ad you didn't come."

"But you shouted to us to be quick."

"I know I did."

"Was it something or somebody you saw in that room?"

"Please don't ask me."

"But look here, Merle, this is too bad," protested Lindsay. "You're
playing a very nasty trick upon us."

"It can't be helped. I've said I am sorry," returned Merle doggedly.

"Well, you are a fraud," cried Cicely. "I like people who keep their
promises."

"So do I," said Merle, in rather a significant tone. "It's exactly what
I intend doing, too."

"You don't mean to say you've promised not to tell!" exclaimed Lindsay.

"I didn't say anything at all."

"Have you told Elsie Ryder or Marjorie Butler?"

"Certainly not. I haven't mentioned the matter to anybody, and I hope
you won't either."

"But why shouldn't you whisper it just to Lindsay and me? We wouldn't
let a soul know," pleaded Cicely reproachfully.

"I can't explain why. Do let us drop the subject."

Here was indeed a deadlock. They had been afraid lest Merle should
betray her secret indiscreetly, but they had certainly never
contemplated being kept out of it themselves. The more they pressed her,
the more obstinately she refused, and neither scolding nor coaxing would
induce her to disclose even the least hint. They gave it up at last,
feeling very baffled and rather out of temper.

"We do know something about your old room, all the same," said Lindsay
crossly, as a parting shot.

"Oh, Lindsay, you don't really!"

There was an anxious note in Merle's voice.

"More than you think."

"Then, whatever it is, you had better keep it to yourselves, and not let
it go any farther."

Merle's extraordinary behaviour seemed to make the mystery even deeper
than before. She had evidently been exploring the Manor on her own
account and had made some discovery, which she undoubtedly had intended
to share with them when she called from the window. Then something must
have occurred afterwards which caused her to change her mind.

To whom had she given a promise of secrecy? Surely not to Mrs. Wilson?
That would be aiding and abetting one whom they strongly believed to be
Monica's enemy. If only Miss Frazer had not such a tiresome love of
tidiness, they might have reached the lantern room in time, and be now
in possession of the information they wanted. It was too tantalizing to
feel that they had been so near a solution of the problem, and had
missed it by a few moments.

Events never happen singly