"Because I am determined that you shall not again escape me, Ella," was my answer, grasping her hand and raising it with reverence to my lips. Are we ever truly read, I wonder, save by the one that loves us best? Love is blind, the phrase runs; yet, I would rather say Love sees as God sees, and with infinite wisdom has infinite pardon. What was it I felt? I hardly know. I acted without knowing--only stung into a bitter, burning, all-corroding jealousy that drove me like a whip of scorpions. "You should never have done this," she answered calmly, though her voice trembled just a little. "Have I not already told you that--that our meeting was unfortunate, and that we must again part?" "But why?" I demanded fiercely. "It is imperative," she faltered. "I can never be yours." "But you shall--Ella!" I cried fiercely, "in this past twenty-four hours I have discovered a great deal. Unknown to me there was a man staying with Miller at Studland. The real object of your visit there was to speak with him in secret. You did so and left by motor car, while he travelled here by train. Your father has no idea that he and Miller are friends nor has he any idea of his true identity. He believes him to be Gordon-Wright, yet I know him under the name of Lieutenant Harold Shacklock." "You--you know him?" she gasped. "Yes. After you left the Manor I called, and Lucie introduced me--as though I needed any introduction to him," I laughed bitterly. "Then where have you met him before?" she asked, deeply anxious. "Abroad. I know who and what he is, Ella," I said determinedly. "And you shall never be his wife." "But I must," she declared. "It is all arranged. I cannot break my engagement. I dare not." "Then I shall simply go to the police and tell them what I know. I will never allow you to wreck your happiness because this fellow holds some mysterious power over you. You are mine, Ella--remember--mine!" "I know! I know!" she gasped, her face pale, her eyes terrified. "But you must not say a word. I beg you, if you really love me, not to say a word." "Why not?" "Because he would revenge himself upon me. I know certain of his secrets--secrets that I discovered by the merest chance. Any information given to the police he would suspect of coming from me. Therefore, don't you see that any such attempt to free me will only bring upon me disaster--even death!" "You fear he may take your life!" I gasped. "Ah! I see! He might even kill you, in order to close your lips!" And I recollected the fellow's ominous words I had overheard on the previous night, when he had told her that upon her secrecy his very life depended. He was as ingenious and unscrupulous a criminal as there was in the whole length and breadth of the kingdom.