There was something about the fellow that I liked. I even felt a certain pity for him as I passed him and rode on. He seemed simple and guileless, but with a dogged manliness beneath his absurdities. He was undoubtedly deeply attached to Helen Holbrook and his pursuit of her partook of a knight-errantish quality that would have appealed to me in other circumstances; but he was the most negligible figure that had yet appeared in the Holbrook affair, and as I put my horse to the lope my thoughts reverted to Red Gate. That chess game and Helen's visit to her father were still to be explained; if I could cut those cards out of the pack I should be ready for something really difficult. I employed myself with such reflections as I completed my sweep round the lake, reaching Glenarm shortly after two o'clock.
I was hot and hungry, and grateful for the cool breath of the house as I entered the hall.
"Miss Holbrook is waiting in the library," Ijima announced; and in a moment I faced Miss Pat, who stood in one of the open French windows looking out upon the wood.
She appeared to be deeply absorbed and did not turn until I spoke.
"I have waited for some time; I have something of importance to tell you, Mr. Donovan," she began, seating herself.
"Yes, Miss Holbrook."
"You remember that this morning, on our way to the chapel, Helen spoke of our game of chess yesterday?"
"I remember perfectly," I replied; and my heart began to pound suddenly, for I knew what the next sentence would be.
"Helen was not at St. Agatha's at the time she indicated."
"Well, Miss Pat," I laughed, "Miss Holbrook doesn't have to account to me for her movements. It isn't important—"