"It was written only an hour before he died," I added. "Written, I suppose, after his guests had left, eh?" asked Shaw, his face a little hard and changed, I thought. "He mentioned me. What did he say? What did he tell you?" "Nothing," I replied, sorry that I had spoken so injudiciously. "Poor Guy didn't like me, I fear," declared my host quietly. "He didn't know what you know, and hence he viewed me with suspicion. I couldn't very well tell him the truth--or he would have cast poor little Asta aside." "I quite understand," I said. "Well, what did he say against me?" he asked, looking at me strangely with those small, mysterious eyes of his. "Nothing whatever." "You are deceiving me. I know what he has told you. He has revealed to you something--something--" "He has revealed nothing," I declared. "Why should he?" But the man lying back in his chair drew at his cigar hard and contemplatively, a strange smile overspreading his broad features. I saw that he was unconvinced, and that upon his countenance was a curious dark expression such as I had never before seen. Yet it was only for an instant, for next moment he was smiling, and invited me, as I was, to remain there the night. I, however, declined, for I expected some important business letters at home, and was compelled, therefore, to return to Upton End, towards which destination I set forth about ten o'clock. I had travelled about ten miles, when three miles the other side of Corby village, a double calamity befell me. Not only did one of my back tyres burst, but something went wrong with my magneto. Hence in the darkness, and with rain beginning to fall, I was brought to a complete standstill. Midnight passed. I was several miles from anywhere, and magnetos are tricky things. I could not get the car to budge, even though I had put on my Stepney wheel. I must, I suppose, have been pottering about for fully three hours, and not a soul had passed me in either direction. The distant chimes of a church somewhere had struck two, and when just about to give up the attempt to readjust the magneto, I suddenly heard the sound of a galloping horse approaching in the darkness. As it came up I saw it was ridden by a youth, and I was just about to hail him and ask him to fetch assistance when, with the perversity of such instruments, the magneto started again quite merrily. Therefore I once again mounted at the wheel, and flashing past the lonely horseman, pushed on through the rain over the many weary miles till I at last reached my own home. Next morning, while seated alone at breakfast, I heard a sound, and, to my great surprise, recognised the same young horseman, muddy and wearied, coming up the drive. With curiosity I went forth to meet him, when he handed me a note, saying-- "Miss Seymour, of Lydford, asked me to bring this at once, sir. It is very important. I've been riding all night." "Yes," I cried. "Why, I remember I passed you in my car!"