He had sealed it once, as he thought.  Her fear to explain to her father the incident of the opening of the safe had given him confidence that no word of the truth regarding the past would ever pass her lips.  Yet he saw that his own machinations were now likely to prove his undoing.  The web which, with her ladyship’s assistance, he had woven about her was now stretched to breaking-point.  If it did yield, then the result must be ruin—­and worse.  Therefore, he was straining every effort to again reinstate her in her father’s good graces and restore in her mind something akin to confidence.  But all his arguments, as he walked on at her side in the gathering gloom, proved useless.  She was in no mood to listen to the man who had been her evil genius ever since her school-days.  As he was speaking she was wondering if she dared go to Walter Murie and tell him everything.  What would her lover think of her?  What indeed?  He would only cast her aside as worthless.  No.  Far better that he should remain in ignorance and retain only sad memories of their brief happiness.

“I am going to Glencardine to-night,” Flockart went on.  “I shall join the mail at Peterborough.  What shall I tell your father?”

“Tell him the truth,” was her reply.  “That, I know, you will not do.  So why need we waste further words?”

“Do you actually refuse, then, to leave this dismal hole?” he demanded impatiently.

“Yes, until I speak, and tell my father the plain and ghastly story.”

“Rubbish!” he ejaculated.  “You’ll never do that—­unless you wish to stand beside me in a criminal dock.”

“Well, rather that than be your cat’s-paw longer, Mr. Flockart!” she cried, her face flushing with indignation.

“Oh, oh!” he laughed, still quite imperturbed.  “Come, come!  This is scarcely a wise reply, my dear little girl!”

“I wish you to leave me.  You have insulted my intelligence enough this evening, surely—­you, who only a moment ago declared yourself my friend!”

Slowly he selected a cigarette from his gold case, and, halting, lit it.  “Well, if you meet my well-meant efforts on your behalf with open antagonism like this I can’t make any further suggestion.”

“No, please don’t.  Go up to Glencardine and do your worst for me.  I am now fully able to take care of myself,” she exclaimed in defiance.  “You can also write to Lady Heyburn, and tell her that I am still, and that I always will remain, my blind father’s friend.”

“But why don’t you listen to reason, Gabrielle?” he implored her.  “I don’t now seek to lessen or deny the wrongs I have done you in the past, nor do I attempt to conceal from you my own position.  My only object is to bring you and Walter together again.  Her ladyship knows the whole circumstances, and deeply regrets them.”

“Her regret will be the more poignant some day, I assure you.”

“Then you really intend to act vindictively?”