u, I came because of something I heard concerning--concerning--"

He interrupted me. "Then Heathcroft did tell you!" he exclaimed. "I
thought as much."

"He told you, I know. He said he did."

"Yes. He did. My God, man, isn't it awful! Have you seen her?"

His manner convinced me that he had seen her. In my eagerness I forgot
to be careful.

"No," I answered, breathlessly; "I have not seen her. Where is she?"

He turned and stared at me.

"Don't you know where she is?" he asked, slowly.

"I know nothing. I have been told that she--or someone very like her--is
singing in a Paris church. Heathcroft told me that and then we were
interrupted. I--What is the matter?"

He was staring at me more oddly than ever. There was the strangest
expression on his face.

"In a church!" he repeated. "Heathcroft told you--"

"He told me that he had seen a girl, whose resemblance to Miss Morley
was so striking as to be marvelous, singing in a Paris church. He called
it an abbey, but of course it couldn't be that. Do you know anything
more definite? What did he tell you?"

He did not answer.

"In a church!" he said again. "You thought--Oh, good heavens!"

He began to laugh. It was not a pleasant laugh to hear. Moreover, it
angered me.

"This may be very humorous," I said, brusquely. "Perhaps it is--to you.
But--Bayliss, you know more of this than I. I am certain now that you
do. I want you to tell me what you know. Is that girl Frances Morley?
Have you seen her? Where is she?"

He had stopped laughing. Now he seemed to be considering.

"Then you did come over here to find her," he said, more slowly still.
"You were following her, why?"

"WHY?"

"Yes, why. She is nothing to you. You told my father that. You told me
that she was not your niece. You told Father that you had no claim upon
her whatever and that she had asked you not to try to trace her or to
learn where she was. You said all that and preached about respecting her
wish and all that sort of thing. And yet you are here now trying to find
her."

The only answer I could make to this was a rather childish retort.

"And so are you," I said.

His fists clinched.

"I!" he cried, fiercely. "I! Did _I_ ever say she was nothing to me? Did
_I_ ever tell anyone I should not try to find her? I told you, only
the other day, that I would find her in spite of the devil. I meant it.
Knowles, I don't understand you. When I came to you thinking you her
uncle and guardia