place to one of decision; the volcanic energy of the man was working to some definite purpose.  He glanced around at us; and as his eyes lighted on Nurse Kennedy his eyebrows went up a trifle.  She noted the look, and glanced interrogatively at Miss Trelawny, who flashed back a reply with a glance.  She went quietly from the room, closing the door behind her.  Mr. Corbeck looked first at me, with a strong man’s natural impulse to learn from a man rather than a woman; then at Miss Trelawny, with a remembrance of the duty of courtesy, and said: 

“Tell me all about it.  How it began and when!” Miss Trelawny looked at me appeallingly; and forthwith I told him all that I knew.  He seemed to make no motion during the whole time; but insensibly the bronze face became steel.  When, at the end, I told him of Mr. Marvin’s visit and of the Power of Attorney, his look began to brighten.  And when, seeing his interest in the matter, I went more into detail as to its terms, he spoke: 

“Good!  Now I know where my duty lies!”

With a sinking heart I heard him.  Such a phrase, coming at such a time, seemed to close the door to my hopes of enlightenment.

“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling that my question was a feeble one.

His answer emphasized my fears: 

“Trelawny knows what he is doing.  He had some definite purpose in all that he did; and we must not thwart him.  He evidently expected something to happen, and guarded himself at all points.”

“Not at all points!” I said impulsively.  “There must have been a weak spot somewhere, or he wouldn’t be lying here like that!” Somehow his impassiveness surprised me.  I had expected that he would find a valid argument in my phrase; but it did not move him, at least not in the way I thought.  Something like a smile flickered over his swarthy face as he answered me: 

“This is not the end!  Trelawny did not guard himself to no purpose.  Doubtless, he expected this too; or at any rate the possibility of it.”

“Do you know what he expected, or from what source?” The questioner was Miss Trelawny.

The answer came at once:  “No!  I know nothing of either.  I can guess . . .”  He stopped suddenly.

“Guess what?” The suppressed excitement in the girl’s voice was akin to anguish.  The steely look came over the swarthy face again; but there was tenderness and courtesy in both voice and manner as he replied: 

“Believe me, I would do anything I honestly could to relieve you anxiety.  But in this I have a higher duty.”

“What duty?”

“Silence!” As he spoke the word, the strong mouth closed like a steel trap.

We all remained silent for a few minutes.  In the intensity of our thinking, the silence became a positive thing; the small sounds of life within and without the house seemed intrusive.  The first to break it was Miss Trelawny.  I had seen an idea—­a hope—­flash in her eyes; but she steadied herself before speaking: