Next evening, however, having learnt from the landlord that she was much interested in a decrepit old woman who had been her nurse, and who lived in a cottage at the farther end of Studland, I idled in wait for her in a narrow green lane which ran at the back of the church, and was at length rewarded by seeing her approaching. She was dressed in white muslin with a large lace garden hat, and beside her walked her pet dog, a beautiful fawn collie. Boldly I went towards her, my hat in my hand in respectful greeting. In an instant she recognised me, and drew back, half in surprise, half in alarm. Her countenance went white as death. "You--Why--Mr Leaf!" she gasped, attempting to smile. "Only fancy--to meet you here!" "Miss Miller," I said calmly, taking the hand she offered me, and glancing around in order to see that we were not observed, "I came here on purpose to meet you--to speak with you!" "With me?" she cried in cold surprise, her brows contracting in marked displeasure. "What have you to say? Explain quickly, for we must not be seen together here." And I recognised from her trembling lips how anxious and agitated she had become. She was in some great fear. I was convinced of that. She tried to smile me welcome, but it died from her white lips. The expression upon her face told me that she was in deadly fear lest I should discover her secret. I was, I felt certain, the very last person whom she desired to meet. The very fact of my presence there told her that I knew something concerning her--something concerning the past that she intended at all costs to hide from me. CHAPTER ELEVEN. LUCIE IS CONFIDENTIAL. "This is not altogether an accidental meeting, Miss Miller," I confessed at once to her. "The fact is I have waited in vain for your return to Granville Gardens, and at length have thought it wise to come here in search of you." "Who told you that we lived here?" she inquired breathlessly. "No one told me, I discovered the fact quite accidentally," was my answer. "Remember that your family is an old one, and in Debrett, therefore it was easy to find out the home of the Dorsetshire Millers." My rather plausible explanation apparently satisfied her, for looking sharply around, she said:-- "If we are to talk, Mr Leaf, let us cross yonder stile and slip across the fields. We shall not be seen there." So I helped her over the stile she indicated and we passed together along a steep path beside a high hawthorn hedge, and a few minutes later descended into the hollow where the village and sea were lost to view. "I certainly expected you to return," I said, half reproachfully. "I believed that you would wish to hear something further regarding the dead man. You refused to tell me his name, but I have discovered it. He was Nardini, the absconding ex-Minister of Justice in Rome." "Who told you so?" she inquired, looking at me with considerable suspicion.