We stared at one another for quite sixty seconds: she standing white-faced and tongue-tied near her chair, I kneeling by the open portmanteau to display the cloak. When I would have spoken, she flung up a protesting hand to silence me.

"How do you know it is my cloak?"

"The embroidery in blue silk repeats the initials of your name."

"And you found it in the field, where the motor car was stranded?"

"I did, concealed in a hedge."

"Where I concealed it?"

"I don\'t say that."

Gertrude stepped back and clutched at her breast. "Don\'t you believe that I am the woman who stole your car?"

"No, I don\'t."

"Don\'t you believe that I murdered Anne for the sake of the eye?"

"No, I don\'t."

"But on what ground"--she flung abroad her arms--"do you believe me to be innocent?"

"I love you."

"You love me," she repeated mechanically.

I rose, still holding the cloak in my arms, and spoke vehemently. "Of course you must have seen for days that I love you. I came here because I fell in love with your photograph, and because I found this." I shook the cloak. "Yes! Can you not understand that I desired to save you."

"To save me. From what?"

"From arrest. Had anyone but myself found the cloak you would have been in prison long, long ago. But I told no one about my discovery. I hid the cloak in my portmanteau and came here to seek an explanation. I knew that you would be able to exculpate yourself."

"Then you needed an explanation?" she asked in low tones.

"Only that I might learn how to save you. I needed no explanation to assure me that you are innocent. For a moment I had my doubts, when Miss Destiny spoke to me, yesterday----"

Gertrude interrupted with a cry and the scarlet blood flushed her cheeks swiftly. "Aunt Julia has been speaking to you?"

"I have been speaking to Aunt Julia. Listen. I saw long ago that your aunt was not your friend, and I feared lest she should make mischief. I therefore called to see her yesterday, so that I might learn how much she knows. She told me----"

"I know what she told you," interrupted Gertrude again, and flung back her head; "she came to me this morning, as I explained, and said all manner of dreadful things."

"Such as----?"

"I shall tell you, so that you may see I place myself entirely in your hands, Mr. Vance. Aunt Julia declared that I was at Mootley on the evening of the murder; that the hat-pin with which Anne was stabbed belonged to me; and that she saw my white cloak on the lady who drove the motor car, whom she believed to be myself escaping. She threatened to tell the police all these things unless I gave her half of the fifty thousand pounds. As if I could--as if I could!" wailed Gertrude, dropping into her seat. "I do not know where it is."

"Why not learn from the glass eye?"

She looked up astonished. "I have not got the glass eye."

I stared in my turn. "Listen, Miss Monk. In the face of what you have told me, and of what your aunt has said, I believe that you are innocent."

"Thank God for that," she muttered. "I could not have endured an accusation from you."

On hearing this it was with the greatest difficulty that I prevented myself from taking her in my arms to kiss away the tears. But there was much to be cleared up before I could do that, as I wished her to understand my entire belief in her innocence. "But," I went on with emphasis, "while I know that your account of the interview with Mrs. Caldershaw is correct, I ask you to trust me--as I am your firm friend--fully."

"I have trusted you fully," she said plaintively.

"What about the glass eye? Are you sure that Mrs. Caldershaw did not allow you to carry it away when you left by the back door to escape meeting this mysterious person you speak of."

"I am quite sure," said Gertrude, rising with great dignity, "that Mrs. Caldershaw\'s glass eye was in her head when I ran from her house. I was in such a hurry to escape meeting the person I mentioned that I left my cloak behind me, and also one of the blue glass-headed pins which fastened my hat. I can guess what happened. The assassin killed Anne with the hat-pin, stole the glass eye, and then assumed my cloak to escape, and perhaps," she added, with an afterthought, "to throw the blame of the crime on me."

"And the assassin was this person whom you did not wish to meet?"

Her hands trembled. "I think not: I hope not. I--I--I can\'t answer your questions, Mr. Vance. But why," she continued hurriedly, "why do you mention the glass eye in connection with my not having--as you declare--trusted you fully?"

"Because I saw the very eye on the small table near the middle window of the drawing-room at The Lodge."

She rose quickly and looked aghast. "You--saw-the--glass eye there?" she said slowly. "When?"

"Yesterday." And I rapidly explained the circumstance. "I thought that you had the eye in your pocket when I came afterwards into the room with your father," I said, "and because I fancied Miss Destiny might have seen it, I went along, in your interest, to interview her. But from what she said I am convinced that you had concealed it before she could set eyes on it."

"Stop!" cried Gertrude. "I did not conceal it. I never saw the glass eye save in Anne\'s head. If I had that eye you must think me guilty." And her eyes searched my face.

"No," I said firmly; "I only thought that perhaps, not quite trusting me, you did not say that Anne Caldershaw had given it to you."

"But she did not. I have told everything. You know the reason why I went to Mootley, and all that took place. I left Anne in good health and walked to Murchester to catch the train. Don\'t you believe me?"

"Oh," I advanced towards her anxiously, "can\'t you see that I believe you entirely. Nothing will ever persuade me that you are guilty. All I ask is for absolute confidence, so that I can find the true assassin and free you from the danger of being denounced by your vindictive aunt."

"I have given you my absolute confidence," she said with dignity, yet not unmoved by my declaration.

"Not entirely. I do not know the sex or the name of the person from whom you fled at the corner shop."

Gertrude turned swiftly towards the window. "I can answer no question on that point," she said in low tones.

"Do you think this person had possession of the eye?" I persisted.

"No! no! no! Ask me no more, I have told you all that I can tell you."

"I will only ask one question, which--if I am to learn the truth about this case, and save you from arrest--I must have answered. Do you believe that the person in question is guilty?"

She turned with a pearly-white face. "No, the person is not guilty. Do you wish me to swear it?"

Her question was sarcastic, and I winced. "I believe your bare word," I said somewhat coldly; "have I not proved my belief?"

"Forgive me." In her turn she moved towards me, and laid a beseeching hand on my arm. "You are my best friend and indeed my only friend. I have no one but you to trust."

"And love?" I asked, trying to catch her hands. "No! no!" she drew away; "not yet."

"Yes, now. We must understand one another. I am not content with friendship, Gertrude, I want your love."

"But--but it is so sudden!" she stammered.

"Sudden. When I have been eating my heart out ever since I set eyes on your portrait? Oh, my dear, you can\'t believe that."

"But--but," she made another objection. "There is so much to talk about."

"We can talk all the easier when we understand one another. Surely you can see how devoted I am to you."

"I know that; oh yes, I know that; indeed I do."

"Then--" I held out my hands.

"Mr. Vance?"

"Call me by my name."

"Indeed I can\'t--oh no--oh no."

"Gertrude!" this time I became masterful and possessed myself of her unwilling hands, "is there anyone else?"

"No; certainly there is not."

"You don\'t love Striver."

"The idea! I never heard such nonsense."

"You are about to hear a good deal of nonsense. When a sensible man such as I am is in love, he talks his heart out."

She did not draw away her hands, but laughed softly in spite of her fears and insistent troubles. "What you say can never be nonsense."

"Then you love me?" I demanded persistently. "Yes; it\'s no use my denying it, I do love you."

"Gertrude!" I caught her fully in my arms and, before she could turn her head aside, had pressed my lips to her own. She bore the embrace for one moment, then pushed me away, and retreating to the armchair sat down to cry softly. I followed. "Gertrude darling!"

"Oh, what is the use of talking? How can we behave in this way, when all things are wrong? I do love you: it is useless to say that I do not. But my heart aches with pain."

"Darling," I knelt beside her, "I am here to help you."

"I know. I accept your help gladly, and I thank God for having sent a good man to help me."

"Dear, don\'t think of me as good, I have no end of faults."

"You would not be human otherwise, and for those faults I love you all the more, Mr.----"

"Gertrude?"

"Well then, Cyrus."

"Dearest, my own; you will marry me?"

"Some day, when----" She suddenly rose, and assumed a resolute air. "Cyrus, we must not fiddle while our Rome is burning. Tell me how the glass eye came to be at The Lodge?"

I fell into............