"No. I can fix it, because I noted the time by that long grandfather clock in the hall as we went out, and I looked at my watch when I got back to the inn. I was three-quarters of an hour in getting back to Studland." "That's rather strange," she remarked, with a distinct note of suspicion in her voice. "Why?" "Well--because Ella was gone nearly two hours and a half. My father went to bed, and I remained up for her. Wasn't she with you?" "Certainly not," was my prompt answer, much surprised at her statement. "Then something must have occurred after she left you," my companion said. "After she left me! What do you mean?" "A very long time elapsed before her return," Lucie remarked. "She may have been alone--but I think not." "Who was with her?" "How can we tell?" "But what causes you to think that Ella was not alone?" "By her strange manner when she returned. She was pale and breathless, as though she had been hurrying, and although she had pinned it up I noticed that the sleeve of her blouse was torn, and that her wrist bore dark marks as though she had had a desperate struggle with some one." "Was she attacked by some tramp or other, I wonder?" I cried, amazed. "She refused to tell me anything save that she was rather upset. She seemed in great fear that my father should have knowledge of the affair, and made me faithfully promise not to tell him. Her hair was awry, and some of the lace at the throat was torn as though some person had seized her and tried to strangle her. Indeed, while speaking to me she placed her hand at her throat, as if it pained her. Alarmed at her appearance, I inquired what was the matter, but she would only tell me vaguely that she was not very well. I at once jumped to the conclusion that you had quarrelled." "We certainly had no quarrel, Miss Miller," I quickly reassured her. "Then it is evident that she was attacked by some one! Yet it is curious that, intimate friends that we are, she would tell me nothing of the incident." "She wished to shield her assailant, perhaps," I remarked, much puzzled. "It certainly seems so. Seeing her so pale, and believing her about to faint, I took her to the dining-room and gave her some brandy. She sipped it, and a moment afterwards burst into tears. I sat with her for nearly half an hour trying to learn the mystery of her unhappiness. I asked her quite frankly if she had quarrelled with you, but she replied in the negative. Under the light, as she sat in the dining-room, I remarked the great change in her. Her countenance was pale as death, her lips white, and her eyes bore a look of terror in them. She was undoubtedly in great fear. But of what, I am unable to tell." "Your surmise is, no doubt, correct. She met some one unexpectedly-- some one who attacked her. I wonder who it is?"