“And if the girl really knows?” he asked of the woman who stood there motionless, gazing out across the lawn fixedly towards the dawn.

“If she knows, James,” she said in a hard, decisive tone, “then we must act together, quickly and fearlessly.  We must carry out that—­that plan you proposed a year ago!”

“You are quite fearless, then,” he asked, looking straight into her fine eyes.

“Fearless?  Of course I am,” she answered unflinchingly.  “We must get rid of her.”

“Providing we can do so without any suspicion falling upon us.”

“You seem to have become quite white-livered,” she exclaimed to him with a harsh, derisive laugh.  “You were not so a year ago—­in the other affair.”

His brows contracted as he reflected upon all it meant to him.  The girl knew something; therefore, to seal her lips was imperative for their own safety.  She was their enemy.

“You are mistaken,” he answered in a low calm voice.  “I am just as determined—­just as fearless—­as I was then.”

“And you will do it?” she asked.

“If it is your wish,” he replied simply.

“Good!  Give me your hand.  We are agreed.  It shall be done.”

And the man took the slim white hand the woman held out to him, and a moment later they ascended the great oak staircase to their respective rooms.

The pair were in accord.  The future contained for Gabrielle Heyburn—­asleep and all unconscious of the dastardly conspiracy—­only that which must be hideous, tragic, fatal.

CHAPTER V

THE MURIES OF CONNACHAN

Elise, Lady Heyburn’s French maid, discovered next morning that an antique snake-bracelet was missing, a loss which occasioned great consternation in the household.

Breakfast was late, and at table, when the loss was mentioned, Gabrielle offered to drive over to Connachan in the car and make inquiry and search.  The general opinion was that it had been dropped in one of the rooms, and was probably still lying there undiscovered.

The girl’s offer was accepted, and half an hour later the smaller of the two Glencardine cars—­the “sixteen” Fiat—­was brought round to the door by Stokes, the smart chauffeur.  Young Gellatly, fresh down from Oxford, begged to be allowed to go with her, and his escort was accepted.

Then, in motor-cap and champagne-coloured dust-veil, Gabrielle mounted at the wheel, with the young fellow at her side and Stokes in the back, and drove away down the long avenue to the high-road.