there is darkness and trouble and wickedness yet that I dare not speak
of. And you are in danger. Already Reginald Henson has shown you what
he can do."

"And yet he doesn't know everything," David smiled. "He may have stabbed
me in the back, but he is quite ignorant as to what advice I gave to Enid
Henson, which brings me back to the cigar-case. You saw me looking at it
in Lockhart's. Go on."

"Yes, I watched you with a great deal of curiosity. Finally you went off
out of the shop saying that you could not afford to buy the cigar-case,
and I thought no more of the matter for a time. Then we found out all
about your private affairs. Oh, I am ashamed almost to go on."

The dainty little face grew crimson; the hand in David's trembled.

"But we were desperate. And, after all, we were doing no harm. It was
just then that the idea of the cigar-case came into my mind. We knew that
if we could get you to take that money it would only be as a loan. I
suggested the gift of the case as a memento of the occasion. I purchased
that case with my own money and I placed it with its contents on the
doorstep of your house."

"Did you watch it all the time?"

"No, I didn't. But I was satisfied that nobody passed, and I was
sufficiently near to hear your door open at the hour appointed. Of
course, we had carefully rehearsed the telephone conversation, and I knew
exactly what to do."