know unless you tell."

"I tell? Anne, what do you take me for? I will keep quiet until I can
clear your character, and make you my wife."

"You must not see me again."

"No," sighed Giles, "it will not be wise. But can't you tell me who
killed Daisy, and thus clear yourself?"

Anne shook her head.

"I wish I could. But my father declares that he came out to see the
girl, and found her already dead on the grave face downwards. She had
been killed during the time he waited behind. He saw that there was a
danger of his being accused of the crime, since he had asked her to
leave the church. Thus it was that he lost his presence of mind and
called on me to save him. I did so on the impulse of the moment, and
thus it all came about."

"Where is your father now?"

Anne thought for a moment.

"I would tell you if I knew," she said seriously, "as I know you will
not betray him. But I don't know where he is. Since I have been here I
have not heard a word from him."

"Your uncle?"

"If my uncle knew, he would hand my father over to the police. He hates
him; but he is always kind to me."

"Anne, I wonder if your uncle killed Daisy to inherit the money?"

"No; he was in Italy at the time. I am sure of that."

"Has your father any suspicion who killed Daisy?"

"No. He says he has not."

"Why did he ask her to leave the church? And how did he manage it?"

"He wished to speak to her about George Franklin, who would inherit the
money if she died. I believe he intended to warn her that George was
dangerous, for he hates my uncle."

"Did your father know that the money had been left at the time?"

"No. It was only because he was on the spot that he wished to see Daisy.
He wrote on a scrap of paper that he wished to see her about the money,
and she came out."

"She was always eager after that miserable money," said Ware sadly. "But
your father did know that Powell was dead at the time, Anne." And he
told her of his discoveries in connection with the office boy. "So you
see your father was in England masquerading as Wilson," he finished.

"Yes," said Anne, with a shudder, "I see now. But he told me nothing of
this. Indeed, I can't understand my father at all."

"Do you know the meaning of the Scarlet Cross?"

"No; he refuses to tell me. He won't say why he pretended to be dead;
and in every way he is most mysterious. But I am fond of my father,
Giles, although I know he is not a good man. But he did not kill Dai