"My dear, people with epilepsy never recover," rebuked Dora seriously, "and I wonder that the man dared to ask you to marry him, seeing what he suffered from. What a terrible thing to have a husband with fits." "Are you sure that it was a fit?" asked Bella, trying to salve her conscience with the idea that Durgo had nothing to do with the matter--a vain attempt. "My dear, am I sure that the hair grows on my head? Of course, I am sure. The man himself explained how he fell, just as he clutched at the bell. He hit his poor head against the iron fender--you know, dear, one of those old-fashioned kitchen fenders, now out of date. It's a mercy there was no fire in the grate, or he would have been burnt to death. Why, a cousin of mine once"--and Dora went off into a long and wearisome tale of a member of her family who had suffered in the same way. When the little old school-mistress returned to her duties, Bella sat down to consider things. On the face of it, Durgo had done nothing, and Silas really might suffer from fits. But as he had never fallen before, and as Bella knew that Durgo would stop at nothing to get the papers, which she believed existed, she began to believe that the fall was by design and not by accident. This belief taking full possession of her, she longed feverishly to see the negro, and to ask questions. But, although she watched for quite two hours at the window, he never appeared. Then--as her nerves were strung up nearly to snapping pitch--she determined to call round at Cyril's lodgings and tell him of her interview with the black man. For the moment, she was unwilling to do this, as she guessed that Cyril would be angry. Still, as it was more or less certain that Durgo himself would tell her lover--always supposing the papers existed and had been obtained--Bella thought it would be wiser to be first in the field with her story. Besides, in any case, she would have to confess to Cyril, so why not now? The only chance of getting at the truth of the matter of the murder lay in herself and Durgo and Cyril working amicably together, and in keeping nothing back from one another. There was a certain amount of risk in going to Cyril's lodgings, as his landlady, Mrs. Block, was one of the most notorious gossips in the village. She would be certain to talk of the visit, and to make unkind comments on the fact of a young lady choosing to visit a bachelor without a chaperon. And a chaperon Bella could not have, since she wished no one else to be present during her conversation with Cyril. A third party would mean that she would be unable to speak plainly and all knowledge of the case--inner knowledge that is--must be confined to herself, her lover, and to the negro. It would never do to let the outside world know of the means they were taking to arrive at the truth, and a chaperon might easily play the part of a she-Judas.