"Osip says that--and how comes it that you have seen Osip?" "I saw him by appointment at the Shah's Rooms last night," said Clarice, boldly; "and there I also saw you and Mr. Barras." "What of that?" said Jerce, coolly. "I have a right to go to any place I choose, I should hope. So you saw Osip, and you did not have him arrested for the murder of your guardian." "You forget," said Anthony, swiftly, "you have just accused Ferdinand of that crime, Sir Daniel." "And I do still. Ferdinand is Osip's accomplice. Both of them are concerned in the matter. And I am accused falsely. There is no one can prove that I am guilty in any way." A knock came to the door, and Mrs. Rebson made her appearance. "Will you please to come out here, Miss?" she said, "there is a gentleman wants to see you." Sir Daniel wriggled uneasily, and went a shade whiter. But he still maintained his defiant attitude; while Clarice, wondering who had come to visit her, and anticipating fresh trouble with a sinking heart, went into the hall, closing the drawing-room door after her. Here she found Mr. Clarke, looking more wild and wan than ever, and very much agitated. On seeing her, he came up at once, while Mrs. Rebson discreetly withdrew to her own room. "Is it true that Sir Daniel Jerce is here?" asked Clarke, abruptly. "Yes, I sent for him to clear up things. Why did you not come in?" "I don't wish to see Sir Daniel," said Clarke, nervously; "he has behaved very badly to me. He threatened to tell about something connected with a--a--a--a relative," ended Clarke, evasively. Clarice knew as well as if he had spoken openly that the vicar referred to his scapegoat son. However, it was not her aim to frighten Clarke away by pretending to know too much, so she merely picked up some newly arrived letters from the hall table, as she replied, "You must come in and face Sir Daniel Jerce," she said quietly; "We are bringing him to book." "Bringing him to book. What do you mean?" "Go in and you'll hear," said Clarice, and was about to usher the vicar into the room, when she caught sight of the writing on one of the letters. "Go in--go in," she said, hurriedly. "I'll follow shortly." Rather perplexed, and not at all anxious to face Jerce, the vicar approached the drawing-room door with hesitating steps. There he glanced back, and saw Clarice hurriedly reading a letter, with a white face and an agitated manner. For the moment, he was inclined to return, but gathering his courage together, he boldly opened the door, and saw Sir Daniel Jerce, facing Ferdy, defiantly. "You can say what you like," were the words which struck the parson's ear, "but you know that I am as innocent of Horran's death as you are guilty. You stabbed him, you----" "No!" cried Clarke, coming forward rapidly. "What do you mean, Sir Daniel, by accusing this young man of such a crime?"