Mona coloured, and turned aside her face, rather embarrassed by the impetuous outbreak of her lover's friend. "Both English gentlemen and English ladies held aloof when I was in danger," she said simply, "so you can understand how much I prize the friendship both of Ned, and of Mr. Martaban here, seeing that they never believed that I was guilty." "No one could believe that," cried Prelice, still impetuous, and throwing his usual discretion to the winds; "the moment I set eyes on your face I knew that you were innocent." Miss Chent coloured again, and rather retreated from the confidential attitude she had assumed. Prelice was going ahead too fast, and her womanly nature, in spite of occult training, was taking alarm. "I must say that, seeing you did not know me, the belief was somewhat rash," she rejoined coldly; "however, I thank you." "And you will allow me to help you?" asked Prelice eagerly, but timidly. "Help Miss Chent," said the lawyer, looking keenly at the young man's glowing face. "In what way?" Prelice laid down his cup, crossed his legs, and delivered himself of his opinion. It was just as well that both Mona and Martaban should learn of his determination to enter into their lives. "Everyone is delighted, with few exceptions," he said somewhat incoherently to the girl, "that you have been acquitted. But some insist that you must be guilty. Forgive me for inflicting pain," he added rapidly, "but it is necessary, so that you may entirely understand me. You are safe from the law, Miss Chent, but, with some idiots, your character is not yet clear. Also Ned, in spite of the absurdity of the thing, may be accused of making away with Steve Agstone in your interests. In order to set everything right it is necessary for us to make certain who killed your uncle, and who killed the sailor." "But Agstone killed Sir Oliver," said Martaban quickly; "the evidence of the paper-cutter, which----" "Quite so, quite so," interrupted Lord Prelice hurriedly, and skating quickly over this thin ice, "but we can't prove Agstone's guilt, beyond all doubt, without further evidence. For Miss Chent's sake, the truth--whatever it may be--must be made public." "And what do you think is the truth?" demanded Martaban, puzzled. Prelice, bearing Mrs. Rover in mind, shuffled again. "I am not prepared to give an opinion off-hand," he replied politely. "But what I wish you and Miss Chent to understand is, that Ned Shepworth has accepted my services towards hunting down the author, or authors, of this double crime. I wish Miss Chent, if she will, to accept them also." "Willingly and with gratitude," said Mona, extending her slim hand.