"Has your father any suspicion who killed Daisy?"
"No.
He says he has not."
"Why did he ask her to leave the church?
And how did he manage it?"
"He wished to speak to her about George Franklin, who would inherit the money if she died.
I believe he intended to warn her that George was dangerous, for he hates my uncle."
"Did your father know that the money had been left at the time?"
"No.
It was only because he was on the spot that he wished to see Daisy.
He wrote on a scrap of paper that he wished to see her about the money, and she came out."
"She was always eager after that miserable money," said Ware sadly. "But your father did know that Powell was dead at the time, Anne." And he told her of his discoveries in connection with the office boy. "So you see your father was in England masquerading as Wilson," he finished.
"Yes," said Anne, with a shudder, "I see now.
But he told me nothing of this.
Indeed, I can't understand my father at all."
"Do you know the meaning of the Scarlet Cross?"
"No; he refuses to tell me.
He won't say why he pretended to be dead; and in every way he is most mysterious.
But I am fond of my father, Giles, although I know he is not a good man.
But he did not kill Daisy; I am sure of that.
And even at the time I thought he had done so I saved him.
After all he may be as bad as possible; but he is my father, and I owe him a daughter's affection."
Giles would have argued this, but at the moment Anne started to her feet.
She heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and without a word to Giles she flew over the low wall and darted across the park.
He was too astonished by this sudden departure to say a word.
He had lost her again.
But he knew where she was after all. _____
CHAPTER XVIII
WHAT HAPPENED NEXT
Giles left the churchyard slowly, with his brain in a whirl.
Anne had departed in hot haste, taking shelter in her hiding-place, and he dare not follow unless he wanted it to be discovered.
He never knew who it was, whose footsteps had startled her away.
When she left him he remained for quite ten minutes where he was, in a kind of dazed condition.
The footsteps were not heard now.
So intent had he been upon Anne's flight, and on the amazing things she had told him, that he had not noticed when they ceased.
Then it occurred to him that they had retreated—just as though a person had been listening and had hastily gone away.
But of this he could not be sure.
All he did know was that when he rounded the corner there was not a soul in sight.
And nothing remained but to go home.
Olga and her mother did not put in an appearance on this night, so Giles had ample time to think over his meeting with Anne.
He did not see how he could help her, and the story she had related bewildered, instead of enlightening him.
After a time he rearranged the details, and concluded that, in spite of all denial, her father was the guilty person, and the crime had been committed for the sake of the Powell money.
"Whether the Scarlet Cross indicates a political society or is the symbol of a thieves' association," said Giles to himself, "I can't say until Steel is more certain of his ground.
But this Alfred Denham, or Walter Franklin, or whatever he chooses to call himself, is evidently a bad lot.
He has sufficient love for his daughter to keep his iniquities from her, and that is why Anne is so much in the dark.
I quite believe that she thinks her father innocent, and saved him on the spur of the moment.
But he is guilty for all that."
And then Giles proceeded to work out the case as it presented itself to him.
Walter Franklin—as he found it most convenient to call him—was a scoundrel who preyed on society, and who by some mischance had a pure and good daughter like Anne.
To keep her from knowing how bad he was—and the man apparently valued her affection—he sent her to be a governess.