"And you fear that the outcome of the meeting to-night may be another mutual arrangement?" She nodded sadly in the affirmative. "The combination of Dad and these people would, indeed, be a formidable one," she said. "Ah! if he would only take my advice and end it all! He has sufficient to live upon comfortably. Why does he court disaster in this way? He has always been, so very good to me, ever since I was a tiny child, that I cannot help loving him." I did not reply. What could I say? I longed to speak frankly to her and take her out of that atmosphere of evil. Yet what could I do? How could I act? "I have a suspicion that poor Mr Arnold was a friend of that woman," I said a few moments later, as she stood against the table before me. "Yes," was her reply. "He was her friend and benefactor, I believe. He did all he could for her defence before the judge, but to no avail." "Somebody betrayed her into the hands of the police?" "Dad told me so once. He believes it to have been her own husband, the man Earnshaw." I did not speak for a few moments. I was thinking of that strange letter which had threatened vengeance against the mysterious scholar, Mr Arnold. The latter had been accused of what he had not done, yet that very accusation had given me a clue to some very curious circumstances, and had forewarned me as to the true character of the wealthy widow of Ridgehill Manor. "Has your father any ground for declaring the woman's conviction to be due to Earnshaw?" "Yes, I believe so; but he has never told any one, except myself." "But if he and Mrs Olliffe become on friendly terms again, he will doubtless reveal what he knows." "Probably. Then the man Earnshaw will turn against her--and against Dad also. In that lies the great peril for Dad which I apprehend." I realised how far-seeing she was, how carefully she had weighed all the consequences, and how anxious she was for her father's safety. On the other hand, however, Shaw was certainly not a man to run any unnecessary risks. From what I had seen of him, he appeared full of craft and cunning, as became one who lived upon his wits. "Tell me what you know concerning Mr Arnold's association with this woman of a hundred different names," I urged. "I have a reason for my curiosity." "I know but little. Once, when I was about fifteen, Dad and I travelled with Mr Arnold from Vienna to Territet, and met her at the Hotel des Alpes there. She was very affable and nice to me, and she told me what an excellent friend Mr Arnold had been to her. I recollect the incident quite well, for on that day she bought me a little chain bracelet as a present. I have it now." "Your father quarrelled with Arnold, I believe?" "Yes," she said. "They had some difference. I never, however, ascertained the real facts. He evidently wished to see me, for he wrote to me making an appointment; and when I went to the hotel for that purpose, I learnt, alas! that he was dead."