I am not
satisfied that the girl who has been staying at Runton Place, and
calling herself Miss Fielding, is not in reality Phyllis Poynton."

Duncombe lit a cigarette, and passed the box round.

"Do you know what they are saying to-night of Mr. Fielding and his
daughter?" he asked quietly.

"No!"

"That the one is a robber, and the other an adventuress," Duncombe
answered. "This much is certainly true. They have both left Runton Place
at a moment's notice, and without taking leave of their host and
hostess. Remember, I never knew Phyllis Poynton. You did! Ask yourself
whether she is the sort of young person to obtain hospitality under
false pretences, and then abuse it--to associate herself in a fraud with
a self-confessed robber."

"The idea," Pelham said quietly, "is absurd."

"While we are on the subject," Spencer remarked, drawing the cigarettes
towards him, "may I ask you a few questions, Mr. Pelham? For instance,
had Miss Poynton any relations in France?"

"Not to my knowledge," Pelham answered. "I have known both her and her
brother for a great many years, and I never heard either of them mention
any."

"Why did she go to Paris, then?"

"To meet her brother."

"And why did he go abroad?"

"It was a whim, I think. Just a desire to see a few foreign countries
before he settled down to live the life of a country gentleman."

"You believe that he had no other reason?"

"I think I may go so far as to say that I am sure of it," Pelham
answered.

"One more question," Spencer added, intervening.

But the question remained unasked. The butler had opened the dining-room
door and was announcing Lord Runton.

Duncombe rose to his feet in surprise. For the moment a sudden fear drew
the color from his cheeks.

He looked apprehensively towards his unexpected visitor. Lord Runton,
however, showed no signs of any great discomposure. He was wearing his
ordinary dinner clothes, and in reply to Duncombe's first question
assured him that he had dined.

"I will try a glass of your port, if I may, George," he declared.
"Thanks!"

The butler had wheeled a chair up to the table for him, and left the
room. Lord Runton filled his glass and sent the decanter round. Then he
turned towards Spencer, to whom he had just been introduced.

"Mr. Spencer," he said, "my visit to-night is mainly to you. I dare say
you are aware that a somewhat unpleasant thing has happened at my house.
My people tell me that you called th