Her father saw that the girl was thoroughly overwrought. In her present state of mind everything would be exaggerated. He intended to go at once and learn the truth from his sister, but he could not leave Ruth in this plight. Before he went he must soothe her. So, pulling himself together--no easy task, at his age, for he had received a severe shock--he sat down beside the terrified girl and took her hand firmly in his own. "See here, child," he said, "however that book got into Marshall's hands your aunt had nothing to do with it. She did not--she could not have killed Jenner. I know it because she was in this house on the night and at the time of the murder." "Then if she is innocent why didn't she tell me so?" "Well, you know what she is. No doubt she was angry to think you should conceive her capable of such a crime. She will tell me all she knows, if she has any knowledge, which I am inclined to doubt. But I want you to understand, Ruth, that your aunt is innocent, and that her innocence can be proved by me. Under these circumstances, she will not commit suicide, as you appear to think. I will go over and see her at once, and I shall doubtless have a reassuring report to give you when I return. But you must promise not to worry while I am away; and above all things, Ruth, do not tell anyone of this. There may be trouble." "I will say nothing--nothing," panted the girl, pressing her hands against her beating heart. "And, indeed, father, I did not meddle with the matter again. The discovery was thrust upon me. You can trust me, indeed you can." "And you will not make yourself ill with expecting the worst?" "No, no; I promise I will go to my room and lie down." "That's a good girl; and I will walk over at once." "Ride--ride! You don't know what may happen." "Nothing bad, at all events. Yes, I will ride. Now go to your room, dear, and leave me to attend to this." "Yes, father," she said, faintly. She had the utmost belief in his capability of arranging the situation. "But kiss me before you go. I am--I am rather frightened." "Believe me, there is no need for that," said Mr. Cass, with an attempt at a smile. "There is your kiss, now go." Mr. Cass reviewed the whole situation as he rode over to his sister's house. He reflected that Marshall must have told his wife about the bill, for that and the book were, so to speak, inseparable. "In a word," thought Mr. Cass, as he dismounted at the door and gave his horse to a groom, "Marshall did not kill the man himself, but he knows who did. But I'll make Inez tell truth in some way. This is no time to consider her feelings." Following the servant, he went into the stone-coloured drawing-room, and found his sister waiting to receive him. She was dressed in black, without a scrap of white to relieve her funereal aspect. "I did not expect you to come so soon, Sebastian," she said, in her rich, low voice. "But I knew you would come sooner or later."