up the stairs and out of
sight. I rushed at once into the library.

I found Sinclair sitting before a table with his head buried in his
hands. In an instant I knew that our positions were again reversed, and,
without stopping to give heed to my own sensations, I approached him as
near as I dared and laid my hand on his shoulder.

He shuddered, but did not look up, and it was minutes before he spoke.
Then it all came in a rush.

"Fool! fool that I was! And I saw that she was consumed by fright the
moment it became plain that I was intent upon having some conversation
with Dorothy. Her fingers where they gripped my arm must have left marks
behind them. But I saw only womanly nervousness when a man less blind
would have detected guilt. Walter, I wish that the mere scent of this
empty flask would kill. Then I should not have to re-enter that
conservatory door--or look again in her face, or----"

He had taken out the cursed jewel and was fingering it in a nervous way
which went to my heart of hearts. Gently removing it from his hand, I
asked with all the calmness possible:

"What is all this mystery? Why have your suspicions returned to
Gilbertine? I thought you had entirely dissociated her with this matter,
and that you blamed Dorothy, and Dorothy only, for the amethyst's
loss?"

"Dorothy had the empty box; but the vial! the vial!--that had been taken
by a previous hand. Do you remember the white silk train which Mr.
Armstrong saw slipping from this room? I cannot talk, Walter; my duty
leads me _there_."

He pointed towards the conservatory. I drew back and asked if I should
take up my watch again outside the door.

He shook his head.

"It makes no difference; nothing makes any difference. But if you want
to please me, stay here."

I at once sank into a chair. He made a great effort and advanced to the
conservatory door. I studiously looked another way; my heart was
breaking with sympathy for him.

But in another instant I was on my feet. I could hear him rushing about
among the palms. Presently I heard his voice shout out the wild cry:

"She is gone! I forgot the other door communicating with the hall."

I crossed the floor and entered where he stood gazing down at an empty
seat and a trail of scattered roses. Never shall I forget his face. The
dimness of the spot could not hide his deep, unspeakable emotions. To
him this flight bore but one interpretation--guilt.

I did not advocate Sinclair's pressing t