"I mean that a crafty devil like Hokar doesn't take walks for the benefit of his health, and that he may be tampering with the dam--perhaps by order of Francis Hest." "In that case, why not have the dam examined to-day?" "There is no immediate hurry. Hokar will find it no easy task to break down that gigantic wall, if that is his aim. Besides, the Vicar is calling this afternoon to pay his respects to Lady Corsoon. I wish to have a chat with him on the subject of Hest, and to learn what he thinks of him." "What can he think, but that Hest is a genuine philanthropist?" "I daresay Hest is one person here and another in London. However, it will do no harm to collect what information we can concerning him. To-morrow you can come with Lady Corsoon and her daughter to see Ida, and I shall go also. Afterwards you can inspect the dam." "Won't you come, too?" asked Vernon. "No. The fact is, I intend to ride to Gatehead to-morrow afternoon. I shall leave you and the ladies at Gerby Hall. My steward wants to see me about some property which requires looking after in one of the near villages. It will be easy for me to ride there and look into the matter myself. I can trust you to amuse my guests." Thus it was arranged, and Vernon put all questions concerning Hokar and Bolly Dam out of his head. Lucy managed to evade the watchfulness of her mother when that good lady fell asleep, and the lovers had a stolen half hour all to themselves until the arrival of the vicar. After that came tea and gossip, and a very pleasant afternoon ended gleefully. But the most important event of the next twelve hours happened after dinner, when the Colonel was called out of the drawing-room to see a visitor. He left Vernon to amuse Lady Corsoon and her daughter and took his way to the library, where the visitor--who had not sent in any name--was waiting for him. To Towton's surprise, the stranger proved to be Frances Hest. "My dear lady, why did you not join us in the drawing-room?" he asked hospitably. "I'm sure the surprise would be a pleasant one." "Not to Lady Corsoon," said Frances quietly. "She is not over fond of me. Besides, I have come to see you privately and on a most important matter." "Ida," cried the Colonel anxiously. "Is she ill?" "No, no! Set your mind at rest about Ida. She has not changed since you saw her yesterday. She doesn't know that I am here, nor does any one else; not even your servant, as I gave no name when I was admitted. Is the door closed?" and she cast a searching, nervous look around. "This room is perfectly private," said Towton, noting that she looked anxious and haggard. "Nothing mentioned here can be heard. I hope nothing is wrong." Frances sat down and sighed heavily. "This much is wrong," she said with a gloomy look, "that I have learned the truth about my brother." "The truth----"