could never be feigned. It spoke far more truly than
mere words.

Perhaps she was annoyed that I had told Shuttleworth the truth. Yes, I
had acted very foolishly. My tongue had loosened involuntarily. My
wild joy had led me into an injudicious confession--one that I had
never dreamed would be fraught with sorrow.

"Mr. Shuttleworth," I said at last, "please do not distress yourself
on my account. I love Sylvia, and she has promised to be mine. If
disaster occurs, then I am fully prepared to meet it. You seem in
close touch with this remarkable association of thieves and assassins,
or you would hardly be so readily aware of their evil intentions."

"Ah!" he responded, with a slight sigh, "you are only speaking in
ignorance. If you were aware of the true facts, you would, on the
contrary, thank me for revealing the peril in which love for this
young lady will assuredly place you."

"But have I not already told you that I am fearless? I am prepared to
meet this mysterious peril, whatever it is, for her sake!" I
protested.

A curious, cynical smile overspread his grey, ascetic face.

"You speak without knowledge, my dear sir," he remarked. "Could I but
reveal the truth, you would quickly withdraw that assertion. You
would, indeed, flee from this girl as you would from the plague!"

"Well," I said, "your words are at least very remarkable, sir. One
would really imagine Miss Pennington to be a hell-fiend--from your
denunciation."

"You mistake me. I make no denunciation. On the other hand, I am
trying to impress upon you the utter futility of your love."

"Why should you do that? What is your motive?" I asked quickly, trying
to discern what could be at the back of this man's mind. How strange
it was! Hitherto I had rather liked the tall, quiet, kind-mannered
country rector. Yet he had suddenly set himself out in open antagonism
to my plans--to my love!

"My motive," he declared, "is to protect the best interests of you
both. I have no ends to serve, save those of humanity, Mr. Biddulph."

"You urged Miss Pennington to make confession to me. You implied that
her avowal of affection was false," I said, with quick indignation.

"I asked her to confess--to tell you the truth, because I am unable so
to do," was his slow reply. "Ah! Mr. Biddulph," he sighed, "if only
the real facts could be exposed to you--if only you could be told the
ghastly, naked truth."

"Why do you say all this, Mr. Shuttleworth?" protested Sy