“It pleases you to speak in parables this morning,” I said.

“Mr. Crocker,” she began again, when she had regained her speech, “shall I tell you of a great misfortune which might happen to a girl?”

“I should be pleased to hear it,” I replied courteously.

“That misfortune, then, would be to fall in love with you.”

“Happily that is not within the limits of probability,” I answered, beginning to be a little amused.  “But why?”

“Lightning often strikes where it is least expected,” she replied archly.  “Listen.  If a young woman were unlucky enough to lose her heart to you, she might do everything but tell you, and you would never know it.  I scarcely believe you would know it if she did tell you.”

I must have jumped unconsciously.

“Oh, you needn’t think I am in love with you.”

“Not for a minute,” I made haste to say.

She pointed towards the timber-covered hills beyond the shore.

“Do you see that stream which comes foaming down the notch into the lake in front of us?” she asked.  “Let us suppose that you lived in a cabin beside that brook; and that once in a while, when you went out to draw your water, you saw a nugget of—­gold washing along with the pebbles on the bed.  How many days do you think you would be in coming to the conclusion that there was a pocket of gold somewhere above you, and in starting in search of it?”

“Not long, surely.”

“Ah, you are not lacking in perception there.  But if I were to tell you that I knew of the existence of such a mine, from various proofs I have had, and that the mine was in the possession of a certain person who was quite willing to share it with you on application, you would not believe me.”

“Probably not.”

“Well,” said Miss Trevor, with a nod of finality, “I was actually about to make such a disclosure.  But I see it would be useless.”

I confess she aroused my curiosity.  No coaxing, however, would induce her to interpret.

“No,” she insisted strangely, “if you cannot put two and two together, I fear I cannot help you.  And no one I ever heard of has come to any good by meddling.”

Miss Trevor folded her hands across her lap.  She wore that air which I am led to believe is common to all women who have something of importance to disclose; or at least what they consider is of importance.  There was an element of pity, too, in her expression.  For she had given me my chance, and my wits had been found wanting.

Do not let it be surmised that I attach any great value to such banter as she had been indulging in.  At the same time, however, I had an uneasy feeling that I had missed something which might have been to my advantage.  It was in vain that I whipped my dull senses; but one conclusion was indicated by all this inference, and I don’t care even to mention that:  it was preposterous.

Then Miss Trevor shifted to a very serious mood.  She honestly did her best to persuade me to relinquish our enterprise, to go to Mr. Cooke and confess the whole thing.