the nature of what confronted them; for it was plain that they—Barney and she—in some way yet unknown to either of them, involved her grandfather and Kincheloe in undertakings which stopped at nothing. It was not Barney Loutrelle who had lain, bleeding, on the floor of that grand old salon in the new house on Resurrection Rock; but some one last night had expired there and been carried out to the lake.
But Barney knew nothing of that yet; her explanation of her fears for him meant nothing except that she had been alarmed about him and had tried to aid him.
"Leave her alone!" he said. "Leave her alone!" he repeated, putting himself between her and her grandfather. "She has something to say to me; and I have much to tell her. I came to see her. You can give us this room, or we will go out; won't we, Miss Carew?" he asked her.
"Yes," she said. "Yes."
"What?" her grandfather threatened. "What? You think you will go with this—this—" he stopped with a snort of contempt. But he was not feeling contempt, Ethel saw as she watched him. He had won this morning over Barney Loutrelle; for Barney had not known even that any one had been killed at the Rock. Her grandfather had won over her; for he had found out that she had so little idea as to who was dead that she thought it was Barney, and he had succeeded in making her ridiculous when she accused him. But now fear was returning to him; he feared to permit her, knowing what she knew, to go with Barney.
For a moment he seemed to consider laying hands on her and by physical force constraining her from going out; but now he recognized that Barney would
