tarted and
then sat quite still, while the color slowly drained from her face,
leaving it bleached and deathlike. A look of fear and horror grew in her
eyes, and her fingers clasped until the knuckles showed white.

"Oh!" she stammered brokenly, "what do you mean by that?"

Merriman tried once more to take her hand.

"Dear one," he said caressingly, "don't let what I said distress you. We
know the syndicate is carrying on something that--well, perhaps wouldn't
bear too close investigation. But that has nothing to do with us. It
won't affect our relations."

The girl seemed transfixed with horror.

"We know?" she repeated dully. "Who are we?"

"Why, Hilliard; Hilliard and I. We found out quite by accident that
there was something secret going on. We were both interested; Hilliard
has a mania for puzzles, and besides he thought he might get some kudos
if the business was illegal and he could bring it to light, while I knew
that because of Mr. Coburn's connection with it the matter might affect
you."

"Yes?" She seemed hardly able to frame the syllable between her dry
lips.

Merriman was profoundly unhappy. He felt it was out of the question for
him to tell her anything but the exact truth. Whether she would consider
he had acted improperly in spying on the syndicate he did not know, but
even at the risk of destroying his own chance of happiness he could not
deceive her.

"Dear one," he said in a low tone, "don't think any worse of me than you
can help, and I will tell you everything. You remember that first day
that I was here, when you met me in the lane and we walked to the mill?"

She nodded.

"You may recall that a lorry had just arrived, and that I stopped
and stared at it? Well, I had noticed that the number plate had been
changed."

"Ah," she exclaimed, "I was afraid you had."

"Yes, I saw it, though it conveyed nothing to me. But I was interested,
and one night in London, just to make conversation in the club, I
mentioned what I had seen. Hilliard was present, and he joined me on the
way home and insisted on talking over the affair. As I said, he has a
mania for puzzles, and the mystery appealed to him. He was going on that
motorboat tour across France, and he suggested that I should join him
and that we should call here on our way, so as to see if we could find
the solution. Neither of us thought then, you understand, that there
was anything wrong; he was merely interested. I didn't care about th