It was the Squire! I knew it without a doubt. If the orphan had devoted an hour to her description, she could not have been more apt. In some mysterious way he had tracked me to my lair. I might have known he would do it! He was not the sort of man to be daunted by a closed door. He would put out the whole of his big, indomitable force, till by hook or by crook it flew open, and the secret was revealed. Mercifully, however, it was so far only Miss Harding whom he had discovered; Evelyn Wastneys still eluded his grasp, and if I could summon enough nerve and courage to carry through one final interview, all might yet be well. It was useless to say I would not see him. He would simply wait until I did. The only result would be to arouse his suspicions. I rose slowly and confronted myself in the glass. The disguise was good, but was it good enough? I hastily opened my "make up" case, and accentuated the lines which the expert had shown were most telling--the curve of the upper lip, the kink in the eyebrow, the long wrinkle from nose to chin. I wrapped my Paisley scarf round my shoulders, took my courage in both hands, and opened the door. I decided to go into the dining-room, draw the casement curtains, seat myself with my back to the light, and--send the orphan to summon him to my presence! I was nervous and scared, but--let me confess it--the moment was not without a fearful joy! My heart was beating with quick, excited throbs. It was the oddest, most inexplicable thing, but I--I really wanted to see him. If a wish could have spirited him away, I could not have brought myself to breathe it. It seemed suddenly as if, unknown to myself, I had missed him, been missing him for a long, long time-- The door opened and he came in. CHAPTER NINETEEN. A DOUBLE EXCITEMENT. He wore a dark suit, and carried a silk hat in his hand. The conventional dress made a great difference in his appearance; it always does when one is accustomed to see a man in the easy, becoming garb of the country. He looked older, more imposing; in the dim light it seemed to me that he was thinner too, had lost some of his deep tan. I rose from my chair and bowed. He bowed too, and said:-- "Miss Harding, I believe?" Long might he believe it! I waved him to a chair, and said suavely, "Pray sit down." "I--er--I called to ask if you would be kind enough to give me Miss Wastneys' address. I believe her letters are sent to this address." "May I ask who gave you that information?" "I'm sorry; but I'm not at liberty to say. It was a discovery which has given me considerable difficulty to make." "Excuse me, Mr--er--" I stopped short with an admirable air of inquiry. "My name is Maplestone." "Thank you! I presume, Mr Maplestone, that you are aware of Miss Wastneys' wish to keep her address private for the moment. Do you consider yourself justified in acting in direct opposition to her wishes?"