It seemed absurd, no doubt, but that woman might be taking a hand against the family fortunes. The last occasion was bad enough, but this was many times worse. In the circumstances, as he pointed out, nothing could exceed the bad taste of this intrusion into a deserted house. "She may not have known it," Mrs. Gordon said quietly. "Who knows but that she had discovered some plot against us and had come to warn us? Perhaps the enemy divined her intentions--hence the accident." "But was it an accident?" Geoffrey asked. "Something mysterious, like everything that occurs to us," his wife replied. "At any rate, she is breathing regularly and quietly now, and her skin is moist and cool. Ralph said he had seen something like it in India before. He is convinced that she will be all right in the morning. Don't be angry, father." Rupert Ravenspur constrained himself to smile. "I will not forget what is due to my position and my hospitality, my dear," he said. "After Geoffrey's miraculous escape, after the heavy cloud of sorrow so unexpectedly raised, I cannot feel it in my heart to be angry with anybody. How did you manage to get away, Geoffrey?" Geoffrey told his tale again. It was not nice to be compelled to invent facts in the face of an admiring family; but then the truth could not have been told without betraying Tchigorsky and blowing all his delicate schemes to the winds. He was not sorry when he had finished. Marion wiped the tears from her eyes. "It was Providence," she said. "Nothing more nor less." "Little doubt of it," Gordon murmured. "Geoff, have you any suspicions?" "I know who did it, if that is what you mean," Geoffrey said, "and so does Marion." The girl started. Her nerves were in such a pitiable condition that any little thing set them vibrating like the strings of a rudely handled harp. "If I did I should have spoken," she said. "Then you have not guessed?" Geoffrey smiled. "The masts and the sculls were sawn by a girl in a blue dress and red tam-o'-shanter cap. The girl who is so like----" He did not complete the sentence; there was something in Marion's speaking eyes that asked him not to do so. Why he could not tell; but there was nothing to be gained by what was little less than a breach of confidence. "What does it mean, Marion?" Ravenspur asked. "Geoffrey and I saw such a girl not long before Geoff set out on his eventful voyage," Marion explained quietly. All the fear had gone out of her eyes; she met the gaze of the speaker tranquilly. "She passed me as I was painting; I have been close to her once before. But I don't understand why Geoff is so certain that the mysterious visitor tried to drown him." "I've no proof," Geoffrey replied. "It is merely an instinct." As a matter of fact, he had plenty of proof. Had he not seen the girl hastening away from his boat? Had he not seen her return after the boat had been beached and mourn over the wreck like some creature suffering from deep remorse?