His visitor bowed, and left him.

It cannot be said of most of the members of the house party that they pa.s.sed the morning as usefully or happily as Kent-Lauriston. In the Secretary's mind the problem was uppermost, of how to be alone from breakfast to lunch. He was aided in the accomplishment of his intent by the connivance of the three ladies whom he was most anxious to avoid.

The Dowager sent him a little note saying that she always spent the morning in her room, and that her dear Isabelle would be quite free in consequence. The "dear Isabelle" informed Stanley publicly, that she should spend the morning in the library, and intimated privately, that it would be well if he was supposedly with her, and in reality any where else; while Miss Fitzgerald remarked, that she intended spending the morning in the park, as she wished to be alone. As a result of these obvious suggestions, the Secretary followed Lady Isabella into the library, in full sight of the party at large, and crossing the room, stepped out of one of the long, low windows on to the lawn, and by means of a side staircase quietly gained his own apartment, where he spent the morning in reading and meditation. His reading was confined to a comprehensive volume on "Locks, Ancient and Modern," by Price, received that morning from John. His meditations, on the other hand, were on an entirely different subject.

The events of the night before, aided by Kent-Lauriston's suggestive comments, had brought him face to face with a question to which he had hitherto avoided giving an answer. _Was Miss Fitzgerald a party to the conspiracy to defeat the treaty?_ He put it to himself in so many words.

Repugnant as was the task, the Secretary felt that he must, in the interests of his country, put sentiment aside and face the facts.

It was not to be supposed because he had made the mistake of taking pity for love, in the case of the lady, that he was any the less indifferent to her fate. He still considered himself bound to her, should she ask the redemption of his promise; he had championed her purity and innocence in the face of all opposition; and it was inexpressibly shocking to him to find himself forced to consider even the possibility of her being connected with such a nefarious transaction.

Yet he felt it only just to face the evidence against her, and seek to the best of his ability to rebut it.

What reasons were there for supposing her to be connected with the plot to defeat the treaty? He placed them in order of their occurrence.

1. He had seen her driving with Mr. Riddle on the day after his dinner.

2. She had denied her acquaintance with Darcy, in his presence, to that gentleman's wife, though she had since been proven to be very intimate with him.

3. She had proposed a game of cards, and suggested Stanley's using an old letter to score on, which proposal and suggestion had led to the restoration of the secret instructions to Mr. Riddle.

4. Kent-Lauriston said she had asked Kingsland to take the chests containing the money to London.

5. She had been in the hall late the night before, a.s.sisting Darcy to break open the door.

This was all the evidence against her. Did it prove that she was a partner to the plot?

No, he told himself. It did not.

Did it prove that she was a dupe of these men? An innocent instrument in the furtherance of their vile conspiracy?

He was forced to admit the possibility of this, though he told himself he knew her too well to believe for an instant that she had any knowledge of the plot itself, or the desperate game her friends were playing. It now became his duty to save the Irish girl from the consequences of her own folly; to open her eyes to the true character of her friends. He could only do this by proving their complicity. The destruction of the plot, and her salvation alike, hung on the recovery of that lost letter, for in the light of the events of the past night, it seemed fair to a.s.sume that this paper had an important bearing on the conspiracy, and was necessary to its success.

The money had been sent, the time was short, but Darcy still remained.

Why did he do so, unless it was to attempt a recovery of the doc.u.ment?

It must, then, be of vital importance.

Having arrived at these conclusions, Stanley found himself committed to one of two courses of action: either to play the spy on the movements of his friends, or to effect the opening of the door with the silver nails.

The first was repugnant to his spirit as a gentleman, and he instantly chose the second, believing that within the portal lay the only real clue he had so far obtained. This plan also had the added recommendation of placing in his hand evidence which would not involve the introduction of Miss Fitzgerald's name in the matter.

Having thus mapped out his course of action, and finding there was still an hour before lunch, he descended to the lawn, and made a preliminary inspection of the exterior walls of the old manor house. It might be possible to enter in some other way than by the oaken door which remained so obstinately closed. The building was of stone, and two stories in height, though most irregular in form, having been added to and altered during succeeding generations, as suited the taste of the owner of the period. The north-east end, however, instead of having a corner, was slightly rounded, and above the level of the roof a.s.sumed the shape of a circular tower, rising some forty feet higher than the rest of the structure, and surmounted by crumbling battlements. Even an inexperienced eye might detect that the door with the silver nails gave entrance to this tower, which Stanley was sure did not a.s.sume, in the lower storey at least, a s.p.a.ce commensurate with its diameter above.

Probably the door communicated with a narrow winding stair for the first, and perhaps the second, floors, the real s.p.a.ce of the structure being contained in the portion which arose detached. This conjecture could easily be verified by measuring. At the first convenient opportunity he determined to make these preliminary investigations. It was said that the tower possessed no windows, and certainly this was the case, unless they gave on the leads; for, from the ground, it presented everywhere a blank wall of solid masonry, to which here and there strands of ivy clung.

"But they must have got their light from somewhere," he said to himself.

"Perhaps from the roof, in which case there is probably some antique form of scuttle by which entrance could be had. If one could only get up there to see--but it's not a likely place for climbing. There should be the remains of an old flag-staff or cresset, or something of that nature----" and he walked slowly backwards across the lawn, hoping to reduce the visual angle sufficiently to see any slight projection above the battlements, but in vain; and he was about to abandon his backward course and return to the house, when a soft voice murmured at his elbow:--

"Star-gazing by daylight?" and he turned, to find himself close beside Madame Darcy.

"Oh, good-morning," he said, lifting his hat. "I beg your pardon, but I was trying to discover the remains of some superstructure on those battlements."

"Why not go up and see?"

"That is what many people have wished to do for the last two hundred years, but the only door of entrance is shut, and no man knows the secret of the lock."

"And do you mean to discover it?"

"I'm afraid it would only be a waste of time, for probably the whole thing is so disgustingly simple that everyone has overlooked it.

However, the present, as represented by you, is infinitely more interesting; let the old tower guard the secret it has kept so long; who wants to know it?"

"My husband!" she replied.

"Quite so," said the Secretary. "And that reminds me, I hope you reached home quite safely last night, and have felt no ill effects from it."

"None in body," she returned sadly, "but, of course, what I saw could not but add to my distress of mind. Tell me what happened after I left."

"Nothing particular," said Stanley. "We all kept our tempers and were very polite."

"Then there was no disturbance?"

"None whatever; the Colonel was quite amenable to reason and went away quietly."

"But Mr. Kent-Lauriston?"

"Oh, he's too much a man of the world not to know when to hold his tongue."

"You will not tell your hostess? Promise me that. Badly as he has treated me, I am still his wife, and his honour is yet mine."

"I will keep your secret. If he is discovered in the house, someone else must do it."

"Oh, you're indeed my friend!" she cried impulsively. "I can never forget your goodness to me. There are, I'm sure, few men like you in the world."

The Secretary flushed under her praise, and disclaiming any inherent superiority to the other members of his race, hastened to change the subject by saying:--

"Tell me, are you succeeding any better with your proofs against your husband on another charge?"

"I've made a discovery this morning which has greatly disturbed me. I do not know how to act."

"What have you found?"

"I've compared the handwriting of the letters I hold, with the handwriting of the most recent entry in the marriage register of this church."

"Good Heavens! It surely can't tally----!"

"It does, and with the name of the bride."

The Secretary was simply staggered,--Lady Isabelle--it was impossible on the face of it.

"You're mistaken," he said coldly. "Such charges against the lady to whom you refer are impossible."