Anthony stared at her open-mouthed. "Do you mean to say that you dressed as a man?" he asked, aghast. "Yes. It was necessary to learn Ferdy's secrets, so I utilised my resemblance to him to find out what I wanted. No one discovered that I was Clarice Baird, save Zara." "Oh, Lord!" Anthony clutched his head. "She will tell everyone." "No, I have made that right. I know too much about Zara for her to betray me. I am quite safe. Only Zara knows, and Mrs. Rebson knows, and now you know. I am absolutely safe." "But what made you do such a mad thing?" "I have told you--to save Ferdy." "But I could have gone up, and----" "No," interrupted Clarice, imperiously. "Zara would have laughed at you. I did what I did, with a full knowledge of what I was doing. You must forgive me, Anthony, and I think you will, when you learn what terrible things I have discovered." "Of course, I am somewhat annoyed," said Ackworth, slowly, "at least, I would be, were you an ordinary woman. But you are so clever, and so well able to look after yourself, that I forgive you this time. But I must ask you not to masquerade again as Ferdy." "I promise that," she said, with a sigh. "Ferdy is in such danger that you must help me." "Ferdy in danger? What sort of danger?" "Let me begin at the beginning, and go on to the end. Don't interrupt, Anthony." And then she related her adventures. Ackworth held his peace until she detailed her recognition of Osip, when he jumped with a muttered oath. "Why did you not have him arrested?" he cried; "everything would then have been discovered." "Yes--even to the fact that Ferdy is implicated in these terrible crimes," said Clarice, sarcastically. Ackworth jumped again. Her revelations were getting on his nerves. "What do you mean?" he asked, irritably. "Let me go on from where I saw Osip," said Clarice, and continued her recital up to the point when she fainted in Ferdy's bedroom with the stamp in her hand. "Now, what do you say?" she asked, breathlessly. "I don't know what to say," muttered Ackworth, much agitated. "It looks as though Ferdy knew something. Yet if he was locked in his room, he could not have murdered Horran." "Oh, I don't for one moment believe that he did. But, having the stamp, he might have impressed the Purple Fern on----" "Nonsense," interrupted the soldier, violently. "He was drunk and incapable--he was locked in." Clarice looked down. "Anthony," she said, in a pained voice, "I have tried to fight against my doubts of Ferdy, but they will come. He is so weak, so tricky, so deceitful, and so carried away by his own selfish impulses, that he is capable of all things." "Save murder. Ferdy is a fool, I grant you. But a murderer--no." "I never accused him of murder," said the girl, faintly, "but he may be an accomplice." "That's just as bad." "Not when we know that Ferdy is so weak a man. Osip is strong-willed and may have coerced Ferdy into stamping Uncle Henry's forehead, after the death."