ord of honour and go this moment
if you want me to do so."

"And you will say nothing, absolutely nothing, to any living soul about
this--about me--about anything that has happened here?"

Young Clavering gave his promise promptly; and, with equal promptness,
Cleek walked forward, unlocked the handcuff, and set him free, leading
him back along the passage to the stone steps, and being careful as they
passed through the cell where the murdered Common keeper's clothing lay
that no ray from the torch should disclose his ghastly find. At the foot
of the stone staircase he came to a halt.

"Now go," he said, "and remember that I trust you. Come back when you
like to-morrow and make what explanation you please regarding your
absence. I've trusted you with one or two secrets, and I will trust you
with another: there's good proof, my lad, that what you said about Lady
Katharine Fordham being at Gleer Cottage last night is the truth in
spite of her denial. She dropped the scent capsule from her bracelet
there, and I found it a few minutes before my boy Dollops found you
hiding in the hollow tree. No, no, no! Don't get excited. There's
nothing in that discovery to prove the lady guilty of any part in this
abominable crime. Last night I was inclined to think that that little
golden globe pointed toward her having been at least a confederate;
to-day I have changed my mind, and since I overheard that conversation
between you two, I have come to the conclusion that it proves her
absolutely innocent of any complicity whatsoever."

"But how, Mr. Barch?-- I mean Cleek. You know that she was there; you
know that I, too, was there. It's no use denying that since you're
'Monsieur de Lesparre' as well as what you are. You heard her deny her
presence. You heard her say that she did not show me into the room where
De Louvisan's body was. But she did; as God hears me, she did, though
I'll never believe her guilty"--this in a last wild effort to divert
suspicion from her--"whatever I might have said, whatever you may have
discovered against her."

"I have just said there is nothing against her," said Cleek, with one of
his curious smiles. "I have come to the conclusion that she is not a
criminal, but a martyr. I don't believe she has any more idea of who
murdered De Louvisan, or why, than has a child in its cradle. I know you
say that she showed you into the room where the dead man's body was;
but I don't believe, my friend, that she was t