The girl was sufficiently unhappy in these days. The discovery of the evil by which she was surrounded made her recoil from everyone in terror. All people seemed to have skeletons in their various cupboards, and Beatrice dreaded the chance of becoming friendly with any one else who had a secret. Also, it was pain and anguish to her to stand aside, and know that Maud Orchard possessed Vivian. Of course Maud had returned to London, and Vivian--so he said--had heard nothing about her from the time she had fled with the Obi necklace. All the same this woman, wicked and lawless, was his wife, and, while she lived, Beatrice knew that Vivian could never be anything to her but a friend. Loving him as she did, and in spite of his manifold weaknesses, her heart ached as she thought of the long, dreary, desolate life that necessarily was before her when deprived, by a prior claim, of his society. But recent events had hardened the girl's character, and she grasped her nettle firmly. In other words, she made all arrangements to go to London and see Lady Watson, on the chance of obtaining work. So long as she could earn her living, nothing else seemed to matter. Beatrice felt very unhappy and lonely. What she greatly desired was a confidant. Dinah, being a scatter-brain, and wrapped up in Jerry, was useless, while, owing to the changed circumstances, she could not feel easy in the company of Vivian. Durban, after the short interview she had with him in The Camp, had vanished; for when Beatrice went again to question him still further, she found the place deserted and locked up. Where Durban had gone she did not know, and, needing him as she did, her state of mind was one of wretchedness and foreboding. However, as she greatly desired advice and comfort, she induced Vivian to come to the lonely Camp, and there told him all that Durban had told her. Vivian heard her in silence, and wondered at the queer story. Durban, he thought, was deeper implicated in the doings of the Black Patch Gang than he chose to acknowledge, and he said this to Beatrice after some thought. The girl vigorously refused to believe in the guilt of the man. "Durban has always been my best friend, Vivian," she said, with a look of pain. "How can you accuse him, without evidence?" "It seems to me that there is a great deal of evidence upon which to accuse him," said Paslow grimly. "He had the necklace, and the crime was committed for the sake of the necklace." "No. It was a case of revenge. Alpenny evidently betrayed the Gang in some way, or took more than his fair share of the plunder, therefore he was sentenced to death; and you were used by Durban as the unconscious instrument to give him warning. You saw how terrified old Alpenny was, and how he muttered about the third time. Also, the note he wrote to me was a trick, to give him time to get away. He would have fled, but that he was killed."