"I don't want to speak any more about it," she said resolutely. "I am very sorry I told Frank the story, and meddled with those papers. Let me pass, Mr. Tait, and drop the subject."
"No, don't do that," cried Tait, rising in his turn, and barring her way. "You must not fail me at the eleventh hour. My friend is bent on learning the truth, and surely you will not grudge him help. Remember it is the murderer of his father whom he desires to bring to justice."
"I can't say any more. I know no more, Mr. Tait. Do you know what I am about to do?"
"No," said Tait, looking at her grave face in some wonder.
"I am going home to tell my father and Kerry what use I made of those papers. If I have acted wrongly, it is but right that they should know."
"They will know shortly without your telling, Miss Jenny."
"Ah, you intend to speak of the matter yourself?"
"Perhaps! But in this case I allude to Hilliston."
"Hilliston!" repeated Jenny, in surprise. "What has he to do with the matter?"
"A great deal, I fancy. More than you or I suspect. He is now at Eastbourne, and I am certain he will come over here to see you to-morrow."