a point, to judge by their looks. But they had scored against
me also. I realized that my guess had not been wrong. There was a secret
hiding-place to which the garden court suite had access. That was one
reason why the Scarletts had chosen the suite. By this time Terry Burns
was there, with Kramm laughing in her sleeve while pretending to be
outraged at his intrusion. If only _I_ were on the spot instead of
Terry, I might have a sporting chance to ferret out the secret, for
I--so to speak--had been reared in an atmosphere of "hidie-holes" for
priests, cavaliers, and kings, of whom several in times of terror had
found asylum at our old Abbey. But Terry Burns was an American. It
wasn't in his blood to detect secret springs and locks!

I ceased to depend on what Terry might do, and "fell back upon myself."

"You talk like a madwoman!" sneered Madame Defarge. But her hands
trembled. She must have missed her knitting!

"Mine is inspired madness," said I. And then I did feel an inspiration
coming--as one feels a sneeze in church. "Of course," I went on, "if
you've hidden the poor drugged girl in that cubby-hole under the twisted
chimney----"

The woman would have sprung at me if Scarlett had not grabbed her arm.
My hand was on the tassel of the bell rope; and joy was in my heart, for
at last I'd grabbed their best trump. If Bertie The Second was the Ace,
the twisted chimney had supplied its Jack!

"Keep your head, Hilda," Scarlett warned his wife. "There's a vile plot
against us. This--er--lady and her American partner have tricked us into
letting Dun Moat, with the object of blackmail. We must be careful----"

"No," I corrected him, "you must be _frank_. So will I. We knew nothing
of your secret when we came to Dun Moat. We got on the track by
accident. As a matter of fact, Captain Burns saw the real Lady Scarlett
at the window, and she would have called to him for help if she could.
No doubt by that time she'd realized that you were slowly doing her to
death----"

"What a devilish accusation!" Scarlett boomed. "Since you know so much,
in self-defence I'll tell you the true history of this girl. We _have_
taken my brother's daughter into the house. We have given her shelter.
She is _not_ legitimate. My brother was married in England before going
to Australia, and his wife--an actress--still lives. Therefore, to make
known Cecil's parentage would be to accuse her father of bigamy and soil
the name. Hearing the truth