Ailsa caught her breath with a faint, little, sobbing sigh at this, and even if the moon had not chosen just then to slip out from the screen of the enveloping clouds and throw a dusk of silver over everything, so that he could see her face and the deep look of relief in her uplifted eyes, he still would have known what a load his declaration of the General's innocence had lifted from her mind.

"Oh, I am so glad," she said fervently; "so very, very glad! Do you know, I made sure from the manner in which you spoke that, horrible as it seemed, it must surely be he; that you must certainly have discovered something which left no room for doubt in your own mind; otherwise you would not have told me all these terrible things regarding the forged letter and the drugged drink and his meeting with Lady Clavering at the wall door. And now to know that you do not suspect him, that you are sure it was not he that killed De Louvisan, ah, I can't tell you how glad I am."

"How loyal you are to your friends," he said admiringly. "You needn't assure me of your gladness; I can read it in your voice and face. No, General Raynor is not guilty, although I am very positive that he not only was out last night, but was actually at Gleer Cottage; but I am absolutely certain his was not the hand that killed De Louvisan. I will even go further, and say that it would not surprise me to learn that he was not even present at the time of the killing, though there is, of course, always the possibility, in the light of my theory of the whys and wherefores of the case, that he was."

"You have a theory regarding it, then?"

"Yes. I had a vague one in the beginning that became more pronounced when I heard Lady Clavering speak of 'letters' in her interview with the General at the wall door to-night. She also spoke of Margot, recollect. And I have said from the first that a woman was in it."

"And you think that she—that Margot—did it?"

"Did what—the murder? No, I do not. As a matter of fact, I am beginning to believe that the presence of that crafty female in England, and in this particular neighbourhood at this particular time, may possibly have led me to leap to a conclusion which is a long way from the truth. That she meant to see De Louvisan, and, with the aid of her band, deal pretty harshly with him—give him the 'traitor's spike,' in fact—I feel very nearly positive; but I am now beginning to realize there is a possibility that the scrap of pink gauze may not have come from Margot's dress, and that she may not have been at Gleer Cottage last night, after all. In other words, that the woman in the case is not Margot."

"Who then? Lady Clavering?"

"Possibly. There is, however, a chance that it is not even she."

All in a moment Ailsa flamed up.

"You are leaving only Kathie," she said with spirit. "And if you were an angel from heaven you could not make me believe it is she. I know you declare that she was at Gleer Cottage last night; that you say Geoff swears he met her there; but even so——"

"Oh, thank you for reminding me of that dear boy," interjected Cleek, whipping out his watch and glancing at it. "If he keeps his promise, as he doubtless will, he'll be at the lodge gates in exactly twelve minutes, Miss Lorne. And there is another 'dear boy' to consider too, my poor Dollops, who's probably waiting at the wall angle for me to explain my change of tactics with regard to the arrest and release of Sir Philip Clavering. Will you pardon me if I rush off and see him for a few minutes? I'll be back here to join you as quickly as I can, and then, if you will honour me, we'll be off together to the lodge gates to meet Geoff Clavering."

He did not wait for her to reply; did not stop to make any comment upon her remarks regarding Lady Katharine. Moving off as briskly as if he were endeavouring to evade that subject, he slipped soundlessly away through the shrubbery and was gone before she could speak. He was absent for something like eight or ten minutes; then, as silently and as abruptly as he had left her side he issued from the bushes and returned to it.

"Shall we go to meet Geoff?" he asked; and again scarcely waiting for her to reply, led the way in silence.

It was on the tip of Ailsa's tongue to ask him if, after so often expressing his conviction of Lady Katharine's innocence and admitting to-night that he had changed his opinion with regard to one woman's part in this elusive riddle, he had suddenly changed it regarding her, too, when, without preface of any sort, he looked round at her.

"Rum how we English stick to precedent, isn't it?" he said. "Ever remark how faithfully old footmen cling to their 'calves' and old valets cleave to their little black side-whiskers? And, I say, Miss Lorne! what's the fashion in evening petticoats these days? Coloured ones, I mean. Do they have to match the dress that's worn with them or not?"

"Certainly they don't," said Ailsa, looking round at him in surprise. "Good gracious, Mr. Cleek, whatever in the world are you thinking about?"

"I? Oh, nothing in particular. There we are at the lodge gates at last; and here's our man. Come in, bonny boy, come in."

Geoff came up out of the shadow of the two big trees at the entrance and moved swiftly toward the gates.

"Wait a bit," went on Cleek. "I've got a skeleton key handy, and in two shakes of a ram's tail——Told you so! In with you, my lad. Miss Lorne's here with me; and if Loisette wasn't a dreamer and I'm not a fool, you'll be the happiest chap in England to-night. Sh-h-h! don't speak. Walk on your toes, take to the grass, keep in the shadow of the hedge, and get over there to that shrubbery as quickly and as noiselessly as you can. With you in a minute, my boy."

He was. Stopping just long enough to relock the gates and to motion Ailsa to accompany him, he travelled like a fleet-moving shadow across the lawn, and was again with Geoff Clavering.

"Well, here I am as you requested, you see, Mr. Barch," said Geoff. "I don't know what in the world you meant when you told me that thing over the telephone; but whatever it is that's going to make Kathie and me as happy as you promised, I'm ready enough to hear it, God knows."

"Yes, God does know; you're right there, my boy. He knows that Lady Katharine did call you into Gleer Cottage last night, and did send you into the room where that dead man's body hung; and—oh, yes, she did, Miss Lorne. He'll tell you that just as he told me; won't you, Clavering, eh?"

"Yes," said Geoff, and did forthwith, giving all the details just as he had given them to Cleek hours earlier in the General's famous ruin.

"Will you believe now, Miss Lorne?" said Cleek, and then paused and gave a little, shaky, half-suppressed laugh. For, of a sudden, a cuckoo's note had risen softly over the stillness, sounding thrice in rapid succession, as if the bird had mistaken the moon's glamour for the sheen of day dawn, and had sent forth this untimely call.

Hearing it, Cleek knew that what he had so fervently hoped might come to pass really had come to pass, and that the theory of Loisette was about to be vindicated.

"Or, if you will not," he said, taking up the sentence just where the bird note had broken off, "come with me and find proof of it for yourself. Come quickly. Hold your breath. Walk on your toes. Don't make a sound on your lives. This way. Quickly. Come."

He took them each by the hand and, leading the way, passed on tiptoe with them out of the shrubbery and down the hedged path to the mimic ruin. The figure of Dollops rose out of the shadow of it as they came upon the place, moved fleetly and quietly to Cleek's side, and then as quietly slipped round behind him into the shade of the trees.

"All right, gov'ner," he whispered softly. "Over to the left there. Give you the signal the minute I spotted her. Lie low, all of you. Here she comes!"

"Here who comes?" Ailsa and Geoff spoke in concert.

"Lord, I dunno, miss," replied Dollops in a whisper. "Gov'ner said, 'Look sharp for a lady in white, and "cuckoo" when she appears.' Dunno no more than that."

Ailsa flashed round and looked at Cleek.

"Yes, Miss Lorne," he said, answering that look. "Lady Katharine Fordham! She did steal out of the house last night, and— Loisette is right. The mirror of to-night, reflecting the counterpart of yesterday, is duplicating events. Her ladyship is stealing out of the house again, and on the selfsame mission: to visit Gleer Cottage. She will certainly wear a cloak, though not an ermine one, to-night. I looked out to see that one was placed in the anteroom, to make sure of that. Quiet, quiet, all of you! Not a sound, not a breath! Look sharp! You'll see her presently!"

They saw her even then. Of a sudden a footstep sounded, the rustle of moved leaves disturbed the stillness, then the figure of Lady Katharine rounded the angle of the ruin, and advanced toward them with great deliberation. A long dark cloak covered her almost to the feet, the hood of it being drawn up over her head until its loose frill framed her face; but it was easy to see, as she advanced, that under that cloak she wore a gown of white satin and slippers with sparkling buckles on the toes. She came into view so suddenly, and was walking so rapidly, that she was upon them almost as they saw her, walking straight to them, walking straight by them, within touch of them, yet seeming not to care or even to notice, and taking the path which led to the stable gate, to the waste land beyond, and thence to Gleer Cottage. It was then, when she had deliberately walked past them, then, and then only, that Ailsa understood.

"Dear God!" she said in a shaking whisper as she plucked at Cleek's sleeve. "She does not know, she does not understand. She is asleep, Mr. Cleek!"

"Yes," he made answer. "You know now why she looked so haggard and weary this morning, despite her assurance that she had slept well. Poor little woman; poor unhappy little woman! A sleep-walker, Clavering—and going back where her heart leads her: to the cottage where she had often spent those happier days when she was so sure of love and of you!"