"I don't know. It does not in the least matter. As things stand at present, the police will not permit anybody to be in the house except one or two like ourselves. Until their investigations are complete and they have gathered all their evidence, nobody will be permitted to sleep in the house. The men you speak of will be treated just like anybody else. It seems as if Fate were fighting on your side, Mary. You have no occasion to fear Horace Mayfield now." Mary smiled faintly. It was evident that she was deeply troubled about something. "I think I understand you," she said presently. "The loss of the house would have been a dreadful grief to me. But, still, these natural misfortunes happen to all of us, and I daresay I could have suffered the loss as well as most people. And the blow would have possessed many compensations. To be free from Horace Mayfield, ah!" Mary finished her speech with a deep, long-drawn sigh. But the whiteness did not leave her face, the look of fear still lurked in her blue eyes. Ralph took a step forward and bent down so that he could whisper his words into Mary's ear. "Your pride would have carried you through that," he said. "At the same time, your position had driven you almost to despair. You know more than you care to say, Mary, you know more than the rest of us how the fire came about. Can you look me in the face and deny it? Are you going to tell me the truth?" Mary's face flamed with anger. She stepped back, and her passionate eyes flashed in Ralph's direction. He could see the crimson mounting to her temples. "Perhaps you would like to accuse me of the crime?" she asked breathlessly. "Perhaps you would like to suggest that I did it to save a scandal? That I risked my own life, and the lives of other people, because I was afraid of a paltry disgrace? Is there anything else that you would like to imply, Mr. Darnley?" "You are talking nonsense," Ralph said coldly, "and you know it. I am not insinuating anything of the kind. But you know quite well who the culprit is." Suddenly Mary's manner changed. She grew quiet and docile. Ralph could see that her lips were trembling, and that she found it hard to keep back the tears. "Forgive me," she whispered. "Think how hard I am tried, how hard it all is for me. If I were a man I should probably take a more rational view of the case. Remember how my whole heart and soul are wrapped up in this house. I could fight to save it from contamination as a mother would try to shield an erring son. If I lost it I should die!" "You would not," Ralph said. "If, by any trick of fortune, Dashwood Hall passed out of your possession, it would be the very best thing that ever happened to you. If you had to go out into the world to get your own living it would be the making of your character. It would bring out all the natural nobility of your nature--you would look back to the past with remorse. Of that I am certain."