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"We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o'clock, my friend

and I. The Rucastles will be gone by that time, and Toller will,

we hope, be incapable. There only remains Mrs. Toller, who might

give the alarm. If you could send her into the cellar on some

errand, and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitate

matters immensely."

"I will do it."

"Excellent! We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of

course there is only one feasible explanation. You have been

brought there to personate someone, and the real person is

imprisoned in this chamber. That is obvious. As to who this

prisoner is, I have no doubt that it is the daughter, Miss Alice

Rucastle, if I remember right, who was said to have gone to

America. You were chosen, doubtless, as resembling her in height,

figure, and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off, very

possibly in some illness through which she has passed, and so, of

course, yours had to be sacrificed also. By a curious chance you

came upon her tresses. The man in the road was undoubtedly some

friend of hers-possibly her fiance-and no doubt, as you wore the

girl's dress and were so like her, he was convinced from your

laughter, whenever he saw you, and afterwards from your gesture,

that Miss Rucastle was perfectly happy, and that she no longer

desired his attentions.