Believing the girl to be innocent, he wanted as few people as possible to know the nature of the cloud which hung over her. Peter's loyalty, he knew, he could count on, that had been often and fully proved; but his discretion was another matter. Peter was no actor. If he had anything to conceal, even his silence became so portentous of mystery that it could not fail to arouse the curiosity of the most unsuspicious. No, he must think of some simple story which would satisfy Peter as to the propriety of his conduct and yet which, if it leaked out, would not be to the girl's discredit. "You must have been surprised to hear me give my name to the young lady you saw at the station," he began tentatively. "Yes, sir." Peter's expression relaxed. "Her story is a very sad one." So much at any rate must be true, thought poor Cyril with some satisfaction. "Yes, sir." Peter was waiting breathlessly for the sequel. "I don't feel at liberty to repeat what she told me. You understand that, don't you?" "Certainly, sir," agreed Peter, but his face fell. "So all I can tell you is that she was escaping from a brute who horribly ill-treated her. Of course I offered to help her." "Of course," echoed Peter. "Unfortunately she was taken ill before she had told me her name or who the friends were with whom she was seeking refuge. What was I to do? If the police heard that a young girl had been found unconscious on the train, the fact would have been advertised far and wide so as to enable them to establish her identity, in which case the person from whom she was hiding would have taken possession of her, which he has a legal right to do--so she gave me to understand." Crichton paused quite out of breath. He was doing beautifully. Peter was swallowing his tale unquestionably--and really, you know, for an inexperienced liar that was a reasonably probable story. "So you see," he continued, "it was necessary for her to have a name and mine was the only one which would not provoke further inquiry." "Begging your pardon, sir, but I should 'ave thought that Smith or Jones would 'ave done just as well." "Certainly not. The authorities would have wanted further particulars and would at once have detected the fraud. No one will ever know that I lent an unfortunate woman for a few hours the protection of my name, and there is no one who has the right to object to my having done so--except the young lady herself." "Yes, sir, quite so." "On the other hand, on account of the position I am in at present, it is most important that I should do nothing which could by any possibility be misconstrued." "Yes, sir, certainly, sir." "And so I told the doctor that the young lady had better not be called by my name while she is at the home and so--and so--well--in fact--I gave her yours. I hope you don't mind?" "My name?" gasped Peter in a horrified voice. "Yes, you see you haven't got a wife, have you?" "Certainly not, sir!"