to say another word. I am sorry, truly sorry that a young lady of
your--position should be so intimately acquainted, should be----Dear,
dear, this is very sad, Miss Grant! I think you'd better go back to the
Hall. But please don't say anything to Mr. Jacobs; I will come back to
him directly I have seen the prisoner locked up."

Celia was calm now; her momentary terror had given place to grief and
pity for the man she loved. Not for a second did any doubt of his
innocence assail her. With that almost divine intuition of true love,
she knew, not only that he was innocent, but that this crime was in some
way or other connected with the former one, that of the forged cheque.

"Yes, I will go back to the Hall," she said; "but you will let me speak
to Mr. Green before I go?"

"Of course, I can't prevent you," said the Inspector; "but you must say
what you have to say in my hearing, and, of course, I shall take note of
every word."

Celia went to Derrick, put her arm round his neck and kissed him.

"I can wait, dearest," she said. "You will not let this--this weigh upon
you, trouble you?"

He was silent for a moment, his lips working; but the kiss she had
impressed upon him strengthened and nerved him.

"God bless you, Celia!" he murmured, very quietly. "Go now! One
moment--is the Marquess dying?"

"No," she said, with a dry little sob. "He is very bad, has been
dreadfully injured, but he may recover."

"Thank God!" said Derrick. "That is all I will say. Go back, now,
dearest. I will write to you--if they will let me."

The two men moved on; but she stood, her hand pressed against the tree,
as if for support, as if she were unable to move, her eyes following the
two figures; and as she watched them, in an agony, she saw a third
figure coming through the gate. For a moment she did not recognize it,
then she saw that it was Mr. Clendon. She saw him stop in front of the
other two men and she ran forward, calling his name, and, in another
instant, she was clinging to him. The old man murmured her name
soothingly, and she tried to control herself; but her voice was broken
by sobs, as she said:

"Oh, Mr. Clendon, I am in great trouble. They have arrested him--the man
I am going to marry----" She could get no further.

Mr. Clendon looked steadily, piercingly at Derrick; and Derrick, as if
answering the look, shook his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Who is this?" demanded the Inspector, impatiently; for, na