Bendham saluted military fashion and took a speedy departure, while his master turned his head in the direction of Vernon. "Tell me all that has happened to you now," he said easily; "it will be some time before the dinner makes its appearance, and I'm on tenterhooks. The deuce, to think that our blackguard friend--for he is that, I swear--should be earning his money as a fortune-teller. It's worse than----" Towton hesitated. "Than my profession of a detective, you would say, Colonel," finished Vernon languidly. "I should rather think so. I assist the law, and Maunders breaks it. But neither profession is tempting to a gentleman." "Oh, hang your profession," said Towton impatiently. "You will soon enter into your kingdom when Sir Edward gives up the ghost. And it's just as well that you have some experience in thief-catching seeing what scoundrels we have to deal with. Maunders, by jove! Now we'll be able to find out how he came to know that Ida wasn't Dimsdale's daughter. No wonder he decided to give her up, seeing that he was after the money. What did he say?" "Nothing. He cleared out of the tent as soon as I discovered his identity." "Where is he now?" demanded the Colonel sharply. "I don't know. That's what I wish to speak to you about. And, to make things quite clear, as I want your opinion, you had better hear the whole story." Towton intimated his desire to be informed of what had taken place, and listened attentively while Vernon detailed all that had happened since Mrs. Crimer had informed him of Diabella's proposed appearance at the bazaar. He ended with a description of his recovering from insensibility in the deserted tent and his subsequent decision to consult the Colonel before-taking any steps. "And my reason for wishing to move quietly is obvious," was the concluding remark of the young man. "Yes! yes! I quite understand. We must keep Miss Corsoon's name and that of Miss Dimsdale out of the papers. By the way, what did this fellow mean by hinting in his confounded fortune-telling at disgrace to someone closely connected with Miss Corsoon? Does he mean her mother or her father?" Vernon felt a trifle confused. In his interest in the recital he had unconsciously let slip more than he had been prepared to impart. Both as a detective and as a gentleman he was bound to keep Lady Corsoon's secret, and as the disclosure of it was not particularly pertinent to the matter in hand he brushed aside Towton's question with a scornful laugh. "Oh, I daresay that was all patter. Maunders knows that I love Lucy and thought to intimidate me by a threat that he had power to force the mother to support his preposterous claim to marry the girl. But after this exposure he will scarcely dare to come forward." "The blackguard," cried the honest Colonel heatedly; "he blackens the character of both man and woman in his endeavours to earn his dirty money. But I thought he was supposed to be at Gerby Hall?"