After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone.

"I want to have no secrets from you, Marian," Laura said, "but I'm sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memories of those happy days with Walter Hartright. And I have to tell you, Marian, Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved."

I stared at her, and what little hope I had left began to die.

"It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons and recommended a Mr Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name and my husband noticed. "So it was him, was it?" he said, with a horrible smile. "Well, we will see about Mr Hartright. You will be sorry, and so will he, to the end of your lives." And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me, day in, day out."

"Oh, Laura!" I said, putting my arms around her. This was my fault -- yes, my fault! I remembered the white despair of Walter's face as I told him to leave, as I tore these two young hearts apart. And I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde.

"It's hard to tell in this light," I said, then called out, "Who's there?" There was no answer.

By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly.

The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet and thought she must have dropped it near the lake. She went off to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr Kyrle.

It was growing dark when we set out for home, and as we left Laura seized my arm. "Marian, look!"

For Sir Percival Glyde.

"I'm sure it's following us," whispered Laura. "Is it a man or a woman?" She was shaking with fear.

We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached home, I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants, the housekeeper -- all were inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?

One o'clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not to be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little way along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, "Are you going to Blackwater Park?"

"You may give the letter to me," I said. "I am Miss Halcombe."

I read the letter quickly.

A man put his head out and said, "Yes, with a letter for Miss Halcombe."

Sincerely, William Kyrle.

I read this very thankfully and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came round the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab, and the Count took my arm to walk home with me.

He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. He must have read my letter, returned it to the post-bag, and now knew that I had received an answer. There was no point in trying to deceive him so I said nothing, and just tried to seem quite cool and calm.

Dear Miss Halcombe -- Your letter has caused me great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde's signature is needed so that a Loan of all or part of her ￡20,000 can be made to Sir Percival. This is almost certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first.

Back at the house we found that Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before, it seemed. When I told him Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled, "Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour."

"Good news, Miss Halcombe," he said. "The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I'm sure you are relieved."

He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about but, exhausted by worry and the heat of the day, my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.

I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, "May I have five minutes' talk with you, here on the grass?"

They walked off together and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly and the Count looked in.

I woke to find Laura's hand on my shoulder.

"Marian! The figure at the lake. I've just spoken to her! It's Anne Catherick. Look, she found my bracelet."

"Did she say anything about your husband?" I asked.

"She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid any more because she was so ill she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of."

Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. "Anne Catherick?"

"Yes! I was searching in the boat-house," Laura went on, "when a woman in a white dress came in and said quietly, "Miss Fairlie. I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it. "I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn't afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick and asked me if I remembered as a little girl walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw that we were like each other, but her face was pale and thin and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. "Why do you call me Miss Fairlie?" I asked, and she answered, "Because I love the name of Fairlie and hate the name of Glyde.""

We were silent for a time. Then Laura said anxiously, "Why hasn't Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?"

"She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. "We are not alone," she said, "someone is watching. Come here tomorrow at this time and I will tell you." Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared."

"Oh yes! I forgot to tell you," I said. "Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed."

"Yes? Go on!" I said eagerly. "What secret?"

"I heard Sir Percival's lawyer mention a second plan -- to give a document promising payment in three months."

"But why?" Laura said, amazed. "If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how can it be postponed?"

"Oh, Laura, Laura, another chance lost! But you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time."

"Oh, Marian!" she said. "That would be such a relief."

"Yes, it would. Let's hope that it's true."

That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must have been due to the Count's influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival's sudden journey yesterday had been to Welmingham, to question Mrs Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy, and I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring.

"Do you know," I asked, "whether Lady Glyde has come in?"

Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs Michelson, the housekeeper.

I was not wrong to be anxious. The next day Laura and I arranged that after lunch she would go alone to the boat-house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care that Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger.

Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat-house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside the boat-house, and softly calling Laura's name. But no one answered and no one appeared. Outside, I searched the ground for signs, and found the footprints of two people in the sand -- big footprints like a man's and small footprints, which I was sure were Laura's. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat-house.

"Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny."

"Move away," I said. "Don't you see that I want to go in?"

"But you mustn't go in," she answered. "I have my orders."

I ran upstairs to Laura's room. Her door was shut, and there was one of Sir Percival's house servants standing in front of it.

Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess.

My heart sank. Fanny was Laura's personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted.

"Yes, that is what you are to understand," he answered.

Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. But it was the Countess who spoke.

"Am I to understand that your wife's room is a prison?" I asked, staring him full in the face.

"Take care how you treat your wife!" I shouted furiously. "There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival," she said suddenly. "But I cannot remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated today!"

"We have made the worst-tempered man in England see reason," said the Count. "Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe, this insulting situation is now ended."

Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, "All right, have your own way." With these words he left the room.

I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura's room. She was alone inside and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me.

Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing, as I did, she would not have said this without the Count's permission.

"Marian!" she said thankfully. "How did you get here?"

"I agree with my wife," the Count said quietly.

"It was the Count's influence, of course," I said.

"That horrible man!" she cried. "He's a miserable spy!"

Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess, bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.

"Oh, Laura," I said when she had gone, "you shouldn't have called the Count a spy. We shall both regret it."

"No. While I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly! -- look, see how he's bruised it. What could I do, Marian? I was helpless! I told him everything."

"What happened to the note?" I said. "Have you got it?"

"But he is a spy, Marian! There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival, who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick. But she didn't come -- I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she'd been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn't caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival's secret."

"But he didn't believe me," Laura went on. "He said he knew she had told me more and that he would lock me up until I had confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a madman! What are we to do?"

I looked at the bruises on Laura's arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dared not speak.

"For Mr Fairlie," I said. "Your lazy, selfish uncle. I'll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge, without your husband."

"He is mad -- mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret," I said. "I must act now to protect you -- who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?" I thought hard for a few minutes. "I will write two letters and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can't trust the post-bag here any more. One for Mr Kyrle, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival's violent behaviour."

I left her then and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone and was staying the night in the little hotel in the village, before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off.

"And who is the other letter for?" asked Laura anxiously.

When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset at leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help.

From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything -- every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier, while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rustle of a silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind.

"Here are two letters," I said. "Post the one addressed to Mr Kyrle in London tomorrow, and deliver the other to Mr Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!"

Fanny put the letters down the front of her dress. "They'll stay there, miss," she said, "till I've done what you tell me."