Next morning my companion was early astir. He was in fear of Winsloe ascertaining the whereabouts of Sybil, and went forth to keep watch upon him, promising to return again that same evening. Winsloe had well-furnished rooms in King Street, St James's Square, was one of a go-ahead set of men about town, and a member of several of the gayest clubs frequented by the _jeunesse doree_. It was both risky and difficult for me to get down to Neate Street, Camberwell, in my dress as a printer; yet against Eric's advice I succeeded, travelling by a circuitous route to South Bermondsey Station and along the Rotherhithe New Road, in reaching Mr Williams' a little after eleven o'clock. Sybil, looking fresh and neat, was eagerly awaiting me at the window, and when I entered the room she flew across to me, saying in a voice loud enough for the landlady to overhear,-- "Oh! Willie, how very late you are. Been working overtime, I suppose?" "Yes, dear," was my response; and we grinned at each other as we closed the door. "The time passes here awfully slowly," she declared in a low voice. "I thought you were never coming. I shall have to get a few books to read." "I was delayed," I said, taking off my cloth cap and flinging it upon the sofa. "I found Eric Domville awaiting me. He came up from Ryhall to-day and told me some strange news." "Strange news!" she gasped, turning deathly pale and clutching at the back of a chair in order to steady herself. "What--what news?" The truth was instantly plain. Her fear was that the mystery of the unknown had been discovered. I had quite inadvertently struck terror into her heart, for upon her countenance was that same haunted look as on that night when she had left Ryhall in secret. "What Eric has told me concerns Ellice Winsloe," I said, much surprised, and yet allowing her agitation to pass unnoticed. "Ellice Winsloe. Is he--has he come to London?" she gasped, staring at me and starting. "Yes, and more. He knows that you slept the night before last at Harker's. He called to see you an hour after we had left yesterday." "He knows!" she cried in a low, terrified voice. "Ellice knows that I was there! Then he has followed me--he--he means to carry out his threat!" "What threat?" "Ah, no. I--I'm mad, Wilfrid. I--I don't know what I'm saying!" she cried, pushing her hair from her brow with both her hands and pacing up and down the room. "But you will help me--won't you?" she implored, halting before me and looking me straight in the face. "Help you--of course," I said. "But I confess I can't understand. This man only proposed marriage to you a fortnight ago." "I know. I know. And I refused him. Ah! Wilfrid. I would rather kill myself than marry that man!" "Then you know something concerning him that is not in his favour?" "I know a great deal. I often wonder why Jack and he are such intimate friends." "He's rich, you said, and Lady Scarcliff approved of him."