nd watched the first pink rays of the sun striking
the humped summit of Mont Blanc.

"Isn't it glorious?" she whispered.

He nodded.

The serene beauty of it all, the purity, the majestic aloofness of
mountains at once depressed and exalted her, brought her nearer to the
sublimity of ancient truths, cleansed her of petty fears. She turned to
him unexpectedly and asked:

"Jasper, who killed John Minute?"

He made no reply. His wistful eyes were fixed hungrily upon the glories
of light and shade, of space, of inaccessibility, of purity, of
coloring, of all that dawn upon Mont Blanc comprehended. When he spoke
his voice was lowered to almost a whisper.

"I know that the man who killed John Minute is alive and free," he said.

"Who was he?"

"If you do not know now, you may never know," he said.

There was a silence which lasted for fully five minutes, and the crimson
light upon the mountain top had paled to lemon yellow.

Then she asked again:

"Are you directly or indirectly guilty?"

He shook his head.

"Neither directly nor indirectly," he said shortly, and the next minute
she was in his arms.

There had been no word of love between them, no tender passage, no
letter which the world could not read. It was a love-making which had
begun where other love-makings end--in conquest and in surrender. In
this strange way, beyond all understanding, May Nuttall became engaged,
and announced the fact in the briefest of letters to her friends.

A fortnight later the girl arrived in England, and was met at Charing
Cross by Saul Arthur Mann. She was radiantly happy and bubbling over
with good spirits, a picture of health and beauty.

All this Mr. Mann observed with a sinking heart. He had a duty to
perform, and that duty was not a pleasant one. He knew it was useless to
reason with the girl. He could offer her no more than half-formed
theories and suspicions, but at least he had one trump card. He debated
in his mind whether he should play this, for here, too, his information
was of the scantiest description. He carried his account of the girl to
Frank Merrill.

"My dear Frank, she is simply infatuated," said the little man in
despair. "Oh, if that infernal record of mine was only completed I could
convince her in a second! There is no single investigation I have ever
undertaken which has been so disappointing."

"Can nothing be done?" asked Frank, "I cannot believe that it will
happen. Marry Jasper! Great Cae