"I know practically nothing at all about the sad event. The Squire went up to bed about an hour after you left, complaining of a headache. He had not been gone long when Kingsford appeared in a great state of alarm, excitedly exclaiming that he had entered Mr. Carrington's bedroom to assist him in undressing and had found what he believed to be your father's murdered corpse lying on the floor."
"On the floor! Then we might have known he was not dead, for he was clutching the sheets of the bed."
"Yes, he was laid on the bed directly I could get the butler to help me. Then I scribbled that note to you and sent Kingsford with it, much to his surprise on learning where you were. The rest you know. But you—you escaped, then?"
"Yes, indeed, but I know no more than I did before I started."
"And Major Farnell?"
"Is a gentleman—a man of mystery. His real name is Meadows, or at least he says it is. He has a villain of a servant, who tried to frighten me, and, lastly, he has a secret. But whether he is the real enemy of my poor father I do not know. His certainly was not the hand that was raised against the Squire to-day, for I was with him when this second attack must have been made."
"And the servant, was he in the room the whole time?" asked Lena, breathlessly.
"Great goodness, no! Why, who knows but that he is the man who wages such warfare against my father? And Meadows' secret is his knowledge of his man's mysterious connection with poor old dad! You're right; it must be so, Miss Scott. But," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "I have returned from Durley Dene, and once again I ask you the question to which you postponed your answer this morning."
"Hush!" replied the girl. "I cannot answer now, when death has come so near to the house, and this dreadful mystery is yet unsolved. But——"
His hand stole softly to hers, which lay upon the window-sill.