s is not a personal matter, and there
are reasons why he did not wish the Prince to leave suddenly."

I was staggered. I held my peace, and the two stood watching me. Then
I heard footsteps approaching us, and a familiar voice.

"What trio of conspirators is this talking so earnstly in the shadows?
Ah!"

The Prince had seen me, and he stood still. I faced him at once.

"Prince," I said, "it has been suggested to me that my eyesight is
probably defective. It is possible in that case that I have not seen
you before to-day, that the things with which I charge you are false,
that in all probability you were in some other place altogether. If
this is so, I apologize for my remarks and behaviour towards you."

He bowed with a faint mirthless smile.

"It is finished, my young friend," he declared. "I wipe it from my
memory." It seemed to me that I could hear Blenavon's sigh of relief,
that the shadow had fallen from Lady Angela's face. There was a little
murmur of satisfaction from both of them. But I turned abruptly, and
with scarcely even an attempt at a conventional farewell I left the
house, and walked homewards across the Park.

CHAPTER XV

TWO FAIR CALLERS

After three days the house party at Rowchester was somewhat unexpectedly
broken up. Lord Chelsford departed early one morning by special train,
and the Duke himself and the remainder of his guests left for London
later on in the day. I remained behind with three weeks' work, and a
fear which never left me by day or by night. Yet the relief of solitude
after the mysteries of the last few days was in itself a thing to be
thankful for.

For nine days I spoke with no one save Grooton. For an hour every
afternoon, and for rather longer at night, I walked on the cliffs or the
sands. Here on these lonely stretches of empty land I met no one, saw
no living thing save the seagulls. It was almost like a corner of some
forgotten land. These walks, and an occasional few hours' reading, were
my sole recreation.

It was late in the afternoon when I saw a shadow pass my window, and
immediately afterwards there was a timid knock at the door. Grooton had
gone on his daily pilgrimage with letters to the village, so I was
obliged to open it myself. To my surprise it was Blanche Moyat who
stood upon the threshold. She laughed a little nervously.

"I'm no ghost, Mr. Ducaine," she said, "and I shan't bite!"

"Forgive me," I answered. "I was hard at work and your knock s