washed at the hotel in Perth, where I took my morning coffee. When I come to Scotland I carry no baggage save my tooth-brush in my pocket, and a clean collar across my chest, its ends held by my braces."