"I came," said her lover, determined now to make a clean breast of it, "to look at the vault--to see that all was safe." The Rector uttered an exclamation of astonishment. "Did you expect, then, that there would be some foul play?" "Well, I hardly know, sir. It was this way: After Mr. Marlow received that letter from the West Indies--which doubtless warned him that Lestrange was on his track--he was much worried. He would not tell me the reason, but kept speaking of some shock he had had which might cause his death. 'And I don't know if the scoundrel will let my body rest in its grave,' he said in a fit of passion. I asked to whom he alluded, but he would say no more. When he died so unexpectedly, his words came back to me. I wondered if he had enemies who might disturb his remains, and all that day after the funeral I felt so bothered about it that I could not rest without coming back to see if all was well." "And you found nothing wrong?" "Nothing, sir. I was in the churchyard for about a quarter of an hour. I examined the door of the vault, and saw everything was right. As I came away I met Jarks; the rest you know." "You saw no signs of that tramp in the churchyard?" "None! I expect he was sleeping when I was there. According to his story, it was after midnight when the vault was opened." "Alan," said Sophy, much relieved, "how is it they did not know at Heathton Station that you were here?" "I did not go to Heathton Station. I stopped at Murbury, and walked from there across the heath. I went back the same way. I did so simply to keep the tongues of gossips quiet. I did not want you to be worried, Sophy; and after all," he said, after a pause, "beyond the chance words of your father I had no reason to think that anything was wrong. Ah! if I had only stayed in the churchyard all night, I should have prevented this trouble. The vault would never have been broken into, and poor Warrender would still be alive." The Rector nodded approval of this speech, and poured himself out a glass of wine, which, poor man, he sadly needed. Lestrange's accusation had been disproved; still, there remained the evidence of Cicero. Sophy put the question which was in the Rector's mind. "Captain Lestrange brought Cicero here, Alan," she said abruptly, "and he--Cicero, I mean--declared that you were in the hut on the moor that night." "I was not!" cried young Thorold hotly. "I was never near the hut. Why should I have been? Ask yourself, as I had to walk to and from Murbury, and spend a quarter of an hour in the churchyard, had I time to cross the moor all the distance to the hut?" "Of course, you know I don't believe it. But Cicero----" "Well, and how can he prove I was there?" he said impatiently. "He found something there which belonged to you." "What?" "A lancet."