Her beautiful eyes brightened.  “He told you—­that?”

“He told me he loved a girl, and was afraid that he would lose her because of the business which brought him to me.  You seem to have been as unreasonable with him, as Ra—­as the man I love could be with me.  Poor Ivor!  Last night was not the first time that he sacrificed himself for chivalry and honour.  Yet you blame me!  Look to yourself, Miss Forrest.”

“I—­I don’t blame you,” she stammered, a sob in her voice.  “Only I beg you to save him, from gratitude, if not from love.”

“It’s true I owe him a debt of gratitude, deeper than you know,” I answered.  “He is worth trusting—­worth saving, at the expense of almost any sacrifice.  But I can’t sacrifice the man I love for him.”

She looked thoughtful.  “You say the man you were engaged to was at your house while Ivor was there?”

“Yes.  He came then.  I hid Ivor, and I lied.”

“He suspected that someone was with you?  He stood watching, outside your gate?”

“He confessed that, when I’d made him repent his jealousy.  Why do you ask?  You saw him?”

“I think so.  Tell me, Mademoiselle de Renzie, did he lose anything of value near your house?”

“Great heavens, yes!” I cried.  “What do you know of that?”

“I know—­something.  Enough, maybe, to help you to find the thing for him—­if you will promise to help Ivor.”

“Oh, shame,” I cried violently, sick of bargains and promises.  “You are trying to bribe me!”

“Yes, but I am not ashamed,” the girl answered, holding her head high.  “I have not the thing which was lost; but I can get it for you—­this very night or to-morrow morning, if you will do what I ask.”

“I tell you I cannot,” I said.  “Not even to get back that thing whose loss was the beginning of all my misery.  Ivor would not wish me to ruin myself and—­another.  Mr. Dundas must be saved without me.  Please go.  If we talked of this together all night, it could make no difference.  And I’m in great trouble, great trouble of my own.”

“Has your trouble anything to do with a document?” Miss Forrest slowly asked.

I started, and stared at her, breathless.

“It has!” she answered for me.  “Your face tells me so.”

“Has Ivor’s message—­to do with that?” I almost gasped.

“Perhaps.  But he had no good news of it to give you.  If you want news—­if you want the document, it must be through me.”

“Anything, anything on earth you like to ask for the document, if you can get it for me, I will do,” I pleaded, all my pride and anger gone.

“I ask you to tell the police that Ivor Dundas was in your house from a little after midnight until after one.  Will you do that?”

“I must,” I said, “if you have the document to sell, and are determined to sell it at no other price.  But if I do what you ask, it will spoil my life, for it will kill my lover’s love, when he knows I have lied to him.  Still, it will save him from—­” I stopped, and bit my lip.  “Will you give me the diamonds, too?” I asked, humbly enough now.