"Yes; my room is nearer the head of the stairs than hers; if she had passed my door, I should have heard her, don’t you see?"
Ah, that was all.
"That does not follow," I answered sadly. "Can you give no other reason?"
"I would say whatever was necessary," she whispered.
I started back. Yes, this woman would lie now to save her cousin; had lied during the inquest. But then I felt grateful, and now I was simply horrified.
"Miss Leavenworth," said I, "nothing can justify one in violating the dictates of his own conscience, not even the safety of one we do not altogether love."
"No?" she returned; and her lip took a tremulous curve, the lovely bosom heaved, and she softly looked away.
If Eleanore’s beauty had made less of an impression on my fancy, or her frightful situation awakened less anxiety in my breast, I should have been a lost man from that moment.
"I did not mean to do anything very wrong," Miss Leavenworth continued. "Do not think too badly of me."
"No, no," said I; and there is not a man living who would not have said the same in my place.
What more might have passed between us on this subject I cannot say, for just then the door opened and a man entered whom I recognized as the one who had followed Eleanore Leavenworth out, a short time before.
"Mr. Gryce," said he, pausing just inside the door; "a word if you please."
The detective nodded, but did not hasten towards
