It was a bad introduction to the story she had to tell; indeed, in her terror, she almost forgot the object of her visit.

“Did Arthur come with you?”

She shook her head.

“Dick, I know,” were the first words she said when she had recovered her breath.

“You know what?”

“About Lady Chelford’s money.”

She saw his face change.

“Did he tell you?” he asked, the red coming into his face.

“Not Arthur, no. It was Gilder.”

“Mr Gilder told you? I knew he had been and I knew he had called. Was that why he came?”

She nodded.

“For nothing else?”

“Yes; he came to offer me the money.”

She saw his eyes narrow.

“He did? At a price, of course?”

She nodded.

“And you – what did you say?”

She found a difficulty in breathing; speech for the moment was impossible without making a fool of herself.

“You agreed?”

She nodded again.

“I have just posted the letter to him,” she said.

She saw him bite his lip, and a red spot of blood showed. If he had stormed at her, cursed her, she could have borne it; but he did no more than look at her. There was nothing in his gaze that was uncharitable.

“Oh, Dick, Dick!” She was sobbing on his breast and his arms were about her, comforting her.

“You can’t do it, my dear. Anything is better than that.”

She shook her head, incapable of speech.

“I tell you anything is better than that.” His voice was hard, uncompromising. “Better Arthur go down for five years than that you should live in hell all your life! I know that man – I know his kind – it isn’t his years, it’s his mind and his evil heart. If he were twenty I would say, ‘No, you can’t do it, Leslie.’”

She pushed herself gently away from him and dried her eyes.

“I must, Dick; I have given my word. I cannot trick him. The last thing I said to him was, ‘If I tell you I will marry you, you can make the arrangements about the money – I will not fail you.’ I cannot fail him; I cannot fail myself.”

His face was drawn and haggard.

“This can’t be!” he said. “Something will happen. I don’t know what–”

He stopped.

“What’s that?” she gasped, terrified.

From somewhere in the grounds came a shrill shriek that was hardly human. Again it came: a sobbing, blubbering shriek that turned her heart to ice.

“Stay here,” said Dick, as he made for the open window, but she flung herself upon him.

“You shan’t go! You mustn’t go!” she cried wildly. “Dick, something dreadful is happening. Oh, God! listen, Dick!”

This time the shriek was shriller, and died away into a thin wail of sound.

He pushed her aside and ran out on to the lawn.

“From which way did it come, do you think?”