"That being the case, it is clear that my reputation for discretion is unassailable. You see the force of that argument, my lord?" "Certainly," replied Cyril wearily. "Anything, therefore, which I may discover during the course of this investigation, you may rest assured will be kept absolutely secret." He paused a moment. "You can, therefore, confide in me without fear," continued the detective. Cyril was surprised and a little startled. What did the man know? "What makes you think I have anything to confide?" he asked. "It is quite obvious, my lord, that you are holding something back--something which would explain your attitude towards Lady Wilmersley." "I don't follow you," replied Cyril, on his guard. "You have given every one to understand that you have never seen her ladyship. You take up a stranger's cause very warmly, my lord." "I trust I shall always espouse the cause of every persecuted woman." "But how are you sure that she was persecuted? Every one praises his lordship's devotion to her. He gave her everything she could wish for except liberty. If she was insane, his conduct deserves great praise." "But I am sure she is not." "But you yourself urged me to secure her as soon as possible because you were afraid she might do further harm," Judson reminded him. "That was before I heard Douglas's testimony. He has seen her daily for three years and swears she is sane." "And the opinion of an ignorant servant is sufficient to make you condemn his lordship without further proof?" Cyril moved uneasily. "If Lady Wilmersley is perfectly sane, it seems to me incredible that she did not manage to escape years ago. A note dropped out of her carriage would have brought the whole countryside to her rescue. Why, she had only to appeal to this very same butler, who is convinced of her sanity, and Lord Wilmersley could not have prevented her from leaving the castle. Public opinion would have protected her." "That is true," acknowledged Cyril, "but her spirit may have been broken." "What was there to break it? We hear only of his lordship's almost excessive devotion. No, my lord, I can't help thinking that you are judging both Lord and Lady Wilmersley by facts of which I am ignorant." Cyril did not know what to answer. He had at first championed Lady Wilmersley because he had believed her to be his _protégée_, but now that it had been proved that she was not, why was he still convinced that she had in some way been a victim of her husband's cruelty? He had to acknowledge that beyond a vague distrust of his cousin he had not only no adequate reason, but no reason at all, for his suspicions.