She sank into a reverie--a deep, unpleasant reverie that compressed her lips and contracted her brow. Suddenly she lifted her head. "He is my husband, after all, Arnold." "To be sure he is." "And therefore--and therefore--there had better be no investigation." "Why?" asked Mr. Ravensworth, scarcely above his breath. "Because he does not wish it," she answered, bending her face downwards. "He forbade me to call in aid, or to suffer it to be called in; and, as I say, he is my husband. Will you stop those men in their search? will you send them away?" "I do not think I have power to do so." "You can forbid them in Lord Level's name. I give you full authority: as he would do, were he capable of acting. Arnold, I _will_ have them out of the house. I _will_." "What is it that you fear from them?" "I fear--I cannot tell you what I fear. They might question me." "And if they did?--you can only repeat to them what you told me." "No, it must not be," she shivered. "I--I--dare not let it be." Mr. Ravensworth paused. "Blanche," he said, in low tones, "have you told me all?" "Perhaps not," she slowly answered. "'Perhaps!'" "There!" she exclaimed, springing up in wild excitement. "I hear those men upstairs, and you stand here idly talking! Order them away in Lord Level's name." Desperately perplexed, Mr. Ravensworth flew to the stairs. The steward, pale and agitated, met him half-way up. "It must not be looked into by the police," he whispered. "Sir, it must not. Will you speak to them? you may have more weight with them than I. Say you are a friend of my lord's. I strongly suspect this is the work of that meddling Macferraty." Arnold Ravensworth moved forward as one in a dream, an under-current of thought asking what all this mystery meant. The steward followed. They found the men in one of the first rooms: not engaged in the examination of its fastenings or its closets (and the whole house abounded in closets and cupboards), but with their heads together, talking in whispers. In answer to Mr. Ravensworth's peremptory demand, made in Lord Level's name, that the search should cease and the house be freed of their presence, they civilly replied that they must not leave, but would willingly retire to the kitchen and there await their superior officer, who was on his road to the house: and they went down accordingly. Mr. Ravensworth returned to the sitting-room to acquaint Lady Level with the fact, but found she had disappeared. In a moment she came in, scared, her hands lifted in dismay, her breath coming in gasps. "Give me air!" she cried, rushing to the window and motioning to have it opened. "I shall faint; I shall die." "What ever is the matter?" questioned Mr. Ravensworth, as he succeeded in undoing the bolt of the window, and throwing up its middle compartment. At that moment a loud ring came to the outer gate. It increased her terror, and she broke into a flood of tears.