"My father is weak in the head, and perhaps was afraid to come out in the midst of such trouble. But if you put in the advertisement that I—his daughter—am in England, he will come to me, for with me he knows he is safe. Also call on Dr. Jorce, and find out the truth about Signor Ferruci."
"And then?"
"Then when you have done these two things we shall see what will come of them. Promise me to do what I ask you."
"I promise," said Lucian, taking her hand, "but you send me on a wild-goose chase."
"That may be, Lucian, but my heart—my presentiment—my—instinct—whatever you like to call it—tells me otherwise. Now let us go inside."
"Shall we tell Miss Barbar of our engagement?" asked Denzil timidly.
"No; you will tell no one of that until we learn the truth of this conspiracy. When we do, Lucian, you will find that my father is not dead but is alive, and will be at our wedding."
"I doubt it—I doubt it."
"I am sure of it," answered Diana, and slipping her hand within the arm of her lover she walked with him up to the house. It was the strangest of wooings.
Miss Barbar, with a true woman's interest in love affairs, was inclined to congratulate them both when they entered, deeming—as the chance had been so propitious—that Lucian had proposed. But Diana looked so stern, and Lucian so gloomy, that she held her peace.