“I wish you would take my advice, Miss Ffolliot,” he said. “Take the path through the plantation home, and don’t let your father see you leaving here. It would be better, would it not, Adelaide?” he added. She looked at me. “Yes, it would be better,” she said. “Do you mind? You will be at home as soon as he is.” I could not but admit that the advice was good, bearing in mind my father’s words when he found me there only a few days before. Yet it galled me that it should have been offered. What was this secret shared between these three of which I was ignorant? I declared to myself that I would know as soon as my father and I were alone together. I would insist upon all these things being made clear to me. I would bear it no longer, I was resolved on that. But in the meantime I was helpless. “Very well,” I answered; “perhaps you are right, I will go by the footpath.” I left the room abruptly. Mr. Deville opened the front door for me, and hesitated with his cap in his hand. I waved him away. “I will go alone,” I said. “It is quite light.” “As you will,” he answered, shortly. “Good-night.” He turned on his heel and re-entered the room. I crossed the road with soft footsteps. At the opening of the plantation I paused. My father was in the road below walking wearily and leaning upon his stick. At my sudden standstill a twig beneath my feet snapped short. A sudden change seemed to transform his face. He stopped short and turned round with the swift, eager movement of a young man. His hand fumbled for a moment in the pocket of his long clerical coat, and reappeared clutching something which flashed like steel in the dull light. He held it at arm’s length, looking eagerly around, peering forward in my direction, but unable to see me owing to the dark shadows of the trees beneath which I stood. But I on the other hand could see his every movement; in the half-light his figure stood out in such marvellous distinctness against the white road and the low, grey line of sky beyond. I could see him, and I could see what it was he carried in his hand. It was a small, shining revolver.