"I hope not," he said in an altered tone. "But pretended love-making is always dangerous, you know." "Well," I said, pacing up the old tapestried room and down again, "let's leave love out of the question. What I intend to do is to save Tibbie, and at the same time find out the truth. You, Eric, will help me, won't you?" "With all my heart, my dear chap," he said. "But--well, somehow I have had lately a very faint suspicion of one thing; and that is, I believe Ellice Winsloe is deeply in love with her. I've seen it in his face. If so, you and I have to reckon with him." "How?" "Because as soon as she disappears he'll commence making eager inquiries and trying to trace her. His inquiries may lead him in our direction, don't you see. Besides, it would be awkward if he found you down at Camberwell." I was silent. There was a good deal of truth in what he said. Eric Domville always had a knack of looking far ahead. He was what is vulgarly known as "a far-seeing man." "But don't you think that when I'm a compositor in a well-worn tweed suit and a threadbare overcoat with wages of two pounds a week I'll be beyond the pale and safe from recognition?" "That's all very well, but the working-class are intelligent. They'll easily see through a gentleman's disguise." "I quite agree," I said. "There is no more intelligent class than the working-class in London, or indeed in any of the big cities of the North. It is the working-man who is the back-bone of England, after all. The capitalist may direct and public companies may manoeuvre, but it is the skilled labourer who has made England what she is. Yes, I'm quite with you there. I shall have to exert all my tact if I'm to pass as a printer among working-men. Yet Tibbie's idea that I should be on a morning paper and be out at work at night is an ingenious one, isn't it?" "Ingenious? Why, isn't she one of the very cleverest women in England?" he asked. "I say that she is as unequalled for her ingenuity as for her beauty. Therefore, Wilfrid, have a care. I'll help you--unknown to Tibbie, of course--but I beg of you to be careful. And now let's turn in for an hour or so. We must be astir and alert to-morrow, for our work of fathoming the mystery must commence at once. We must be all ears and eyes. We already hold the honours in our hand, it is true; but much very difficult and dangerous work lies before us." "Never mind," I said. "We must save her, Eric. We must save her at all hazards!" CHAPTER EIGHT. MAINLY ABOUT THE STRANGER. When next morning the tragedy in the wood became known the whole household was agog. It was discussed at the breakfast-table, and Scarcliff, Wydcombe, Ellice Winsloe and myself agreed to walk down to the village and ascertain the facts. Eric remained behind to drive Lady Wydcombe into Chichester as he had arranged on the previous evening.