“It’s all right, my dear.”

She felt his lips just touch her wrist. The he went quickly out of the room and shut the door.

With mingled sadness and relief Rachel turned to listen to what her bank manager had to say.

Chapter Twenty-six

Miss Silver came along the passage from her room and stopped at Caroline Ponsonby’s door. She turned the handle noiselessly, and was aware of a curtained dusk, and silence. These were expected. She pushed the door an inch or two and listened for the sound of measured breathing. But it was a very different sound which broke the silence. Miss Silver’s hand closed hard upon the knob, for what she heard was Richard Treherne speaking in a tone of agony.

“Caroline! Caroline! Caroline!”

Miss Silver stood where she was for a moment. Then she pushed the door a little wider and looked around it. Caroline lay on her bed with her face half hidden in the pillow, whilst Richard, on his knees beside her, buried his face in his hands and groaned.

As a gentlewoman, the thought of eavesdropping was extremely repugnant to Miss Silver. As a detective engaged upon a case of attempted murder, she treated her scruples with exemplary firmness. She heard Caroline give a heartbroken sob, and hoped very much that she would be permitted to hear something rather more articulate.

Her hope was fulfilled. Richard’s head came up with a jerk.

“Oh, my darling-don’t! You’re tearing my heart out. I tell you I can’t bear it. You turn away from me, you refuse me, you look at me as if I was a stranger, you faint-and you won’t tell me why. Do you think it’s any use pretending with me? Oh, my darling, you know it isn’t. What is it all about? You’ve got to tell me. You can’t go on like this. You’re breaking your heart, and you won’t say why.”

Caroline spoke in a muffled voice against her pillow.

“I can’t go on. I can’t say why. I don’t need to-you know.”

“I know?”

“You know-I know-I can’t go on.” She raised her head suddenly. “Richard, will you go away-right away and never come back? Will you swear that you will never come back?”

“Caroline!”

She caught his wrist and pulled herself up.

“You must! I tell you I know. You’ve got to go away. It’s killing me.”

“Caroline!”

She pushed back the hair from her eyes, and staring over his shoulder, she saw Miss Silver peering round the door. The neatly netted front disappeared a fraction of a second too late. There was a discreet knock.

When Miss Silver entered, Caroline’s face was hidden again. Mr. Richard Treherne was on his feet. If anyone was embarrassed, it was not the visitor.

“I thought I heard voices,” she said brightly. She addressed a glowering young man. “I hope Miss Caroline is feeling better-but I only came to inquire, not to disturb her. I feel sure she needs quiet and should on no account be disturbed, but I thought I might just inquire.”

Richard strode to the door and out of the room. For a moment Miss Silver looked after him with a peculiar expression on her face. Then she approached the bed.

“Miss Caroline,” she said, “I am a stranger, but my business in this house is to help Miss Treherne who brought me here. I think you need help too. You are in great trouble-you know something which you are afraid to tell. Believe me, the truth is always best. Sometimes it is easier to speak to a stranger than to someone in the same family. If you will tell me what is troubling you, I will do my best to help you. I have no connection with the police, and this affair is not as yet in their hands. It is still possible for me to help you. But if you will not speak to me, let me urge you very strongly to cross that passage and go to Miss Treherne. She loves you dearly. There is nothing that you could not tell her. If you remain silent, great harm may come of it.”

There was a pause. Then Caroline raised herself upon her elbow. Her eyes were wide and blank with misery, her features pinched and drawn, her color ghastly. Miss Silver looked at her with compassion. She spoke in a gentle voice.

“I heard what you said just now. You told Mr. Richard that you knew. What is it that you know? It would be better for everyone if you would say.”

Caroline stared at her. She said rather wildly,

“I can’t think-I’m ill-I want to think. Oh, won’t you please go away?”

Miss Silver nodded.

“Very well, I will go away and leave you to think over what I have said. I do not wish to hurry you, but it will be better for everyone if you will make up your mind as quickly as possible.”

She went out of the room and shut the door. As she did so she saw the girl sink back again and hide her face.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Rachel Treherne’s door opened. Miss Silver was beckoned in.

“Will you please come here. I must speak to you. Something has happened.”

Miss Silver looked at her with interest. It was quite obvious that something had happened. This was a Rachel Treherne she had not met before, alert, businesslike, angry-yes, certainly very angry.

Rachel shut the door and walked away from it, but remained standing.

“Miss Silver, my bank manager has just rung me up. A cheque bearing my signature had been presented, and as it was for a very large sum, he thought it best to refer to me before cashing it.”

“Yes?” said Miss Silver.

“The cheque was made out to my brother-in-law Ernest Wadlow, and was endorsed by him in favor of his son Maurice. It was not crossed.”

“Did you write this cheque, Miss Treherne?”

Rachel’s head lifted. She said in a perfectly level voice,

“I gave my brother-in-law a cheque for a hundred pounds three days ago. He asked me not to cross it.”

“Did he say why?”

“I understood that he wanted the money for Maurice, and that he thought the uncrossed cheque would be more convenient.”

“And it is this cheque which is in question?”

Anger made a very handsome woman of Rachel Treherne.

“I don’t recognize the amount. I gave Ernest a cheque for a hundred. The cheque presented was for ten thousand.”

Miss Silver looked very grave.

“I do not understand,” she said. “The figure would be altered easily enough, but the words-Miss Treherne, it would be impossible to change one hundred into ten thousand, unless the forger took the risk of simply making the alterations and initialling them-and with so large a sum there would be no chance of that succeeding. The drawer would inevitably be referred to.”

Rachel shook her head.

“The words were not altered-they were forged. The number of the cheque is not the same as the one I drew-it is the next one. And that cheque is missing from my book. Either Ernest or Maurice must have torn it out and copied the cheque I drew-with a difference. I felt bound to tell you about it.”

Miss Silver said, “Yes-” in rather an abstracted tone.

Rachel’s foot tapped the floor.

“Either my brother-in-law or his son had planned to rob me of this money-they may both have been concerned. Ernest and Mabel are quite besotted about Maurice. They had been pestering me to give them just this sum, and I had refused. So somebody forged that cheque. Now I want you to think what bearing this may have on what happened yesterday.”

Miss Silver gazed at her mildly.

“A person who had just forged your signature to a cheque for ten thousand pounds would be the last person on earth to push you over a cliff before that cheque had been cleared. Your death would have rendered it quite valueless.”

“I know that. But think of it this way. You forge a cheque, you let it go out of your hands, and then you begin to think what a frightful risk you have run. Even if it goes through, even if you get the money, there’s bound to be a day of reckoning. You may not be prosecuted, but you are bound to be exposed and ostracized. You won’t be a part of the family any more. Don’t you think you might cast about you for some way out?” Her voice hardened. “Maurice would have come in for just that ten thousand pounds if I had been killed last night.”