ho was there to advise her if
not her mistress? Violet had not much doubt as to what her advice would
be, for she knew that it was a serious matter to withhold information
that would tend to the conviction of a criminal. The maid would have to
be told to take the course she ought to have taken at first--to give the
police the name of the man Levison was to meet.

But Violet intuitively shrank from uttering the word which might be the
first step towards condemning a fellow-creature to ignominious death,
however well merited, and perhaps it was to gain time that she asked--

"How was it that you concealed this knowledge, Louise? Is the person
whom you have been shielding a friend of yours?"

"On the contrary, mees, I 'ave neverre speak to 'im," came the glib
reply. "I keep the secret because Mr. Travers Nugent, who I know to be
honourable gentleman and well acquainted with m'sieu your father,
because 'e guess I going to the police and persuade me to stop. 'E say
it silly to stir up the mud for no good."

Now Violet Maynard had never yielded to the spell of Travers Nugent's
social attractions. She had always been civil to him as one in whose
well-informed society easy-going Montague Maynard found pleasure, but in
her infrequent and superficial intercourse with the man-about-town she
had been conscious of a vague mistrust. Quite naturally, therefore, she
exclaimed--

"Mr. Nugent should not have interfered. It was very wrong of him, and
though I do not know much about such matters I imagine that he may have
made trouble for himself as well as for you. Who was this person whom
Mr. Nugent was at such pains to protect, Louise? He is fond of currying
favour with the natives of this place, I know, but I should hardly have
thought that his thirst for popularity would have led him to incur the
risk of personal unpleasantness."

Mademoiselle Louise stole one glance at the mildly indignant face in the
glass, then dropped her eyes demurely before firing the shot with which
she had been primed.

"It was not about what you call native of Ottermouth that he beg me to
be silent, mees," she replied, using the hair-brush assiduously. "It was
a visitor gentleman--very nice gentleman he seems and friendly with you,
mees, and with m'sieu your father. But that I cannot 'elp. It was Mr.
Chermside who arrange to meet Levison on the marsh at ten o'clock on the
night when some one kill him."

Mademoiselle gave quite half a dozen strokes wi