“No! it is you whom I wanted to see. I may not be able to talk to you alone at your house, and, besides, your father might not allow me to enter it. Will you come for a short walk with me? There is a way through the fields a little higher up. I have something to say to you.” I suffered myself to be easily persuaded. There was something positively masterful about the firm ring of his voice, the strong touch of his fingers, the level, yet anxious glance of his keen, grey eyes. Anyhow I went with him. He appeared to know the way perfectly. Soon we were walking slowly along a country road, and Eastminster lay in the valley behind us. “Where is Miss Berdenstein?” I asked him. He looked at me with a gleam of something in his eyes which puzzled me. It was half kindly, half humorous. Then in an instant I understood. The girl had told him. Something decided had happened then between them. Perhaps she had told him everything. “I believe,” he answered, “that Miss Berdenstein has gone to London. Don’t you feel that you owe me a very humble plea for forgiveness?” I looked at him cautiously. “Why?” His lips relaxed a little. He was half smiling. “Did you not make a deliberate plot against me in conjunction with Miss Berdenstein?” “I am not sure that I understand you,” I answered. “I certainly did not originate any plot against you.” “Nay, but you fell in with it. I know all about it, so you may just as well confess. Miss Berdenstein was to leave off making inconvenient inquiries about Philip Maltabar, and you were to be as rude to me as you could. Wasn’t that something like the arrangement? You see I know all about it. I have had the benefit of a full confession.” “If you know,” I remarked, “you do not need to ask me.” “That is quite true,” he answered, opening a gate and motioning me to precede him. “But at the same time I thought that it would be rather--well, piquant to hear the details from you.” “You are very ungenerous,” I said, coldly. “I hope not,” he answered. “Do you know I only discovered this diabolical affair yesterday, and----” “Mr. Deville!” He turned round and looked at me. I was standing in the middle of the path, and I daresay I looked as angry as I felt.