ly the warrant is not yet
issued, or those men would come here and arrest me. But they are watching
to prevent my escape--if I thought of escaping. We may yet have a few
hours to arrange something, but you must come to a prompt decision."

"Tell me what to do, and I will do it. Oh, let me help you if I can. What
is the best thing to do? To see Crewe?"

"No. I forbid you to see Crewe," he said harshly. "If we decide on that
course I will see him myself."

"And you may be arrested the moment you go out of these chambers," she
returned. "Oh, no, no; that is not a good plan--we have not the time. I
will go to Mabel Fewbanks at once, and beg her, for all our sakes, not to
allow this to go any further."

He shook his head.

"You must not sacrifice yourself," he said. "That would be foolish."

"I will not sacrifice myself. I would tell her just what you have told
me--that her father came from Scotland to discuss an urgent matter with
you, and that he was murdered after you left. I feel certain this man
Crewe is going to extremes without her knowledge or consent, and that she
will be the first to bury this awful thing when she learns that you have
been implicated. Is not this the best thing to do?"

"It is," he reluctantly admitted. "But I do not wish you to be mixed up
in it at all."

"I am not mixing myself up in it--I am too selfish for that. But I swear
to you if you do not let me do this I will confess everything. I know
Mabel Fewbanks, and I repeat, she is not aware of what this man Crewe has
done. She would not--will not, permit it. I shall go down to Dellmere at
once." Her face was pale, and her eyes glittered as she looked at her
husband, but she spoke with unnatural self-possession. With feverish
energy she pulled on a glove she had taken off when she entered, and
buttoned it. "I will--I shall--arrive in time. In two hours--in three at
most--you will hear from me."

She passed out into the outer office before her husband could reply, and
closed the door behind her. Mr. Mattingford dashed to open the outer door
of his room leading into the main staircase. He thought Mrs. Holymead
looked strange as she passed him and descended the stairs, and he rubbed
his hands gleefully. He came to the conclusion that she had come in for a
cheque for L50 as an advance of her dress allowance, and that her request
had been refused.

CHAPTER XXVII

She left her husband's chambers with her brain in a whirl, hardly kno