I felt he had more in his mind than appeared, and I obeyed; growing ashamed now of my panic, and looking forward with no very pleasant feelings to hearing the story narrated. But when we reached the house, and found Master Bertie and the Duchess in the parlor waiting for us--they rose startled at sight of my face--he bade me leave that out, but tell the rest of the story. I complied, describing how I had seen Dymphna meet Clarence, and what I had observed to pass between them. The astonishment of my hearers may be imagined. "The point is very simple," said our host coolly, when I had, in the face of many exclamations and some incredulity, completed the tale; "it is just this! The woman certainly was not Dymphna. In the first place, she would not be out at night. In the second place, what could she know of your Clarence, an Englishman and a stranger? In the third place, I will warrant she has been in her room all the evening. Then if Master Francis was mistaken in the woman, may he not have been mistaken in the man? That is the point." "No," I said boldly. "I only saw her back. I saw his face." "Certainly, that is something," Master Lindstrom admitted reluctantly. "But how many times had you seen him before?" put in my lady very pertinently. "Only once." In answer to that I could do no more than give further assurance of my certainty on the point. "It was the man I saw in the boat at Greenwich," I declared positively. "Why should I imagine it?" "All the same, I trust you have," she rejoined. "For, if it was indeed that arch scoundrel, we are undone." "Imagination plays us queer tricks sometimes," Master Lindstrom said, with a smile of much meaning. "But come, lad, I will ask Dymphna, though I think it useless to do so. For whether you are right or wrong as to your friend, I will answer for it you are wrong as to my daughter." He was rising to go from them for the purpose, when Mistress Anne opened the door and came in. She looked somewhat startled at finding us all in conclave. "I thought I heard your voices," she explained timidly, standing between us and the door. "I could not sleep." She looked indeed as if that were so. Her eyes were very bright, and there was a bright spot of crimson in each cheek. "What is it?" she went on abruptly, looking hard at me and shutting her lips tightly. There was so much to explain that no one had taken it in hand to begin. "It is just this," the Duchess said, opening her mouth with a snap. "Have you been with Dymphna all the time?" "Yes, of course," was the prompt answer. "What is she doing?" "Doing?" Mistress Anne repeated in surprise. "She is asleep." "Has she been out since nightfall?" the Duchess continued. "Out of her room? Or out of the house?"