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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sign of Silence, by William Le Queux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sign of Silence
+
+Author: William Le Queux
+
+Release Date: November 15, 2009 [EBook #30477]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SIGN OF SILENCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "'Well,' she asked, 'are you ready?'" (Chap. vi.)
+
+_The Sign of Silence_] [_Frontispiece_
+]
+
+
+
+
+THE SIGN
+
+OF SILENCE
+
+BY
+
+WILLIAM LE QUEUX
+
+_Author of_
+
+_"If Sinners Entice Thee," "The Room of Secrets," etc._
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
+
+LONDON, MELBOURNE AND TORONTO
+
+1917
+
+
+
+
+"THE MASTER OF MYSTERY"
+
+
+WILLIAM LE QUEUX'S NOVELS
+
+
+_WORLD'S OPINIONS._
+
+EUROPE.
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux retains his position as 'The Master of Mystery.'
+... He is far too skilful to allow pause for thought; he whirls his
+readers from incident to incident, holding their attention from the first
+page to the close of the book."--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+"There is no better companion on a railway journey than Mr. William Le
+Queux."--_Daily Mail._
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux is 'The Master of Mystery.' His reputation is
+world-famed."--_Le Matin_ (Paris).
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux's romances are always enthralling. He is the Master
+of the Mystery-story."--_Berliner Tageblatt_ (Berlin).
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux is the most entrancing and thrilling English
+novelist of to-day."--_Neue Freie Presse_ (Vienna).
+
+
+ASIA.
+
+"We always enjoy Mr. Le Queux's novels. His mysteries are
+perfect."--_Englishman_ (Calcutta).
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux has justly earned the title of 'The Master of
+Mystery.'"--_Hong Kong Telegraph._
+
+
+AFRICA.
+
+"As a weaver of mysteries, Mr. William Le Queux has surely no equal. To
+dash about Europe in his company, hot on the heels of an enigma, is a
+pastime both exciting and exhilarating."--_Johannesburg Star._
+
+
+AMERICA.
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux's popularity is steadily increasing. No writer has
+brought mystery and adventure to such a high degree of art. He never
+fails to enthral and entertain us."--_New York Herald._
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux's work is always excellent, and always
+exciting."--_San Francisco Examiner._
+
+"Not without good cause has Mr. Le Queux earned his very apt title, 'The
+Master of Mystery.'"--_El Diario_ (Buenos Ayres).
+
+
+AUSTRALIA.
+
+"Mr. Le Queux is always fresh and original, and one can rely on being
+interested and amused by his stories."--_Sydney Morning Herald._
+
+"For mystery and sensation Mr. Le Queux cannot be beaten."--_Melbourne
+Argus._
+
+"Mr. Le Queux's large public are never satisfied. They always crave for
+more from his pen."--_Christchurch Weekly Press_ (New Zealand).
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    CHAPTER                                    PAGE
+
+         I.--INTRODUCES A GENTLEMAN              7
+
+        II.--THE SCENT                          20
+
+       III.--DESCRIBES THE TRYSTING-PLACE       35
+
+        IV.--"DEAR OLD DIG"                     45
+
+         V.--"TIME WILL PROVE"                  54
+
+        VI.--THE PIECE OF CONVICTION            63
+
+       VII.--FATAL FINGERS                      71
+
+      VIII.--CONTAINS FURTHER EVIDENCE          80
+
+        IX.--DESCRIBES THE YELLOW SIGN          89
+
+         X.--CHERCHEZ LA FEMME                  97
+
+        XI.--IN WHICH AN ALLEGATION IS MADE    108
+
+       XII.--PHRIDA MAKES CONFESSION           117
+
+      XIII.--THE FUGITIVE'S SECRET             126
+
+       XIV.--REVEALS A FURTHER DECEPTION       136
+
+        XV.--AN EFFACED IDENTITY               144
+
+       XVI.--REVEALS ANOTHER ENIGMA            153
+
+      XVII.--CONCERNS MRS. PETRE               162
+
+     XVIII.--DISCLOSES THE TRAP                170
+
+       XIX.--THE SEAL OF SILENCE               179
+
+        XX.--FROM THE TOMB                     187
+
+       XXI.--RECORDS A STRANGE STATEMENT       195
+
+      XXII.--"MARIE BRACQ!"                    203
+
+     XXIII.--LOVE'S CONFESSION                 213
+
+      XXIV.--OFFICIAL SECRECY                  222
+
+       XXV.--FRÉMY, OF THE SURETÉ              231
+
+      XXVI.--SHOWS EXPERT METHODS              239
+
+     XXVII.--EDWARDS BECOMES MORE PUZZLED      248
+
+    XXVIII.--FURTHER ADMISSIONS                256
+
+      XXIX.--THE SELLER OF SHAWLS              265
+
+       XXX.--FACE TO FACE                      274
+
+      XXXI.--SHOWS THE TRUTH-TELLER            284
+
+     XXXII.--IS THE CONCLUSION                 294
+
+
+
+
+THE SIGN OF SILENCE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+INTRODUCES A GENTLEMAN.
+
+
+"Then it's an entire mystery?"
+
+"Yes, Phrida."
+
+"But it's astounding! It really seems so utterly impossible," declared my
+well-beloved, amazed at what I had just related.
+
+"I've simply stated hard facts."
+
+"But there's been nothing about this affair in the papers."
+
+"For certain reasons the authorities are not exactly anxious for any
+publicity. It is a very puzzling problem, and they do not care to own
+themselves baffled," I replied.
+
+"Really, it's the most extraordinary story of London life that I've ever
+heard," Phrida Shand declared, leaning forward in her chair, clasping her
+small white hands as, with her elbows upon the _table-à-deux_, she looked
+at me with her wondrous dark eyes across the bowl of red tulips between
+us.
+
+We were lunching together at the Berkeley, in Piccadilly, one January day
+last year, and had just arrived at the dessert.
+
+"The whole thing is quite bewildering, Teddy--an utter enigma," she
+exclaimed in a low, rather strained voice, her pretty, pointed chin
+resting upon the back of her hand as she gazed upon me from beneath those
+long, curved lashes.
+
+"I quite agree," was my answer. "The police are mystified, and so am I.
+Sir Digby Kemsley is my friend, you know."
+
+"I remember," she said. "You once introduced me--at the opening of the
+Motor Show at Olympia, I believe. A very brilliant and famous man, isn't
+he?"
+
+"Rather! A famous engineer. He made the new railway across the Andes, and
+possesses huge rubber interests in Peru. His name, both in Seina and
+Valparaiso, is one to conjure with," was my reply; "but----"
+
+"But what?" queried my well-beloved.
+
+"Well, there's one fact which greatly increases the mystery--a fact which
+is yet to be told."
+
+"What's that?" she asked eagerly.
+
+I hesitated.
+
+"Well, I've been making inquiries this morning," I replied with some
+reluctance, "and I learn to my blank amazement that there is no such
+person as my friend."
+
+"No such person!" she echoed, staring at me, her lips parted. Being
+seated in a corner, no one could overhear our conversation. "I don't
+follow you!"
+
+"Well, Sir Digby died somewhere in South America about a year ago," was
+my quiet response.
+
+"What? Was your friend a fraud, eh?"
+
+"Apparently so. And yet, if he was, he must have been a man of marvellous
+cunning and subterfuge," I said. "He was most popular at the club, known
+at the Ritz and the Savoy, and other places about town."
+
+"He struck me as a man of great refinement--a gentleman, in fact," Phrida
+said. "I recollect him perfectly: tall, rather thin, with a pointed, grey
+beard, a long, oval face, and thinnish, grey hair. A very lithe, erect
+man, whose polite, elegant manner was that of a diplomat, and in whose
+dark eyes was an expression of constant merriment and good humour. He
+spoke with a slight accent--Scotch, isn't it?"
+
+"Exactly. You remember him perfectly, dear. A most excellent
+description," I said; "and that same description has been circulated this
+morning to every police office throughout the United Kingdom, as well as
+to the prefectures of police in all the European capitals. All the ports
+are being watched, as it is expected he may make his way abroad."
+
+"But what do the authorities suspect?" asked Phrida, with a serious look.
+
+"Ah, that's just it! They haven't yet decided what to suspect."
+
+I looked across at her and thought, though slightly more pale than usual,
+she had never appeared more charming.
+
+Sweet-faced, slim, with a soft, sibilant voice, and dainty to her
+finger-tips, she did not look more than nineteen, though her age was
+twenty-four. How shall I describe her save to say that her oval,
+well-defined features were perfect, her dark, arched brows gave piquancy
+to a countenance that was remarked wherever she went, a merry face, with
+a touch of impudence in her smile--the face of an essentially London
+girl.
+
+Only daughter of my father's late partner, James Shand, we had been
+friends from childhood, and our friendship had, three years ago,
+blossomed into a deep and mutual affection. Born and bred in Kensington,
+she cared little for country life. She loved her London, its throbbing
+streets, its life and movement, its concerts, its bright restaurants,
+and, most of all, its theatres--for she was an ardent playgoer.
+
+My father, Edward Royle, was head of the firm of well-known chemical
+manufacturers, Messrs. Royle and Shand, whose works were a feature of the
+river landscape close to Greenwich, and whose offices were in St. Mary
+Axe. He had died two years before, pre-deceasing his partner by a year.
+The business--a big one, for we were the largest chemical manufacturers
+in England--had been left solely in my hands. Shand's widow still lived
+with Phrida in Cromwell Road, drawing from it an income of seven thousand
+pounds yearly.
+
+As for myself, I was a bachelor, aged thirty-two, and if golf be a vice I
+was greatly addicted to it. I occupied a cosy set of chambers, half-way
+up Albemarle Street, and am thankful to say that in consequence of my
+father's business acumen, my balance at my bankers was increasing
+annually. At the works at Greenwich nearly two thousand hands were
+employed, and it had always been the firm's proud boast that they
+laboured under the most healthy conditions possible to secure in the
+manufacture of chemicals.
+
+My father, upon his deathbed, had held my hand and expressed to me his
+profoundest satisfaction at my engagement with the daughter of his
+partner, and almost with his last breath had pronounced a blessing upon
+our union.
+
+Yes, I loved Phrida--loved her with all my heart and all my soul. She was
+mine--mine for ever.
+
+Yet, as I sat at that little table in the white-enamelled restaurant
+gazing at her across the bowl of tulips, I felt a strange, a very curious
+misgiving, an extraordinary misty suspicion, for which I could not in the
+least account.
+
+I experienced a strange intuition of doubt and vague uncertainty.
+
+The facts we had just been discussing were, to say the least, amazing.
+
+Only the Metropolitan Police and myself were aware of the astounding
+discovery which had been made that morning--a discovery of which the
+ever-vigilant London evening newspapers had as yet no inkling.
+
+The affair was being carefully hushed up. In certain quarters--high
+official quarters, I believe--a flutter of excitement had been caused at
+noon, when it had become known that a mystery had occurred, one which at
+the outset New Scotland Yard had acknowledged itself utterly without a
+clue.
+
+About the affair there was nothing usual, nothing commonplace. The murder
+mysteries of London always form exciting reading, for it is surely the
+easiest work of the practised journalist to put forward from day to day
+fresh clues and exciting propositions.
+
+The present case, however, was an entirely fresh and unheard-of mystery,
+one such as London had never before known.
+
+In the whole annals of Scotland Yard no case presenting such unusual
+features had previously been reported.
+
+"Have you no theory as to what really occurred?" Phrida asked slowly,
+after a very long and pensive silence.
+
+"None whatever, dear," I replied.
+
+What theory could I form? Aye, what indeed?
+
+In order that the exact truth should be made entirely plain to the reader
+and the mystery viewed in all its phases, it will be best for me to
+briefly record the main facts prior to entering upon any detail.
+
+The following were the circumstances exactly as I knew them.
+
+At twenty-five minutes to ten on the previous night--the night of January
+the sixth--I was at home in Albemarle Street, writing letters. Haines, my
+man, had gone out, and I was alone, when the telephone bell rang. Taking
+up the receiver I heard the cheery voice of Sir Digby Kemsley asking what
+I was doing. My prompt reply was that I was staying at home that night,
+whereupon his voice changed and he asked me in great earnestness to come
+over to his flat in Harrington Gardens, South Kensington, at eleven
+o'clock.
+
+"And look here," he added in a confidential tone, "the outside door will
+be closed at half-past ten and the porter off duty. I'll go down just
+before eleven and leave the door ajar. Don't let anyone see you come in.
+Be extremely careful. I have reasons I'll explain afterwards."
+
+"Right," I replied, and shut off.
+
+His request seemed just a little curious. It struck me that he perhaps
+wished to consult with me over some private matter, as he had done once
+before. Therefore, just before eleven I hailed a taxi in Piccadilly and
+drove westward past Gloucester Road Station, and into the quiet,
+eminently select neighbourhood where my friend lived.
+
+At eleven o'clock Harrington Gardens--that long thoroughfare of big
+rather gloomy houses, most of them residences of City merchants, or town
+houses or flats of people who have seats in the country--was as silent as
+the grave, and my taxi awoke its echoes until, about half way up, I
+stopped the man, alighted, and paid him off.
+
+Then, after walking a couple of hundred yards, I found the door ajar and
+slipped into the hall unobserved.
+
+Ascending the wide carpeted steps to the second floor, the door of the
+flat was opened noiselessly by the owner himself, and a few seconds later
+I found myself seated before a big fire in his snug sitting-room.
+
+My friend's face was grey and entirely changed, yet his manner was still
+as polished, cheery, and buoyant as ever.
+
+The flat--quite a small one, though very expensive as he had once
+remarked to me--was furnished throughout with elegance and taste. Upon
+its walls everywhere hung curios and savage arms, which he had brought
+from various parts of the world. The drawing-room was furnished entirely
+in Arab style, with cedar-wood screens, semi-circular arches, low, soft
+divans and silken rugs, which he had bought in Egypt, while, in contrast,
+the little den in which we were sitting at that moment was panelled in
+white with an old-rose carpet, rendering it essentially bright and
+modern.
+
+The tall, grey-bearded, elegant man handed me a box of Perfectos Finos,
+from which we selected, and then, throwing myself into a chair, I slowly
+lit up.
+
+His back was turned from me at the moment, as he leaned over the
+writing-table apparently gathering up some papers which he did not desire
+that I should see. He was facing a circular mirror on the wall, and in it
+I could see his countenance reflected. The expression upon his
+face--cold, cynical, sinister--startled me. He placed the papers in a
+drawer and locked it with a key upon his chain.
+
+"Well?" I asked. "Why all this confounded mystery, Digby?"
+
+He turned upon me quickly, his long face usually so full of merriment,
+grey and drawn. I saw instantly that something very serious was amiss.
+
+"I--I want to ask your advice, Royle," he replied in a hard voice scarce
+above a whisper. Walking to the pretty rug of old-rose and pale green
+silk spread before the fire he stood upon it, facing me. "And--well,
+truth to tell, I don't want it to be known that you've been here
+to-night, old fellow."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"For certain private reasons--very strong reasons."
+
+"As you wish, my dear chap," was my response, as I drew at his perfect
+cigar.
+
+Then he looked me straight in the face and said: "My motive in asking you
+here to-night, Royle, is to beg of you to extend your valued friendship
+to me at a moment which is the greatest crisis of my career. The fact is,
+I've played the game of life falsely, and the truth must out,
+unless--unless you will consent to save me."
+
+"I don't follow you," I said, staring at him. "What in heaven's name do
+you mean?"
+
+"My dear boy, I'll put my cards down on the table at once," he said in a
+slow, deep tone. "Let's see--we've known each other for nearly a year.
+You have been my best friend, entirely devoted to my interests--a staunch
+friend, better than whom no man could ever desire. In return I've lied to
+you, led you to believe that I am what I am not. Why? Because--well, I
+suppose I'm no different to any other man--or woman for the matter of
+that--I have a skeleton in my cupboard--a grim skeleton, my dear Royle.
+One which I've always striven to hide--until to-night," he added with
+emotion.
+
+"But that hardly interferes with our friendship, does it? We all of us
+have our private affairs, both of business and of heart," I said.
+
+"The heart," he echoed bitterly. "Ah! yes--the heart. You, my dear boy,
+are a man of the world. You understand life. You are never
+narrow-minded--eh?" he asked, advancing a step nearer to me.
+
+"I hope not," I said. "At any rate, I've always been your friend, ever
+since our first meeting on the steamer on the Lake of Garda, last
+February."
+
+The eminent engineer rolled his cigar between his fingers, and calmly
+contemplated it in silence.
+
+Then, quite abruptly, he exclaimed:
+
+"Royle, my present misfortune is due to a woman."
+
+"Ah!" I sighed. "A woman! Always a woman in such cases! Well?"
+
+"Mind you, I don't blame her in the least," he went on quickly, "I--I was
+hot-tempered, and I miscalculated her power. We quarrelled, and--and she,
+though so young, refined and pretty, has arisen to crush me."
+
+"Anyone I know?"
+
+"No. I think not," was his slow reply, his dark eyes gazing full into
+mine as he still stood astride upon the hearthrug.
+
+Then he fidgeted uneasily, stroked his well-clipped grey beard with his
+strong, bronzed hand, and strode across the room and back again.
+
+"Look here, Royle," he exclaimed at last. "You're my friend, so I may as
+well speak straight out. Will you help me?"
+
+"Certainly--if I can."
+
+"I'm in a hole--a confounded hole. I've been worried ever since I got
+back from Egypt just before Christmas. Only you can save me."
+
+"Me! Why?"
+
+"I want you to remain my friend; to still believe in me, when--well--when
+I've gone under," he answered brokenly, his brows contracting as he
+spoke.
+
+"I don't understand you."
+
+"Then I'll speak more plainly. To-night is the last time we shall meet.
+I've played the game, I tell you--and I've lost!"
+
+"You seem horribly hipped about something to-night, my dear fellow!" I
+exclaimed in wonder at his strange words. In all my circle of friends no
+man was more level-headed than Sir Digby Kemsley.
+
+"Yes, I'm not quite myself. Perhaps you wouldn't be, Royle, in the same
+circumstances." Halting, he stood erect with his hands clasped behind his
+back. Even then, at that moment of despair, he presented the fine figure
+of a man in his well-cut dinner clothes and the single ruby in his piqué
+shirt-front. "I want to entrust a secret to you--a great secret," he went
+on a few seconds later. "I tell you that to-night is the last occasion
+we shall ever meet, but I beg--may I implore you to judge me with
+leniency, to form no unjust conclusions, and when you remember me to
+regard my memory as that of a man who was not a rogue, but a victim of
+untoward circumstances."
+
+"Really, my dear fellow," I said, "you speak in enigmas. What do you
+mean--you intend what?"
+
+"That matters nothing to you, Royle," was his hoarse reply. "I merely ask
+for your continued friendship. I ask that you will treat my successor
+here in the exact manner in which you have treated me--that you will
+become his firm friend--and that you will perform for me one great and
+most important service."
+
+"Your successor! Who will succeed you? You have no son!"
+
+"No, I have no male relation whatever," he replied. "But we were speaking
+of the favour I am begging of you to perform for me. On the fourteenth of
+January I shall not be here, but it is highly necessary that on that
+evening, at eight o'clock, a secret message should be delivered into the
+hands of a certain lady--a message from myself. Will you do it?"
+
+"Certainly. Are you going abroad again?"
+
+"I--well, I can hardly tell. I may be dead by then--who knows?" And he
+smiled grimly.
+
+He returned to his writing-table, unlocked a drawer, and took therefrom a
+letter which was carefully sealed with black wax.
+
+"Now, listen," he said, holding the letter in his fingers; "on the night
+of the fourteenth, just at eight o'clock precisely, go to the Piccadilly
+tube station, stand at the telephone box numbered four on the Haymarket
+side, when a lady in black will approach you and ask news of me. In
+response you will give her this note. But there is a further condition:
+you may be watched and recognised, therefore be extremely careful that
+you are not followed on that day, and, above all, adopt some effective
+disguise. Go there dressed as a working-man, I would suggest."
+
+"That request, Kemsley, is certainly a very queer one," I remarked. "Is
+she _the_ lady?"
+
+He smiled, and I took that as an affirmative.
+
+"You say she'll be dressed in black. Lots of ladies dress in black. I
+might mistake her."
+
+"Not very likely. I forgot to tell you that she will wear a small spray
+of mimosa."
+
+"Ah, that shows originality," I remarked. "Mimosa is not often worn on
+the person."
+
+"It will serve as a distinguishing mark." Then, after a pause, he added,
+handing me the letter: "There is one further request I want to make--or,
+at least, I want you to give me your promise, Royle. I ask you to make a
+solemn vow to me that if any suspicion arises within your mind, that you
+will believe nothing without absolute and decisive proof. I mean that you
+will not misjudge her."
+
+"I certainly will not."
+
+"Your hand upon it?"
+
+I put forth my hand and, gripping his warmly, gave him my word of honour.
+
+"I hope you will never regret this, Royle," he said in an earnest tone.
+
+"We are friends," I remarked simply.
+
+"And I trust, Royle, you will never regret the responsibility which you
+have accepted on my behalf," he said in a deep, hard voice--the voice of
+a desperate man. "Remember to treat my successor exactly as you have
+treated me. Be his best friend, as he will be yours. You will be
+astonished, amazed, mystified, no doubt, at the events which must, alas!
+inevitably occur. But it is not my fault, Royle, believe me," he declared
+with solemn emphasis. "It is, alas! my misfortune!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE SCENT.
+
+
+After giving me the letter, and receiving my assurance that it would be
+safely delivered, Sir Digby's spirits seemed somewhat to revive.
+
+He chatted in his old, good-humoured style, drank a whisky and soda, and,
+just before one o'clock, let me out, urging me to descend the stairs
+noiselessly lest the hall-porter should know that he had had a visitor.
+
+Time after time I had questioned him regarding his strange reference to
+his successor, but to all my queries he was entirely dumb. He had, I
+recollected, never been the same since his return from a flying visit to
+Egypt.
+
+"The future will, no doubt, astound you, but I know, Royle, that you are
+a man of honour and of your word, and that you will keep your promise at
+all hazards," was all he would reply.
+
+The secrecy with which I had entered and left caused me considerable
+curiosity. Kemsley was one of those free, bluff, open-hearted,
+open-handed, men. He was never secretive, never elusive. I could only
+account for his curious, mystifying actions by the fact that the
+reputation of a woman was at stake--that he was acting for her
+protection.
+
+And I was to meet that woman face to face in eight days' time!
+
+As I walked towards Gloucester Road Station--where I hoped to find a
+taxi--all was silence. At that hour the streets of South Kensington are
+as deserted as a graveyard, and as I bent towards the cutting wind from
+the east, I wondered who could be the mysterious woman who had broken up
+my dear friend's future plans. Yet he bore her no malice. Some men's
+temperaments are really curious.
+
+Beneath a street-lamp I paused and looked at the superscription upon the
+envelope. It ran:
+
+    "For E. P. K."
+
+The initial K! Was the lady Digby's wife? That was the suspicion which at
+once fell upon me, and by which I became convinced.
+
+At half-past one o'clock I let myself into my own flat in Albemarle
+Street. The faithful Haines, who had been a marine wardroom servant in
+the navy before entering my employ, was awaiting me.
+
+"The telephone bell rang ten minutes ago, sir," he said. "Sir Digby
+Kemsley wishes to speak to you."
+
+"Very well!" I replied. "You can go to bed."
+
+The man placed my tray with whisky and soda upon the little table near my
+chair, as was his habit, and, wishing me good-night, retired.
+
+I went to the telephone, and asked for Digby's number.
+
+After a few seconds a voice, which at first I failed to recognise,
+replied to mine:
+
+"I say, Royle; I'm so sorry to disturb you, old chap, but could you
+possibly come back here at once?"
+
+"What?" I asked, very surprised. "Is it so very important? Can't it wait
+till to-morrow?"
+
+"No, unfortunately it can't. It's most imperative that I should see you.
+Something has happened. Do come!" he begged. "But don't attract
+attention--you understand!"
+
+"Something happened!" I echoed. "What?"
+
+"That woman. Come at once--do, there's a good fellow. Will you--for my
+sake and hers?"
+
+The mention of the woman decided me, so I replied "All right!" and hung
+up the receiver.
+
+Within half an hour I alighted in Courtfield Gardens and walked up
+Harrington Gardens to the door of my friend's house, which I saw was
+already ajar in anticipation of my arrival.
+
+Closing the door noiselessly, in order not to attract the attention of
+the alert porter who lived in the basement, I crept up the carpeted
+stairs to the door of the flat, which I found also ajar.
+
+Having closed the door, I slipped into the hall and made my way to the
+warm, cosy room I had left earlier that night.
+
+The door was closed, and without ceremony I turned the handle.
+
+I threw it open laughingly in order to surprise my friend, but next
+instant halted in amazement upon the threshold.
+
+I stood there breathless, staring in speechless wonder, and drawing back.
+
+"I'm really very sorry!" I exclaimed. "I thought Sir Digby was here!"
+
+The man who had risen from his chair and bowed when I opened the door was
+about the same build, but, apparently, a trifle younger. He had iron-grey
+hair and a pointed beard, but his face was more triangular, with higher
+cheek-bones, and eyes more brilliant and deeper set.
+
+His thin countenance relaxed into a pleasant smile as he replied in a
+calm, suave voice:
+
+"I am Sir Digby Kemsley, and you--I believe--are Mr. Edward Royle--my
+friend--my very intimate friend--are you not?"
+
+"You!" I gasped, staring at him.
+
+And then, for several seconds I failed to articulate any further words.
+The imposture was so utterly barefaced.
+
+"You are not Sir Digby Kemsley," I went on angrily at last. "What trick
+is this?"
+
+"No trick whatever, my dear Royle," was the man's quiet reply as he stood
+upon the hearthrug in the same position in which my friend had stood an
+hour before. "I tell you that my name is Kemsley--Sir Digby Kemsley."
+
+"Then you assert that this flat is yours?"
+
+"Most certainly I do."
+
+"Bosh! How can you expect me to believe such a transparent tale?" I cried
+impatiently. "Where is my friend?"
+
+"I am your friend, my dear Royle!" he laughed.
+
+"You're not."
+
+"But did you not, only an hour ago, promise him to treat his successor in
+the same manner in which you had treated himself?" the man asked very
+slowly, his high, deep-set eyes fixed upon me with a crafty, almost
+snake-like expression, an expression that was distinctly one of evil.
+
+"True, I did," was my quick reply. "But I never bargained for this
+attempted imposture."
+
+"I tell you it is no imposture!" declared the man before me. "You will,
+perhaps, understand later. Have a cigar," and he took up Digby's box and
+handed it to me.
+
+I declined very abruptly, and without much politeness, I fear.
+
+I was surveying the man who, with such astounding impudence, was
+attempting to impose upon me a false identity. There was something
+curiously striking in his appearance, but what it was I could not exactly
+determine. His speech was soft and educated, in a slightly higher pitch
+than my friend's; his hands white and carefully manicured, yet, as he
+stood, I noted that his left shoulder was slightly higher than the other,
+that his dress clothes ill-fitted him in consequence; that in his
+shirt-front were two rare, orange-coloured gems such as I had never seen
+before, and, further, that when I caught him side face, it much resembled
+Digby's, so aquiline as to present an almost birdlike appearance.
+
+"Look here!" I exclaimed in anger a few moments later. "Why have you
+called me over here? When you spoke to me your voice struck me as
+peculiar, but I put it down to the distortion of sound on the telephone."
+
+"I wanted to see if you recognised my other self," he answered with a
+smile.
+
+"At this late hour? Couldn't you have postponed your ghastly joke till
+the morning?" I asked.
+
+"Joke!" he echoed, his face suddenly pale and serious. "This is no joke,
+Royle, but a very serious matter. The most serious that can occur in any
+man's life."
+
+"Well, what is it? Tell me the truth."
+
+"You shall know that later."
+
+"Where is Sir Digby?"
+
+"Here! I am Sir Digby, I tell you."
+
+"I mean my friend."
+
+"I am your friend," was the man's response, as he turned away towards the
+writing-table. "The friend you first met on the Lake of Garda."
+
+"Now, why all this secrecy?" I asked. "I was first called here and warned
+not to show myself, and, on arrival, find you here."
+
+"And who else did you expect to find?" he asked with a faint smile.
+
+"I expected to find my friend."
+
+"But I am your friend," he asserted. "You promised me only an hour ago
+that you would treat my successor exactly as you treated me. And," he
+added, "I am my own successor!"
+
+I stood much puzzled.
+
+There were certain features in his countenance that were much like
+Digby's, and certain tones in his voice that were the same. His hands
+seemed the same, too, and yet he was not Digby himself.
+
+"How can I believe you if you refuse to be frank and open with me?" I
+asked.
+
+"You promised me, Royle, and a good deal depends upon your promise," he
+replied, looking me squarely in the face. "Perhaps even your own
+future."
+
+"My future!" I echoed. "What has that to do with you, pray?" I demanded
+angrily.
+
+"More than you imagine," was his low response, his eyes fixed upon mine.
+
+"Well, all I know is that you are endeavouring to make me believe that
+you are what you are not. Some evil purpose is, no doubt, behind it all.
+But such an endeavour is an insult to my intelligence," I declared.
+
+The man laughed a low, harsh laugh and turned away.
+
+"I demand to know where my friend is!" I cried, stepping after him across
+the room, and facing him again.
+
+"My dear Royle," he replied, in that curious, high-pitched voice, yet
+with a calm, irritating demeanour. "Haven't I already told you I am your
+friend?"
+
+"It's a lie! You are not Sir Digby!" I cried angrily. "I shall inform the
+police that I've found you usurping his place and name, and leave them to
+solve the mystery."
+
+"Act just as you think fit, my dear old fellow," he laughed. "Perhaps the
+police might discover more than you yourself would care for them to
+know."
+
+His words caused me to ponder. At what could he be hinting?
+
+He saw my hesitancy, and with a sudden movement placed his face close to
+me, saying:
+
+"My dear fellow look--look into my countenance, you surely can penetrate
+my disguise. It cannot be so very perfect, surely."
+
+I looked, but turned from him in disgust.
+
+"No. Stop this infernal fooling!" I cried. "I've never seen you before in
+my life."
+
+He burst out laughing--laughed heartily, and with genuine amusement.
+
+His attitude held me in surprise.
+
+"You refuse to be my friend, Royle--but I desire to be yours, if you will
+allow me," he said.
+
+"I can have no friend whom I cannot trust," I repeated.
+
+"Naturally. But I hope you will soon learn to trust me," was his quiet
+retort. "I called you back to-night in order to see if you--my most
+intimate friend--would recognise me. But you do not. I am, therefore,
+safe--safe to go forth and perform a certain mission which it is
+imperative that I should perform."
+
+"You are fooling me," I declared.
+
+For a second he looked straight and unflinchingly into my eyes, then with
+a sudden movement he drew the left cuff of his dress shirt up to the
+elbow and held out his forearm for me to gaze upon.
+
+I looked.
+
+Then I stood dumbfounded, for half-way up the forearm, on the inside, was
+the cicatrice of an old knife wound which long ago, he had told me, had
+been made by an Indian in South America who had attempted to kill him,
+and whom he had shot in self-defence.
+
+"You believe me now?" he asked, in a voice scarce above a whisper.
+
+"Of course," I said. "Pardon me, Digby--but this change in your
+personality is marvellous--almost superhuman!"
+
+"So I've been told before," he replied lightly.
+
+"But, really, didn't you penetrate it?" he asked, resuming his normal
+voice.
+
+"No. I certainly did not," I answered, and helping myself to a drink,
+swallowed it.
+
+"Well?" I went on. "What does this mean?"
+
+"At present I can't exactly tell you what I intend doing," he replied.
+"To-night I wanted to test you, and have done so. It's late now," he
+added, glancing at the clock, which showed it to be half-past two o'clock
+in the morning. "Come in to-morrow at ten, will you?" he asked. "I want
+to discuss the future with you very seriously. I have something to say
+which concerns your own future, and which also closely concerns a friend
+of yours. So come in your own interests, Royle--now don't fail, I beg of
+you!"
+
+"But can't you tell me to-night," I asked.
+
+"Not until I know something of what my own movements are to be," he
+replied. "I cannot know before to-morrow," he replied with a mysterious
+air. "So if you wish to be forewarned of an impending peril, come and see
+me and I will then explain. We shall, no doubt, be on closer terms
+to-morrow. _Au revoir_," and he took my hand warmly and then let me out.
+
+The rather narrow, ill-lit staircase, the outer door of which had been
+shut for hours, was close and stuffy, but as I descended the second
+flight and was about to pass along the hall to the door, I distinctly
+heard a movement in the shadow where, on my left, the hall continued
+along to the door of the ground-floor flat.
+
+I peered over the banisters, but in the darkness could distinguish
+nothing.
+
+That somebody was lurking there I instantly felt assured, and next
+moment the truth became revealed by two facts.
+
+The first was a light, almost imperceptible noise, the jingle of a
+woman's bangles, and, secondly, the faint odour of some subtle perfume, a
+sweet, intoxicating scent such as my nostrils had never greeted before.
+
+For the moment I felt surprise, but as the hidden lady was apparently
+standing outside the ground-floor flat--perhaps awaiting admittance--I
+felt it to be no concern of mine, and proceeding, opened the outer door
+and passed outside, closing it quietly after me.
+
+An unusually sweet perfume one can seldom forget. Even out in the keen
+night air that delightful odour seemed to cling to my memory--the latest
+creation of the Rue de la Paix, I supposed.
+
+Well, I duly returned home to Albemarle Street once again, utterly
+mystified.
+
+What did it all mean? Why had Digby adopted such a marvellous disguise?
+What did he mean by saying that he wished to stand my friend and
+safeguard me from impending evil?
+
+Yes, it was all a mystery--but surely not so great a mystery as that
+which was to follow. Ah! had I but suspected the astounding truth how
+very differently would I have acted!
+
+Filled with curiosity regarding Digby's strange forebodings, I alighted
+from a taxi in Harrington Gardens at a quarter to eleven that same
+morning, but on entering found the uniformed hall-porter in a great state
+of excitement and alarm.
+
+"Oh, sir!" he cried breathlessly, advancing towards me. "You're a friend
+of Sir Digby's sir. The police are upstairs. Something extraordinary has
+happened."
+
+"The police!" I gasped. "Why, what's happened?"
+
+"Well, sir. As his man left the day before yesterday, my wife went up to
+Sir Digby's flat as usual this morning about eight, and put him his early
+cup of tea outside his door. But when she went in again she found he had
+not taken it into his room. She believed him to be asleep, so not till
+ten o'clock did she go into the sitting-room to draw up the blinds, when,
+to her horror, she found a young lady, a perfect stranger, lying
+stretched on the floor there! She rushed down and told me, and I went up.
+I found that Sir Digby's bed hadn't been slept in, and that though the
+poor girl was unconscious, she was still breathing. So I at once called
+in the constable on point duty at the corner of Collingham Road, and he
+'phoned to the police station."
+
+"But the girl--is she dead?" I inquired quickly.
+
+"I don't know, sir. You'd better go upstairs. There's an inspector, two
+plain-clothes men, and a doctor up there."
+
+He took me up in the lift, and a few moments later I stood beside Digby's
+bed, whereon the men had laid the inanimate form of a well-dressed girl
+whom I judged to be about twenty-two, whose dark hair, unbound, lay in
+disorder upon the pillow. The face, white as marble, was handsome and
+clean cut, but upon it, alas! was the ashen hue of death, the pale lips
+slightly parted as though in a half-sarcastic smile.
+
+The doctor was bending over her making his examination.
+
+I looked upon her for a moment, but it was a countenance which I had
+never seen before. Digby had many lady friends, but I had never seen her
+among them. She was a perfect stranger.
+
+Her gown was of dark blue serge, smartly made, and beneath her coat she
+wore a cream silk blouse with deep sailor collar open at the neck, and a
+soft flowing bow of turquoise blue. This, however, had been disarranged
+by the doctor in opening her blouse to listen to her breathing, and I saw
+that upon it was a small crimson stain.
+
+Yes, she was remarkably good-looking, without a doubt.
+
+When I announced myself as an intimate friend of Sir Digby Kemsley, the
+inspector at once took me into the adjoining room and began to eagerly
+question me.
+
+With him I was perfectly frank; but I said nothing regarding my second
+visit there in the night.
+
+My gravest concern was the whereabouts of my friend.
+
+"This is a very curious case, Mr. Royle," declared the inspector. "The
+C.I.D. men have established one fact--that another woman was with the
+stranger here in the early hours of this morning. This hair-comb"--and he
+showed me a small side-comb of dark green horn--"was found close beside
+her on the floor. Also a couple of hair-pins, which are different to
+those in the dead woman's hair. There was a struggle, no doubt, and the
+woman got away. In the poor girl's hair are two tortoiseshell
+side-combs."
+
+"But what is her injury?" I asked breathlessly.
+
+"She's been stabbed," he replied. "Let's go back."
+
+Together we re-entered the room, but as we did so we saw that the doctor
+had now left the bedside, and was speaking earnestly with the two
+detectives.
+
+"Well, doctor?" asked the inspector in a low voice.
+
+"She's quite dead--murder, without a doubt," was his reply. "The girl was
+struck beneath the left breast--a small punctured wound, but fatal!"
+
+"The woman who left this hair-comb behind knows something about the
+affair evidently," exclaimed the inspector. "We must first discover Sir
+Digby Kemsley. He seems to have been here up until eleven o'clock last
+night. Then he mysteriously disappeared, and the stranger entered unseen,
+two very curious and suspicious circumstances. I wonder who the poor girl
+was?"
+
+The two detectives were discussing the affair in low voices. Here was a
+complete and very remarkable mystery, which, from the first, the police
+told me they intended to keep to themselves, and not allow a syllable of
+it to leak out to the public through the newspapers.
+
+A woman had been there!
+
+Did there not exist vividly in my recollection that strange encounter in
+the darkness of the stairs? The jingle of the golden bangles, and the
+sweet odour of that delicious perfume?
+
+But I said nothing. I intended that the police should prosecute their
+inquiries, find my friend, and establish the identity of the mysterious
+girl who had met with such an untimely end presumably at the hands of
+that woman who had been lurking in the darkness awaiting my departure.
+
+Truly it was a mystery, a most remarkable problem among the many which
+occur each week amid the amazing labyrinth of humanity which we term
+London life.
+
+Sir Digby Kemsley had disappeared. Where?
+
+Half an hour after noon I had left Harrington Gardens utterly bewildered,
+and returned to Albemarle Street, and at half-past one met Phrida at the
+Berkeley, where, as I have already described, we lunched together.
+
+I had revealed to her everything under seal of the secrecy placed upon me
+by the police--everything save that suspicion I had had in the darkness,
+and the suspicion the police also held--the suspicion of a woman.
+
+Relation of the curious affair seemed to have unnerved her. She had
+become paler and was fidgeting with her serviette. Loving me so
+devotedly, she seemed to entertain vague and ridiculous fears regarding
+my own personal safety.
+
+"It was very foolish and hazardous of you to have returned there at that
+hour, dear," she declared with sweet solicitation, as she drew on her
+white gloves preparatory to leaving the restaurant, for I had already
+paid the bill and drained my liqueur-glass.
+
+"I don't see why," I said. "Whatever could have happened to me, when----"
+
+My sentence remained unfinished.
+
+I held my breath. The colour must have left my cheeks, I know.
+
+My well-beloved had at that moment opened her handbag and taken out her
+wisp of lace handkerchief.
+
+My nostrils were instantly filled with that same sweet, subtle perfume
+which I so vividly recollected, the identical perfume of the woman
+concealed in that dark passage-way!
+
+Her bangles, two thin gold ones, jingled as she moved--that same sound
+which had come up to me from the blackness. I sat like a statue, staring
+at her amazed, aghast, like a man in a dream.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+DESCRIBES THE TRYSTING-PLACE.
+
+
+I drove Phrida back to Cromwell Road in a taxi.
+
+As I sat beside her, that sweet irritating perfume filled my senses,
+almost intoxicating me. For some time I remained silent; then, unable to
+longer restrain my curiosity, I exclaimed with a calm, irresponsible air,
+though with great difficulty of self-restraint:
+
+"What awfully nice perfume you have, dearest! Surely it's new, isn't it?
+I never remember smelling it before!"
+
+"Quite new, and rather delicious, don't you think? My cousin Arthur
+brought it from Paris a few days ago. I only opened the bottle last
+night. Mother declared it to be the sweetest she's ever smelt. It's so
+very strong that one single drop is sufficient."
+
+"What do they call it?"
+
+"Parfait d'Amour. Lauzan, in the Placé Vendôme, makes it. It's quite new,
+and not yet on the market, Arthur said. He got it--a sample bottle--from
+a friend of his in the perfume trade."
+
+Not on the market! Those words of hers condemned her. Little did she
+dream that I had smelt that same sweet, subtle odour as I descended the
+stairs from Sir Digby's flat. She, no doubt, had recognised my silhouette
+in the half darkness, yet nevertheless she felt herself quite safe,
+knowing that I had not seen her.
+
+Why had she been lurking there?
+
+A black cloud of suspicion fell upon me. She kept up a desultory
+conversation as we went along Piccadilly in the dreary gloom of that dull
+January afternoon, but I only replied in monosyllables, until at length
+she remarked:
+
+"Really, Teddy, you're not thinking of a word I'm saying. I suppose your
+mind is centred upon your friend--the man who has turned out to be an
+impostor."
+
+The conclusion of that sentence and its tone showed a distinct
+antagonism.
+
+It was true that the man whom I had known as Sir Digby Kemsley--the man
+who for years past had been so popular among a really good set in
+London--was according to the police an impostor.
+
+The detective-inspector had told me so. From the flat in Harrington
+Gardens the men of the Criminal Investigation Department had rung up New
+Scotland Yard to make their report, and about noon, while I was resting
+at home in Albemarle Street, I was told over the telephone that my whilom
+friend was not the man I had believed him to be.
+
+As I had listened to the inspector's voice, I heard him say:
+
+"There's another complication of this affair, Mr. Royle. Your friend
+could not have been Sir Digby Kemsley, for that gentleman died suddenly a
+year ago, at Huacho, in Peru. There was some mystery about his death, it
+seems, for it was reported by the British Consul at Lima. Inspector
+Edwards, of the C.I. Department, will call upon you this afternoon. What
+time could you conveniently be at home?"
+
+I named five o'clock, and that appointment I intended, at all hazards, to
+keep.
+
+The big, heavily-furnished drawing-room in Cromwell Road was dark and
+sombre as I stood with Phrida, who, bright and happy, pulled off her
+gloves and declared to her mother--that charming, sedate, grey-haired,
+but wonderfully preserved, woman--that she had had such "a jolly lunch."
+
+"I saw the Redmaynes there, mother," she was saying. "Mr. Redmayne has
+asked us to lunch with them at the Carlton next Tuesday. Can we go?"
+
+"I think so, dear," was her mother's reply. "I'll look at my
+engagements."
+
+"Oh, do let's go! Ida is coming home from her trip to the West Indies. I
+do want to see her so much."
+
+Strange it was that my well-beloved, in face of that amazing mystery,
+preserved such an extraordinary, nay, an astounding, calm. I was thinking
+of the little side-comb of green horn, for I had seen her wearing a pair
+exactly similar!
+
+Standing by I watched her pale sweet countenance, full of speechless
+wonder.
+
+After the first moment of suspense she had found herself treading firm
+ground, and now, feeling herself perfectly secure, she had assumed a
+perfectly frank and confident attitude.
+
+Yet the perfume still arose to my nostrils--the sweet, subtle scent which
+had condemned her.
+
+I briefly related to Mrs. Shand my amazing adventures of the previous
+night, my eyes furtively upon Phrida's countenance the while. Strangely
+enough, she betrayed no guilty knowledge, but fell to discussing the
+mystery with ease and common-sense calm.
+
+"What I can't really make out is how your friend could have had the
+audacity to pose as Sir Digby Kemsley, well knowing that the real person
+was alive," she remarked.
+
+"The police have discovered that Sir Digby died in Peru last January," I
+said.
+
+"While your friend was in London?"
+
+"Certainly. My friend--I shall still call him Sir Digby, for I have known
+him by no other name--has not been abroad since last July, when he went
+on business to Moscow."
+
+"How very extraordinary," remarked Mrs. Shand. "Your friend must surely
+have had some object in posing as the dead man."
+
+"But he posed as a man who was still alive!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Until, perhaps, he was found out," observed Phrida shrewdly. "Then he
+bolted."
+
+I glanced at her quickly. Did those words betray any knowledge of the
+truth, I wondered.
+
+"Apparently there was some mystery surrounding the death of Sir Digby at
+Huacho," I remarked. "The British Consul in Lima made a report upon it to
+the Foreign Office, who, in turn, handed it to Scotland Yard. I wonder
+what it was."
+
+"When you know, we shall be better able to judge the matter and to form
+some theory," Phrida said, crossing the room and re-arranging the big
+bowl of daffodils in the window.
+
+I remained about an hour, and then, amazed at the calmness of my
+well-beloved, I returned to my rooms.
+
+In impatience I waited till a quarter past five, when Haines ushered in a
+tall, well-dressed, clean-shaven man, wearing a dark grey overcoat and
+white slip beneath his waistcoat, and who introduced himself as Inspector
+Charles Edwards.
+
+"I've called, Mr. Royle, in order to make some further inquiries
+regarding this person you have known as Sir Digby Kemsley," he said when
+he had seated himself. "A very curious affair happened last night. I've
+been down to Harrington Gardens, and have had a look around there myself.
+Many features of the affair are unique."
+
+"Yes," I agreed. "It is curious--very curious."
+
+"I have a copy of your statement regarding your visit to the house during
+the night," said the official, who was one of the Council of Seven at the
+Yard, looking up at me suddenly from the cigarette he was about to light.
+"Have you any suspicion who killed the young lady?"
+
+"How can I have--except that my friend----"
+
+"Is missing--eh?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"But now, tell me all about this friend whom you knew as Sir Digby
+Kemsley. How did you first become acquainted with him?"
+
+"I met him on a steamer on the Lake of Garda this last summer," was my
+reply. "I was staying at Riva, the little town at the north end of the
+lake, over the Austrian frontier, and one day took the steamer down to
+Gardone, in Italy. We sat next each other at lunch on board, and, owing
+to a chance conversation, became friends."
+
+"What did he tell you?"
+
+"Well, only that he was travelling for his health. He mentioned that he
+had been a great deal in South America, and was then over in Europe for
+a holiday. Indeed, on the first day we met, he did not even mention his
+name, and I quite forgot to ask for it. In travelling one meets so many
+people who are only of brief passing interest. It was not until a week
+later, when I found him staying in the same hotel as myself, the Cavour,
+in Milan, I learnt from the hall-porter that he was Sir Digby Kemsley,
+the great engineer. We travelled to Florence together, and stayed at the
+Baglioni, but one morning when I came down I found a hurried note
+awaiting me. From the hall-porter I learned that a gentleman had arrived
+in the middle of the night, and Sir Digby, after an excited controversy,
+left with him for London. In the note he gave me his address in
+Harrington Gardens, and asked me not to fail to call on my return to
+town."
+
+"Curious to have a visitor in the middle of the night," remarked the
+detective reflectively.
+
+"I thought so at the time, but, knowing him to be a man of wide business
+interests, concluded that it was someone who had brought him an urgent
+message," I replied. "Well, the rest is quickly told. On my return home I
+sought him out, with the result that we became great friends."
+
+"You had no suspicion that he was an impostor?"
+
+"None whatever. He seemed well known in London," I replied. "Besides, if
+he was not the real Sir Digby, how is it possible that he could have so
+completely deceived his friends! Why, he has visited the offices of
+Colliers, the great railway contractors in Westminster--the firm who
+constructed the railway in Peru. I recollect calling there with him in a
+taxi one day."
+
+Edwards smiled.
+
+"He probably did that to impress you, sir," he replied. "They may have
+known him as somebody else. Or he simply went in and made an inquiry.
+He's evidently a very clever person."
+
+Personally, I could not see how my friend could possibly have posed as
+Sir Digby Kemsley if he were not, even though Edwards pointed out that
+the real Sir Digby had only been in London a fortnight for the past nine
+years.
+
+Still, on viewing the whole situation, I confess inclination towards the
+belief that my friend was, notwithstanding the allegations, the real Sir
+Digby.
+
+And yet those strange words of his, spoken in such confidence on the
+previous night, recurred to me. There was mystery somewhere--a far more
+obscure mystery even than what was apparent at that moment.
+
+"Tell me what is known concerning Sir Digby's death in Peru," I asked.
+
+"From the report furnished to us at the Yard it seems that one day last
+August, while the gentleman in question was riding upon a trolley on the
+Cerro de Pasco railway, the conveyance was accidentally overturned into a
+river, and he was badly injured in the spine. A friend of his, a somewhat
+mysterious Englishman named Cane, brought him down to the hospital at
+Lima, and after two months there, he becoming convalescent, was conveyed
+for fresh air to Huacho, on the sea. Here he lived with Cane in a small
+bungalow in a somewhat retired spot, until on one night in February last
+year something occurred--but exactly what, nobody is able to tell. Sir
+Digby was found by his Peruvian servant dead from snake-bite. Cane
+evinced the greatest distress and horror until, of a sudden, a second
+man-servant declared that he had heard his master cry out in terror as he
+lay helpless in his bed. He heard him shriek: 'You--you blackguard,
+Cane--take the thing away! Ah! God! You've--you've killed me!' Cane
+denied it, and proved that he was at a friend's house playing cards at
+the hour when the servant heard his master shout for help. Next day,
+however, he disappeared. Our Consul in Lima took up the matter, and in
+due course a full report of the affair was forwarded to the Yard,
+together with a very detailed description of the man wanted. This we sent
+around the world, but up to to-day without result."
+
+"Then the man Cane was apparently responsible for the death of the
+invalid," I remarked.
+
+"I think so--without a doubt."
+
+"But who was the invalid? Was he the real Sir Digby?"
+
+"Aye, that's the question," said Edwards, thrusting his hands into his
+trouser pockets. For some moments we both sat staring blankly into the
+fire.
+
+"Among the papers sent to us," he said very slowly at last, "was this.
+Read it, and tell me your opinion."
+
+And then he took from his pocket-book and handed me a half-sheet of thin
+foreign notepaper, which had been closely written upon on both sides. It
+was apparently a sheet from a letter, for there was no beginning and no
+ending.
+
+The handwriting was educated, though small and crabbed, and the ink brown
+and half-faded, perhaps because of its exposure to a tropical climate. It
+had been written by a man, without a doubt.
+
+"That," said Edwards, "was found in a pocket-book belonging to Cane,
+which, in his hasty flight, he apparently forgot. According to our report
+the wallet was found concealed beneath the mattress of his bed, as though
+he feared lest anyone should read and learn what it contained. Read it,
+and tell me what you think."
+
+I took the sheet of thin paper in my fingers, and, crossing the room to a
+brighter light, managed to decipher the writing as follows:
+
+    "... At fourteen paces from where this wall rises from the lawn
+    stands the ever-plashing fountain. The basin is circular, while
+    around runs a paved path, hemmed in by smoke-blackened laurels
+    and cut off from the public way by iron railings. The water
+    falls with pleasant cadence into a small basin set upon a base
+    of moss-grown rockwork. Looking south one meets a vista of green
+    grass, of never-ceasing London traffic, and one tall distant
+    factory chimney away in the grey haze, while around the fountain
+    are four stunted trees. On the right stretches a strip of
+    garden, in spring green and gay with bulbs which bloom and die
+    unnoticed by the hundreds upon hundreds of London's workers who
+    pass and re-pass daily in their mad, reckless hurry to earn the
+    wherewithal to live.
+
+    "Halt upon the gravel at that spot on the twenty-third of the
+    month punctually at noon, and she will pass wearing the yellow
+    flower. It is the only trysting-place. She has kept it
+    religiously for one whole year without--alas!--effecting a
+    meeting. Go there--tell her that I still live, shake her hand in
+    greeting and assure her that I will come there as soon as ever I
+    am given strength so to do.
+
+    "I have been at that spot once only, yet every detail of its
+    appearance is impressed indelibly upon my memory. Alas! that I
+    do not know its name. Search and you will assuredly find it--and
+    you will see her. You will speak, and give her courage."
+
+I bit my lip.
+
+A sudden thought illuminated my mind.
+
+The yellow flower!
+
+Was not the mysterious woman whom I was to meet on the night of the
+fourteenth also to wear a yellow flower--the mimosa!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+"DEAR OLD DIG."
+
+
+I told Edwards nothing of Sir Digby's curious request, of his strange
+confidences, or of the mysterious letter to "E. P. K.", which now reposed
+in a locked drawer in my writing-table.
+
+My friend, be he impostor or not, had always treated me strictly
+honourably and well. Therefore, I did not intend to betray him, although
+he might be a fugitive hunted by the police.
+
+Yet was he a fugitive? Did not his words to me and his marvellous
+disguise prior to the tragedy imply an intention to disappear?
+
+The enigma was indeed beyond solution.
+
+At seven o'clock my visitor, finding necessity to revisit Harrington
+Gardens, I eagerly accompanied him.
+
+There is a briskness and brightness in Piccadilly at seven o'clock on a
+clear, cold, winter's night unequalled in any thoroughfare in the world.
+On the pavements and in the motor-buses are thousands of London's workers
+hurrying to their homes in western suburbs, mostly the female employees
+of the hundreds of shops and work-rooms which supply the world's
+fashions--for, after all, London has now ousted Paris as the centre of
+the feminine mode--the shops are still gaily lit, the club windows have
+not yet drawn their blinds, and as motors and taxis flash past eastward,
+one catches glimpses of pretty women in gay evening gowns, accompanied by
+their male escorts on pleasure bent: the restaurant, the theatre, and the
+supper, until the unwelcome cry--that cry which resounds at half-past
+twelve from end to end of Greater London, "Time, please, ladies and
+gentlemen. Time!"--the pharisaical decree that further harmless merriment
+is forbidden. How the foreigner laughs at our childish obedience to the
+decree of the killjoys. And well he may, especially when we know full
+well that while the good people of the middle class are forced to return
+to the dulness of their particular suburb, the people of the class above
+them can sneak in by back doors of unsuspected places, and indulge in
+drinking, gambling, and dancing till daylight. Truly the middle-class
+Londoner is a meek, obedient person. One day, however, he may revolt.
+
+Piccadilly was particularly bright and gay that night, as, passing the
+end of St. James's Street, we sped forward in the taxi towards Brompton
+Road and past the Natural History Museum to Gloucester Road.
+
+On our arrival the door of the flat was opened by a constable without a
+helmet. Recognising the famous inspector, he saluted.
+
+The body of the unknown girl had been removed to the mortuary for a
+post-mortem examination, but nothing else had been moved, and two
+officers of the C.I.D. were busy making examination for finger-prints.
+
+I allowed them to take mine for comparison, but some they found upon the
+mahogany table and upon the back of a chair were undoubtedly those of
+the victim herself.
+
+The small glass-topped specimen-table still lay where it had been
+overturned, and the fragments of the two green-glass flower-vases were
+strewn upon the carpet with the drooping red anemones themselves.
+
+Regarding the overturned table the two detectives held that it had
+separated the assassin from his victim; that the girl had been chased
+around it several times before her assailant had thrown it down, suddenly
+sprung upon her, and delivered the fatal blow, full in her chest.
+
+"We've thoroughly examined it for finger-prints, sir," the elder of the
+two officers explained to my companion. "Both on the glass top and on the
+mahogany edge there are a number of prints of the victim herself, as well
+as a number made by another hand."
+
+"A man's?" I asked.
+
+"No; curiously enough, it seems to be a woman's," was the reply.
+
+"A woman's!"
+
+I thought of that sweet perfume, and of the person who had lurked in the
+shadow of the stairs!
+
+"That's interesting," remarked Edwards. "They may be those of the woman
+who wore green combs in her hair, or else of the porter's wife."
+
+"The owner's man-servant is away abroad on business for his master, we've
+found out," answered the man addressed. "So of late the porter's wife,
+who lives in the basement of the next house, has been in the habit of
+coming in every day and tidying up the room. We took her prints this
+morning, and have found quite a lot about the place. No," added the man
+emphatically, "the finger-prints on that little table yonder are not
+those of the porter's wife, but of another woman who's been here
+recently. We only find them upon the door-handle and on the edge of the
+writing-table, against which the woman must have leaned. We'll have them
+photographed to-morrow."
+
+The men then showed us the marks in question--distinct impressions of
+small finger-tips, which they had rendered vivid and undeniable by the
+application of a finely-powdered chalk of a pale green colour.
+
+Apparently the two experts had devoted the whole day to the search for
+finger-print clues, and they had established the fact that two women had
+been there--the victim and another.
+
+Who was she?
+
+The investigation of the papers in my friend's writing-table had not yet
+been made. Inspector Edwards had telephoned earlier in the day, stating
+that he would himself go through them.
+
+Therefore, exercising every care not to obliterate the three finger-marks
+upon the edge of the table, the officers proceeded to break open drawer
+after drawer and methodically examine the contents while I looked on.
+
+The work was exciting. At any moment we might discover something which
+would throw light upon the tragedy, the grim evidence of which remained
+in that dark, still damp stain upon the carpet--the life-blood of the
+unknown victim.
+
+Already the face of the dead girl had been photographed, and would,
+before morning, be circulated everywhere in an endeavour to secure
+identification.
+
+I had learnt from Edwards that before noon that morning, upon the
+notice-board outside Bow Street Police Station, there had been posted one
+of those pale, buff-coloured bills headed in great, bold capitals: "Body
+found," in which the description had been filled in by a clerkish hand,
+and at the bottom a statement that the corpse was lying at the Kensington
+Mortuary awaiting identification.
+
+That she was a lady seemed established by her dress, her well-kept hands,
+innocent of manual labour, by the costly rings and bracelet she was
+wearing, and the fact that, in the pocket of her coat was found her purse
+containing eleven pounds in gold and some silver.
+
+Sir Digby's papers promised to be extremely interesting, as we cleared
+the books off a side-table and sat down to carefully investigate them.
+
+The writing-table was a pedestal one, with a centre drawer and four
+drawers on either side. The first drawer burst open was the top one on
+the left, and from it Edwards drew two bundles of letters, each secured
+by faded pink tape.
+
+These bundles he handed to me, saying--
+
+"See what you think of these, Mr. Royle!"
+
+One after another I opened them. They were all in the same sprawly
+handwriting of a woman--a woman who simply signed herself "Mittie."
+
+They were love-letters written in the long ago, many commencing "My
+darling," or "Dearest," and some with "Dear old Dig."
+
+Though it seemed mean of me to peer into the closed chapter of my
+friend's history, I quickly found myself absorbed in them. They were the
+passionate outpourings of a brave but overburdened heart. Most of them
+were dated from hotels in the South of England and in Ireland, and were
+apparently written at the end of the eighties. But as no envelopes had
+been preserved they gave no clue to where the addressee had been at the
+time.
+
+Nearly all were on foreign notepaper, so we agreed that he must have been
+abroad.
+
+As I read, it became apparent that the writer and the addressee had been
+deeply in love with one another, but the lady's parents had forbidden
+their marriage; and as, alas! in so many like cases, she had been induced
+to make an odious but wealthier marriage. The man's name was Francis.
+
+    "He is, alas! just the same," she wrote in one letter dated
+    "Mount Ephraim Hotel, at Tunbridge Wells, Thursday": "We have
+    nothing in common. He only thinks of his dividends, his stocks
+    and shares, and his business in the City always. I am simply an
+    ornament of his life, a woman who acts as his hostess and
+    relieves him of much trouble in social anxieties. If father had
+    not owed him seventeen thousand pounds he would, I feel certain,
+    never have allowed me to marry him. But I paid my father's debt
+    with my happiness, with my very life. And you, dear old Dig, are
+    the only person who knows the secret of my broken heart. You
+    will be home in London seven weeks from to-day. I will meet you
+    at the old place at three o'clock on the first of October, for I
+    have much--so very much--to tell you. Father knows now how I
+    hate this dull, impossible life of mine, and how dearly I love
+    your own kind self. I told him so to-day, and he pities me. I
+    hope you will get this letter before you leave, but I shall
+    watch the movements of your ship, and I shall meet you on the
+    first of October. Till then adieu.--Ever your own MITTIE."
+
+At the old place! Where was it, I wondered? At what spot had the secret
+meeting been effected between the man who had returned from abroad and
+the woman who loved him so well, though she had been forced to become the
+wife of another.
+
+That meeting had taken place more than twenty years ago. What had been
+its result was shown in the next letter I opened.
+
+Written from the Queen's Hotel at Hastings on the fourth of October, the
+unfortunate "Mittie," who seemed to spend her life travelling on the
+South Coast, penned the following in a thin, uncertain hand:--
+
+    "Our meeting was a mistake, Dig, a grave mistake. We were
+    watched by somebody in the employ of Francis. When I returned to
+    Tunbridge Wells he taxed me with having met you, described our
+    trysting-place--the fountain--and how we had walked and walked
+    until, becoming too tired, we had entered that quiet little
+    restaurant to dine. He has misjudged me horribly. The sneak who
+    watched us must have lied to him, or he would never have spoken
+    to me as he did--he would not have insulted me. That night I
+    left him, and am here alone. Do not come near me, do not reply
+    to this. It might make matters worse. Though we are parted, Dig,
+    you know I love you and only you--_you_! Still your own MITTIE."
+
+I sat staring at that half-faded letter, taking no heed of what Edwards
+was saying.
+
+The fountain! They had met at the fountain, and had been seen!
+
+Could that spot be the same as mentioned in the mysterious letter left
+behind by the fugitive Cane after the sudden death of the Englishman away
+in far-off Peru?
+
+Did someone, after all the lapse of years, go there on every twenty-third
+of the month at noon wearing a yellow flower, to wait for a person who,
+alas! never came?
+
+The thought filled me with romance, even though we were at that moment
+investigating a very remarkable tragedy. Yet surely in no city in this
+world is there so much romance, so much pathos, such whole-hearted love
+and affection, or such deep and deadly hatred as in our great palpitating
+metropolis, where secret assassinations are of daily occurrence, and
+where the most unpardonable sin is that of being found out.
+
+"What's that you've got hold of?" Edwards asked me, as he crossed to the
+table and bent over me.
+
+I started.
+
+Then, recovering myself--for I had no desire that he should
+know--replied, quite coolly:
+
+"Oh, only a few old letters--written long ago, in the eighties."
+
+"Ah! Ancient history, eh?"
+
+"Yes," I replied, packing them together and retying them with the soiled,
+pink tape. "But have you discovered anything?"
+
+"Well," he replied with a self-conscious smile, "I've found a letter here
+which rather alters my theory," and I saw that he held a piece of grey
+notepaper in his hand. "Here is a note addressed to him as long ago as
+1900 in the name of Sir Digby Kemsley! Perhaps, after all, the man who
+died so mysteriously in Peru was an impostor, and the owner of this place
+was the real Sir Digby!"
+
+"Exactly my own theory," I declared.
+
+"But that fountain!" he remarked. "The fountain mentioned in the letter
+left behind by the man Cane. We must take immediate steps to identify it,
+and it must be watched on the twenty-third for the coming of the woman
+who wears a yellow flower. When we find her, we shall be able to discover
+something very interesting, Mr. Royle. Don't you agree?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+"TIME WILL PROVE."
+
+
+These are truly the fevered days of journalistic enterprise the world
+over.
+
+There are no smarter journalists than those of Fleet Street, and none,
+not even in New York, with scent more keen for sensational news. "The
+day's story" is the first thought in every newspaper office, and surely
+no story would have been a greater "scoop" for any journal than the
+curious facts which I have related in the foregoing pages.
+
+But even though the gentlemen of the Press are ubiquitous, many a curious
+happening, and many a remarkable coroner's inquiry, often remain
+unreported.
+
+And so in this case. When, on the following morning, the coroner for the
+borough of Kensington held his inquiry in the little court off the High
+Street, no reporter was present, and only half a dozen idlers were seated
+in the back of the gloomy room.
+
+When the jury had taken their seats after viewing the remains, according
+to custom, the police inspector reported to the coroner that the body
+remained unidentified, though the description had been telegraphed
+everywhere.
+
+"I might add, sir," went on the inspector, "that there is strong belief
+that the young lady may be a foreigner. Upon the tab of her coat she was
+wearing was the name of a costumier: 'Sartori, Via Roma.' Only the name
+of the street, and not the town is given. But it must be somewhere in
+Italy. We are in communication with the Italian police with a view to
+ascertaining the name of the town, and hope thus to identify the
+deceased."
+
+"Very well!" said the coroner, a shrewd, middle-aged, clean-shaven man in
+gold pince-nez. "Let us have the evidence," and he arranged his papers
+with business-like exactitude.
+
+The procedure differed in no way from that in any other coroner's court
+in the kingdom, the relation of dry details by matter-of-fact persons
+spoken slowly in order that they might be carefully taken down.
+
+The scene was, indeed, a gloomy one, for the morning was dark, and the
+place was lit by electric light. The jury--twelve honest householders of
+Kensington--appeared from the outset eager to get back to their daily
+avocations. They were unaware of the curious enigma about to be presented
+to them.
+
+Not until I began to give my evidence did they appear to evince any
+curiosity regarding the case. But presently, when I had related my
+midnight interview with my friend, who was now a fugitive, the foreman
+put to me several questions.
+
+"You say that after your return from your visit from this man, Sir Digby
+Kemsley, he rang you up on the telephone?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What did he say?" inquired the foreman, a thin, white-headed man whose
+social standing was no doubt slightly above that of his fellow jurymen.
+
+"He asked me to return to him at once," was my reply.
+
+"But this appears extraordinary----"
+
+"We are not here to criticise the evidence, sir!" interrupted the coroner
+sharply. "We are only here to decide how the deceased came by her
+death--by accident, or by violence. Have you any doubt?"
+
+The foreman replied in the negative, and refrained from further
+cross-examining me.
+
+The coroner himself, however, put one or two pointed questions. He asked
+me whether I believed that it had actually been Sir Digby speaking on the
+second occasion, when I had been rung up, to which I replied:
+
+"At first, the voice sounded unfamiliar."
+
+"At first! Did you recognise it afterwards?"
+
+I paused for a few seconds, and then was compelled to admit that I had
+not been entirely certain.
+
+"Voices are, of course, often distorted by the telephone," remarked the
+coroner. "But in this case you may have believed the voice to have been
+your friend's because he spoke of things which you had been discussing in
+private only half-an-hour before. It may have been the voice of a
+stranger."
+
+"That is my own opinion, sir," I replied.
+
+"Ah!" he ejaculated, "and I entirely agree with you, for if your friend
+had contemplated the crime of murder he would scarcely have telephoned to
+you to come back. He would be most anxious to get the longest start he
+could before the raising of any hue and cry."
+
+This remark further aroused the curiosity of the hitherto apathetic jury,
+who sat and listened intently to the medical evidence which followed.
+
+The result of the doctor's examination was quickly told, and not of great
+interest. He had been called by the police and found the young woman
+dying from a deep wound under the breast, which had penetrated to the
+heart, the result of a savage blow with some long, thin, and very sharp
+instrument. The girl was not dead when he first saw her, but she expired
+about ten minutes afterwards.
+
+"I should think that the weapon used was a knife with a very sharp,
+triangular blade judging from the wound," the spruce-looking doctor
+explained. "The police, however, have failed to discover it."
+
+The words of the witness held me dumbfounded.
+
+"Have you ever met with knives with triangular blades, doctor?" inquired
+the coroner.
+
+"Oh, yes!" was the reply. "One sees them in collections of mediæval arms.
+In ancient days they were carried almost universally in Southern
+Europe--the blade about nine inches long, and sometimes perforated. Along
+the blade, grease impregnated with mineral poison was placed, so that, on
+striking, some of the grease would remain in the wound. This form of
+knife was most deadly, and in Italy it was known as a misericordia."
+
+I sat there listening with open mouth. Why? Because I knew where one of
+those curious knives had been--one with a carved handle of cracked,
+yellow ivory. I had often taken it up and looked at the coat of arms
+carved upon the ivory--the shield with the six balls of the princely
+house of the Medici.
+
+"And in your opinion, doctor, the deceased came by her death from a blow
+from such a weapon as you describe?" the coroner was asking.
+
+"That is my firm opinion. The wound penetrated to the heart, and death
+was probably almost instantaneous."
+
+"Would she utter a cry?"
+
+"I think she would."
+
+"And yet no one seems to have heard any noise!" remarked the coroner. "Is
+that so?" he asked, turning to the police inspector.
+
+"We have no evidence of any cry being heard," replied the officer. "I
+purposely asked the other tenants of the flats above and below. But they
+heard no unusual sound."
+
+One of the detective-sergeants was then called; Inspector Edwards, though
+present, being purposely omitted. In reply to the coroner, he described
+the finding of the body, its examination, and the investigation which
+ensued.
+
+"I need not ask you if you have any clue to the assassin," said the
+coroner, when he had concluded writing down the depositions. "I presume
+you are actively prosecuting inquiries?"
+
+"Yes, sir," was the brief response.
+
+"I think, gentlemen," the coroner said, turning at last to the jury,
+"that we can go no further with this inquiry to-day. We must leave it for
+the police to investigate, and if we adjourn, let us say for a fortnight,
+we may then, I hope, have evidence of identification before us. The case
+certainly presents a number of curious features, not the least being the
+fact that the owner of the flat has mysteriously fled. When he is found
+he will, no doubt, throw some light upon the puzzling affair. I have to
+thank you for your attendance to-day, gentlemen," he added, addressing
+the dozen respectable householders, "and ask you to be present again this
+day fortnight--at noon."
+
+There was evident dissatisfaction among the jury, as there is always when
+a coroner's inquest is ever adjourned.
+
+It is certainly the reverse of pleasant to be compelled to keep an
+appointment which may mean considerable out-of-pocket expense and much
+personal inconvenience.
+
+One juror, indeed, raised an objection, as he had to go to do business in
+Scotland. Whereupon the coroner, as he rose, expressed his regret but
+declared himself unable to assist him. It was, he remarked, his duty as a
+citizen to assist in this inquiry, and to arrive at a verdict.
+
+After that the court rose, and every one broke up into small groups to
+discuss the strange affair of which the Press were at present in
+ignorance.
+
+Edwards had crossed the room and was speaking to me. But I heard him not.
+I was thinking of that triangular-bladed weapon--the "misericordia" of
+the middle ages--so frequently used for stealthy knife-thrusts.
+
+"Coming?" he asked at last. This aroused me to a sense of my
+surroundings, and I followed him blindly out into the afternoon shopping
+bustle of High Street, Kensington.
+
+Outside the Underground Station were the flower-sellers. Some were
+offering that tribute which the Riviera never fails to send to us
+Londoners in spring--sprigs of mimosa: the yellow flower which would be
+worn by the mysterious "E. P. K.," the written message to whom reposed in
+my writing-table at home.
+
+Personally, I am not a man of mystery, but just an ordinary London
+business man, differing in no way to thousands of others who are at the
+head of prosperous commercial concerns. London with all its garish
+glitter, its moods of dulness and of gaiety, its petrol-smelling streets,
+its farces of passing life, and its hard and bitter dramas always
+appealed to me. It was my home, the atmosphere in which I had been born
+and bred, nay, my very existence. I loved London and was ever true to the
+city of my birth, even though its climate might be derided, and Paris
+claimed as the one city in which to find the acme of comfort and
+enjoyment.
+
+I had not sought mystery--far from it. It had been thrust upon me, and
+now, as we went along the High Street in Kensington, towards the
+police-station, I found myself a sudden but important factor in a stern
+chase--a man-hunt--such as London had seldom known, for Edwards was
+saying to me:
+
+"At all hazards we must find your friend Kemsley, and you, Mr. Royle,
+must help us. You know him, and can identify him. There are grave
+suspicions against him, and these must be cleared up in view of the
+mysterious tragedy in Harrington Gardens."
+
+"You surely don't expect me to denounce my friend!" I cried.
+
+"It is not a question of denouncing him. His own actions have rendered
+the truth patent to every one. The girl was brutally killed, and he
+disappeared. Therefore he must be found," Edwards said.
+
+"But who was it who telephoned to me, do you think?" I asked.
+
+"Himself, perhaps. He was full of inventiveness, and he may have adopted
+that course hoping, when the time came, to prove an alibi. Who knows?"
+asked the famous inspector.
+
+"Look here!" I said as we crossed the threshold of the police-station, "I
+don't believe Sir Digby was either an impostor or an assassin."
+
+"Time will prove, Mr. Royle," he laughed with an incredulous air. "A man
+don't take all these precautions before disappearing unless he has a
+deeper motive. Your friend evidently knew of the lady's impending visit.
+Indeed, how could she have entered the flat had he not admitted her?"
+
+"She might have had a key," I hazarded.
+
+"Might--but not very likely," he said. "No, my firm conviction is that
+the man you know as Sir Digby Kemsley struck the fatal blow, and took the
+knife away with him."
+
+I shrugged my shoulders, but did not reply.
+
+Inside the station, we passed into the long room devoted to the officers
+of the Criminal Investigation Department attached to the division, and
+there met two sergeants who had given evidence.
+
+I was shown the photograph of the dead unknown, calm, and even pretty,
+just as I had seen her lying stretched in Digby's room.
+
+"The medical evidence was curious, Mr. Royle, wasn't it?" Edwards
+remarked. "That triangular knife ought not to be very difficult to trace.
+There surely are not many of them about."
+
+"No," I replied faintly, for the recollection of one which I had seen
+only a few days prior to the tragic occurrence--the one with the arms of
+the Medici carved upon its hilt, arose vividly before me.
+
+To me, alas! the awful truth was now plain.
+
+My suspicion regarding the culprit had, by the doctor's evidence, become
+entirely confirmed.
+
+I set my jaws hard in agony of mind. What was a mystery of London was to
+me no longer a mystery!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE PIECE OF CONVICTION.
+
+
+The morning of the tenth of January was one of those of gloom and
+darkness which are, on occasions, the blots upon London's reputation.
+
+There seemed no fog, only a heavy, threatening cloud of night fell
+suddenly upon the city, and at three o'clock it might have been midnight.
+Streets, shops, and offices were lit everywhere, and buses and taxis
+compelled to light up, while in the atmosphere was a sulphurous odour
+with a black deposit which caused the eyes to smart and the lungs to
+irritate.
+
+Londoners know those periods of unpleasant darkness only too well.
+
+I was sitting in my room in Albemarle Street, watching Haines, who was
+cleaning a piece of old silver I had bought at an auction on the previous
+day. The collecting of old silver is, I may say, my hobby, and the piece
+was a very fine old Italian reliquary, about ten inches in height, with
+the Sicilian mark of the seventeenth century.
+
+Haines, under my tuition, had become an expert and careful cleaner of
+silver, and I was watching and exhorting him to exercise the greatest
+care, as the ornamentation was thin, and some of the scrollwork around
+the top extremely fragile. It had, according to the inscription at its
+base, contained a bone of a certain saint--a local saint of Palermo it
+seemed--but the relic had disappeared long ago. Yet the silver case
+which, for centuries, had stood upon an altar somewhere, was a really
+exquisite piece of the silversmith's art.
+
+Suddenly the telephone-bell rang, and on answering it I heard Phrida's
+voice asking--
+
+"I say, Teddy, is that you? Why haven't you been over since Thursday?"
+
+I started, recollecting that I had not been to Cromwell Road since the
+afternoon of the inquest--three days ago.
+
+"Dear, do forgive me," I craved. "I--I've been so horribly busy. Had to
+be at the works each day."
+
+"But you might have been over in the evening," she responded in a tone of
+complaint. "You remember you promised to take me to the St. James's last
+night, and I expected you."
+
+"Oh, dearest, I'm so sorry," I said. "But I've been awfully worried, you
+know. Do forgive me!"
+
+"Yes, I know!" she answered. "Well, I'll forgive you if you'll run over
+now and take me to tea at the Leslies. I've ordered the car for four
+o'clock. Will that suit you?"
+
+The Leslies! They were snobbish folk with whom I had but little in
+common. Yet what could I do but agree?
+
+And then my well-beloved rang off.
+
+When I got down to Cromwell Road just before four o'clock, the darkness
+had not lifted.
+
+My feelings as I passed along the big, old-fashioned hall and up the
+thickly-carpeted stairs to the drawing-room were mixed ones of doubt,
+and yet of deep affection.
+
+Ah, I loved Phrida--loved her better than my own life--and yet----?
+
+Fresh in my memory was the doctor's evidence that the crime in Harrington
+Gardens had been committed with a thin, triangular knife--a knife such as
+that I had often seen lying upon the old-fashioned, walnut what-not in
+the corner of the room I was just about to enter. I had known it lying in
+the same place for years.
+
+Was it still there?
+
+Purposely, because I felt that it could no longer be there, I had
+refrained from calling upon my love, and now, when I paused and turned
+the handle of the drawing-room door, I hardly dared to cast my eyes upon
+that antiquated piece of furniture.
+
+Phrida, who was sitting with her hat and coat already on, jumped up gaily
+to meet me.
+
+"Oh, you really are prompt, Teddy!" she cried with a flush of pleasure.
+
+Then, as I bent over her mother's hand, the latter said--
+
+"You're quite a stranger, Mr. Royle. I expect you have been very upset
+over the curious disappearance of your friend. We've searched the papers
+every day, but could find nothing whatever about it."
+
+Phrida had turned towards the fire, her pretty head bent as she buttoned
+her glove.
+
+"No," I replied. "Up to the present the newspapers are in complete
+ignorance of the affair. But no doubt they'll learn all about it before
+long."
+
+Then, crossing the room to pick up a magazine lying upon a chair, I
+halted against the old walnut what-not.
+
+Yes, the mediæval poignard was still lying there, just as I had always
+seen it!
+
+Had it been used, and afterwards replaced?
+
+I scarcely dared to glance at it, lest I should betray any unusual
+interest. I felt that Phrida's eyes were watching me, that she suspected
+my knowledge.
+
+I took up the magazine idly, glanced at it, and, replacing it, returned
+to her side.
+
+"Well," she asked, "are you ready?"
+
+And then together we descended to the car.
+
+All the way up to Abbey Road she hardly spoke. She seemed unusually pale
+and haggard. I asked her what was the matter, but she only replied in a
+faint, unnatural voice--
+
+"Matter? Why nothing--nothing, I assure you, Teddy!"
+
+I did not reply. I gazed upon the pretty, pale-faced figure at my side in
+wonder and yet in fear. I loved her--ah! I loved her well and truly, with
+all my soul. Yet was it possible that by means of that knife lying there
+so openly in that West-End drawing-room a woman's life had been
+treacherously taken.
+
+Had my friend Digby, the fugitive, actually committed the crime?
+
+When I put the whole matter clearly and with common-sense before myself,
+I was bound to admit that I had a strong belief of his innocence.
+
+What would those finger-prints reveal?
+
+The thought held me breathless. Yes, to satisfy myself I would
+surreptitiously secure finger-prints of my well-beloved and then in
+secret compare them with those found in Sir Digby's rooms.
+
+But how? I was reflecting as the car passed by Apsley House and into the
+Park on its way to St. John's Wood.
+
+Was I acting honestly? I doubted her, I quite admit. Yet I felt that if I
+took some object--a glass, or something with a polished surface--that she
+had touched, and submitted it to examination, I would be acting as a
+sneak.
+
+The idea was repugnant to me. Yet with that horrible suspicion obsessing
+me I felt that I must do something in order to satisfy myself.
+
+What inane small talk I uttered in the Leslies' big, over-furnished
+drawing-room I know not. All I remember is that I sat with some insipid
+girl whose hair was flaxen and as colourless as her mind, sipping my tea
+while I listened to her silly chatter about a Cook's tour she had just
+taken through Holland and Belgium. The estimable Cook is, alas!
+responsible for much tea-table chatter among the fair sex.
+
+Our hostess was an obese, flashily-dressed, dogmatic lady, the wife of
+the chairman of a big drapery concern who, having married her eldest
+daughter to a purchased knighthood, fondly believed herself to be in
+society--thanks to the "paid paragraphs" in the social columns of certain
+morning newspapers. It is really wonderful what half-guineas will do
+towards social advancement in these days! For a guinea one's presence can
+be recorded at a dinner, or an at home, or one's departure from town can
+be notified to the world in general in a paragraph all to one's self--a
+paragraph which rubs shoulders with those concerning the highest in the
+land. The snobbery of the "social column" would really be amusing were it
+not so painfully apparent. A good press-agent will, for a fee, give one
+as much publicity and newspaper popularity as that enjoyed by a duke, and
+most amazing is it that such paragraphs are swallowed with keen avidity
+by Suburbia.
+
+The Leslies were an average specimen of the upper middle-class, who were
+struggling frantically to get into a good set. The old man was bald,
+pompous, and always wore gold pince-nez and a fancy waistcoat. He carried
+his shop manners into his drawing-room, retaining his habit of rubbing
+his hands in true shop-walker style when he wished to be polite to his
+guests.
+
+His wife was a loud-tongued and altogether impossible person, who, it was
+said, had once served behind the counter in a small shop in Cardiff, but
+who now regarded the poor workers in her husband's huge emporium as mere
+money-making machines.
+
+By dint of careful cultivation at bazaars and such-like charitable
+functions she had scraped acquaintance with a few women of title, to whom
+she referred in conversation as "dear Lady So and So, who said to me the
+other day," or "as my friend Lady Violet always says."
+
+She had buttonholed me at last, though I had endeavoured to escape her,
+and was standing before me like a pouter-pigeon pluming herself and
+endeavouring to be humorous at the expense of a very modest little
+married woman who had been her guest that afternoon and had just left
+after shaking my hand.
+
+Women of Mrs. Leslie's stamp are perhaps the most evil-tongued of all.
+They rise from obscurity, and finding wealth at their command, imagine
+that they can command obeisance and popularity. Woe betide other women
+who arouse their jealousy, for they will scandalise and blight the
+reputation of the purest of their sex in the suburban belief that the
+invention of scandal is the hallmark of smartness.
+
+At last I got rid of her, thanks to the arrival of an elegant young man,
+the younger son of a well-known peer, to whom, of course, she was at once
+all smiles, and, presently, I found myself out in the hall with Phrida. I
+breathed more freely when at last I passed into the keen air and entered
+the car.
+
+"Those people are impossible, dearest," I blurted out when the car had
+moved away from the door. "They are the most vulgar pair I know."
+
+"I quite agree," replied my well-beloved, pulling the fur rug over her
+knees. "But they are old friends of mother's, so I'm compelled to go and
+see them sometimes."
+
+"Ah!" I sighed. "I suppose the old draper will buy a knighthood at this
+year's sale for the King's Birthday, and then his fat wife will have a
+tin handle to her name."
+
+"Really, Teddy, you're simply awful," replied my companion. "If they
+heard you I wonder what they would say?"
+
+"I don't care," I replied frankly. "I only speak the truth. The
+Government sell their titles to anybody who cares to buy. Ah! I fear that
+few men who really deserve honour ever get it in these days. No man can
+become great unless he has the influence of money to back him. The
+biggest swindler who ever walked up Threadneedle Street can buy a
+peerage, always providing he is married and has no son. As old Leslie
+buys his calicoes, ribbons and women's frills, so he'll buy his title. He
+hasn't a son, so perhaps he'll fancy a peerage and become the Lord
+Bargain of Sale."
+
+Phrida laughed heartily at my biting sarcasm.
+
+Truth to tell, though I was uttering bitter sentiments, my thoughts were
+running in a very different direction. I was wondering how I could best
+obtain the finger-prints of the woman who held my future so irrevocably
+in her hands.
+
+I had become determined to satisfy myself of my love's innocence--or--can
+I write the words?--of her guilt!
+
+And as I sat there beside her, my nostrils again became filled by that
+sweet subtle perfume--the perfume of tragedy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+FATAL FINGERS.
+
+
+Two days passed.
+
+Those finger-prints--impressions left by a woman--upon the glass-topped
+specimen table in Sir Digby's room and on the door handle, were puzzling
+the police as they puzzled me. They had already been proved not to be
+those of the porter's wife, the lines being lighter and more refined.
+
+According to Edwards, after the finger-prints had been photographed,
+search had been made in the archives at Scotland Yard, but no record
+could be found that they were those of any person previously convicted.
+
+Were they imprints of the hand of my well-beloved?
+
+I held my breath each time that black and terrible suspicion filled my
+mind. I tried to put them aside, but, like a nightmare, they would recur
+to me hourly until I felt impelled to endeavour to satisfy myself as to
+her guilt or her innocence.
+
+I loved her. Yes, passionately and truly. Yet, somehow, I could not
+prevent this ever-recurring suspicion to fill my mind. There were so many
+small points to be elucidated--the jingle of the golden bangles, and
+especially the perfume, which each time I entered her presence recalled
+to me all the strange and unaccountable happenings of that fatal night.
+
+Again, who was the poor, unidentified victim--the pale-faced, pretty
+young woman who had visited Digby clandestinely, and gone to her death?
+
+Up to the present the police notices circulated throughout the country
+had failed to establish who she was. Yet, if she were a foreigner, as
+seemed so likely, identification might be extremely difficult; indeed,
+she might ever remain a mystery.
+
+It was nearly ten o'clock at night when I called at Cromwell Road, for I
+had excused myself for not coming earlier, having an object in view.
+
+I found Phrida in the library, sweet and attractive in a pale blue gown
+cut slightly _décolletée_. She and her mother had been out to dinner
+somewhere in Holland Park, and had only just returned.
+
+Mrs. Shand drew an armchair for me to the fire, and we all three sat down
+to chat in the cosiness of the sombre little book-lined den. Bain, the
+old butler, who had known me almost since childhood, placed the tantalus,
+a syphon and glasses near my elbow, and at Phrida's invitation I poured
+myself out a drink and lit a cigarette.
+
+"Come," I said, "you will have your usual lemonade"; and at my suggestion
+her mother ordered Bain to bring a syphon of that harmless beverage.
+
+My love reached forward for one of the glasses, whereupon I took one and,
+with a word of apology, declared that it was not quite clean.
+
+"Not clean!" exclaimed Mrs. Shand quickly.
+
+"There are a few smears upon it," I said, and adding "Excuse my
+handkerchief. It is quite clean," I took the silk handkerchief I carried
+with me purposely, and polished it with the air of a professional waiter.
+
+Both Phrida and her mother laughed.
+
+"Really, Mr. Royle, you are full of eccentricities," declared Mrs. Shand.
+"You always remind me of your poor father. He was most particular."
+
+"One cannot be too careful, or guard sufficiently against germs, you
+know," I said, handling the clean glass carefully and pouring out the
+lemonade from the syphon.
+
+Phrida took the glass from my hand, and laughing happily across its edge,
+drank. Her fingers were leaving tell-tale impressions upon its surface.
+And yet she was unconscious of my duplicity. Ah! yes, I hated myself for
+my double dealing. And yet so filled was I now by dark and breathless
+suspicion, that I found myself quite unable to resist an opportunity of
+establishing proof.
+
+I watched her as she, in all innocence, leaned back in the big saddle-bag
+chair holding her glass in her hand and now and then contemplating it.
+The impressions--impressions which could not lie--would be the means of
+exonerating her--or of condemning her.
+
+Those golden bangles upon her slim white wrist and that irritating
+perfume held me entranced. What did she know concerning that strange
+tragedy in Harrington Gardens. What, indeed, was the secret?
+
+My chief difficulty was to remain apparently indifferent. But to do so
+was indeed a task. I loved her, aye, with all my strength, and all my
+soul. Yet the black cloud which had fallen upon her was one of
+impenetrable mystery, and as I sat gazing upon her through the haze of my
+cigarette smoke, I fell to wondering, just as I had wondered during all
+those hours which had elapsed since I had scented that first whiff of
+Parfait d'Amour, with which her chiffons seemed impregnated.
+
+At last she put down her empty glass upon the bookshelf near her. Several
+books had been removed, leaving a vacant space.
+
+Mrs. Shand had already risen and bade me good-night; therefore, we were
+alone. So I rose from my chair and, bending over her, kissed her fondly
+upon the brow.
+
+No. I would believe her innocent. That white hand--the soft little hand I
+held in mine could never have taken a woman's life. I refused to believe
+it, and yet!
+
+Did she know more of Sir Digby Kemsley than she had admitted? Why had she
+gone to his flat at that hour, lurking upon the stairs until he should be
+alone, and, no doubt, in ignorance that I was his visitor?
+
+As I bent over her, stroking her soft hair with my hand, I tried to
+conjure up the scene which had taken place in Sir Digby's room--the
+tragedy which had caused my friend to flee and hide himself. Surely,
+something of a very terrible nature must have happened, or my
+friend--impostor or not--would have remained, faced the music, and told
+the truth.
+
+I knew Digby better than most men. The police had declared him to be an
+impostor; nevertheless, I still believed in him, even though he was now a
+fugitive. Edwards had laughed at my faith in the man who was my friend,
+but I felt within me a strong conviction that he was not so black as
+pigheaded officialdom had painted him.
+
+The Council of Seven at Scotland Yard might be a clever combination of
+expert brains, but they were not infallible, as had been proved so many
+times in the recent annals of London crime.
+
+Phrida had not referred to the tragedy, and I had not therefore mentioned
+it.
+
+My sole object at the moment was to obtain possession of the empty glass
+and carry it with me from the house.
+
+But how could I effect this without arousing her suspicion?
+
+She had risen and stood with her back to the blazing fire, her pretty
+lips parted in a sweet smile. We were discussing a play at which she had
+been on the previous evening, a comedy that had taken the town by storm.
+
+Her golden bangles jingled as she moved--that same light metallic sound I
+had heard in the darkness of the staircase at Harrington Gardens. My
+eager fingers itched to obtain possession of that glass which stood so
+tantalisingly within a couple of feet of my hand. By its means I could
+establish the truth.
+
+"Well, Teddy," my beloved said at last, as she glanced at the chiming
+clock upon the mantelshelf. "It's past eleven, so I suppose I must go to
+bed. Mallock is always in a bad temper if I keep her up after eleven."
+
+"I suppose that is only natural," I laughed. "She often waits hours and
+hours for you. That I know."
+
+"Yes," she sighed. "But Mallock is really a model maid. So much better
+than Rayne."
+
+Personally, I did not like the woman Mallock. She was a thin-nosed,
+angular person, who wore pince-nez, and was of a decidedly inquisitive
+disposition. But I, of course, had never shown any antagonism towards
+her; indeed, I considered it diplomatic to treat her with tact and
+consideration. She had been maid to the oldest daughter of a well-known
+and popular countess before entering Phrida's service, and I could well
+imagine that her principal topic of conversation in the servants' hall
+was the superiority of her late mistress, whose service she had left on
+her marriage to a wealthy peer.
+
+"I'm glad she is an improvement upon Rayne," I said, for want of
+something else to say, and, rising, I took her little hand and pressed it
+to my lips in farewell.
+
+When she had kissed me I said:
+
+"I'll just finish my cigarette, and I can let myself out."
+
+"Very well. But look in to-morrow, dear, won't you?" she replied, as I
+opened the door for her to pass. "Better still, I'll ring you up about
+three o'clock and see what you are doing. Oh! by the way, mother wants to
+remind you of your promise to dine with us on Wednesday night. I quite
+forgot. Of course you will--eight o'clock as usual."
+
+"Wednesday!" I exclaimed vaguely, recollecting the acceptance of Mrs.
+Shand's invitation about a week previously. "What date is that?"
+
+"Why, the fourteenth."
+
+"The fourteenth!" I echoed.
+
+"Yes, why? Really, you look quite scared, Freddy. What's the matter. Is
+anything terrible going to happen on that date?" she asked, looking at me
+with some concern.
+
+"Going to happen--why?" I asked, striving to calm myself.
+
+"Oh--well, because you look so horribly pale. When I told you the date
+you gave quite a jump!"
+
+"A jump? Did I?" I asked, striving to remain calm. "I didn't know, but,
+really, I'm filled with great disappointment. I'm so sorry, but it will
+be quite impossible for me to dine with you."
+
+"Another engagement?" she said in a rather irritated tone. "Going to some
+people whom you like better than us, of course. You might tell the truth,
+Teddy."
+
+"The truth is that I have a prior engagement," I said. "One that I cannot
+break. I have to fulfill faithfully a promise I gave to a very dear
+friend."
+
+"Couldn't you do it some other time?"
+
+"No," I answered. "Only on the evening of the fourteenth."
+
+"Then you can't come to us?" she asked with a pout.
+
+"I'll look in after," I promised. "But to dine is entirely out of the
+question."
+
+I saw that she was annoyed, but next moment her lips parted again in a
+pretty smile, and she said:
+
+"Very well, then. But remember, you will not be later than ten, will
+you?"
+
+"I promise not to be, dearest," I answered, and kissing her, she ascended
+to her room.
+
+The fourteenth! It was on that evening I had to carry out the promise
+made to Digby and meet the mysterious lady at the Piccadilly Circus Tube
+Station--the person whose initials were "E. P. K." and who would wear in
+her breast a spray of mimosa.
+
+I returned to the library, and for a second stood thinking deeply. Would
+I, by that romantic meeting, be placed in possession of some further fact
+which might throw light upon the mystery? Ah! would I, I wondered?
+
+The empty glass caught my eye, and I was about to cross and secure it
+when Bain suddenly entered. Seeing me, he drew back quickly, saying: "I
+beg pardon, sir. I thought you had gone. Will you take anything more,
+sir?"
+
+"No, not to-night, Bain," was my reply.
+
+Whereupon the old servant glanced around for the missing glass, and I saw
+with heart-sinking that he placed it upon the tray to carry it back to
+the servants' quarters.
+
+The link which I had been so careful in preparing was already vanishing
+from my gaze, when of a sudden I said:
+
+"I'll change my mind, Bain. I wonder if you have a lemon in the house?"
+
+"I'll go to the kitchen and see if cook has one, sir," replied the old
+man, who, placing down the tray, left to do my bidding.
+
+In an instant I sprang forward and seized the empty tumbler, handling it
+carefully. Swiftly, I tore a piece off the evening paper, and wrapping it
+around the glass, placed it in the pocket of my dinner jacket.
+
+Then, going into the hall, I put on my overcoat and hat, and awaited
+Bain's return.
+
+"I shan't want that lemon!" I cried to him as he came up from the lower
+regions. "Good-night, Bain!" and a few moments later I was in a taxi
+speeding towards Albemarle Street, with the evidence I wanted safe in my
+keeping.
+
+That finger-prints remained on the polished surface of the glass I knew
+full well--the prints of my beloved's fingers.
+
+But would they turn out to be the same as the fingers which had rested
+upon the glass-topped specimen-table in Digby's room?
+
+Opening the door with my latch-key, I dashed upstairs, eager to put my
+evidence to the proof by means of the finely-powdered green chalk I had
+already secured--the same as that used by the police.
+
+But on the threshold of my chambers Haines met me with a message--a
+message which caused me to halt breathless and staggered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+CONTAINS FURTHER EVIDENCE.
+
+
+"Sir Digby Kemsley was here an hour ago, sir. He couldn't wait!" Haines
+exclaimed, bringing himself to attention.
+
+"Sir Digby!" I gasped, starting. "Why, in heaven's name, didn't you ring
+me up at Mrs. Shand's?" I cried.
+
+"Because he wouldn't allow me, sir. He came to see you in strictest
+secrecy, sir. When I opened the door I didn't know him. He's shaved off
+his beard and moustache, and was dressed like a clergyman."
+
+"A clergyman!"
+
+"Yes, sir. He looked just like a parson. I wouldn't have known him in the
+street."
+
+"An excellent ruse!" I exclaimed. "Of course, Haines, you know
+that--well--that the police are looking for him--eh?"
+
+"Perfectly well, but you can trust me, sir. I'll say nothing. Sir Digby's
+a friend of yours."
+
+"Yes, a great friend, and I feel that he's falsely accused of that
+terrible affair which happened at his flat," I said. "Did he promise to
+call again?"
+
+"He scribbled this note for you," Haines said, taking up a letter from my
+blotting-pad.
+
+With trembling fingers I tore it open, and upon a sheet of my own
+notepaper read the hurriedly written words--
+
+    "Sorry you were out. Wanted to see you most urgently. Keep your
+    promise at Piccadilly Circus, and know nothing concerning me. My
+    movements are most uncertain, as something amazing has occurred
+    which prevents me making explanation. I will, however, send you
+    my address in secret as soon as I have one. I trust you, Teddy,
+    for you are my only friend.
+
+                                                          "Digby."
+
+I read the note several times, and gathered that he was in hourly fear of
+arrest. Every corner held for him a grave danger. Yet what could have
+occurred that was so amazing and which prevented him speaking the truth.
+
+That I had not been in when he called was truly unfortunate. But by the
+fact that he was in clerical attire I surmised that he was living in
+obscurity--perhaps somewhere in the suburbs. London is the safest city in
+the world in which to hide, unless, of course, creditors or plaintiffs
+make it necessary to seek peace "beyond the jurisdiction of the Court."
+
+Many a good man is driven to the latter course through no fault of his
+own, but by the inexorable demands of the Commissioners of Income Tax, or
+by undue pressure from antagonistic creditors. Every English colony on
+the Continent contains some who have fallen victims--good, honest
+Englishmen--who are dragging out the remainder of their lives in
+obscurity, men whose names are perhaps household words, but who conceal
+them beneath one assumed.
+
+Digby would probably join the throng of the exiled. So I could do naught
+else than wait for his promised message, even though I was frantic in my
+anxiety to see and to question him regarding the reason of the presence
+of my well-beloved at his flat on that fatal night.
+
+Imagine my bitter chagrin that I had not been present to receive him! It
+might be many months before I heard from him again, for his promise was
+surely very vague.
+
+Presently I took the glass very carefully from my pocket, unwrapped it
+from its paper, and locked it in a little cabinet in the corner of my
+room, until next morning I brought it forth, and placing it upon a
+newspaper powdered it well with the pale green chalk which revealed at
+once a number of finger-marks--mine, Bain's, and Phrida's.
+
+I am something of a photographer, as everybody is in these days of photo
+competitions. Therefore, I brought out my Kodak with its anastigmat
+lens,--a camera which I had carried for some years up and down Europe,
+and after considerable arrangement of the light, succeeded in taking a
+number of pictures. It occupied me all the morning, and even then I was
+not satisfied with the result. My films might, for aught I know, be
+hopelessly fogged.
+
+Therefore, with infinite care, I took the glass to a professional
+photographer I knew in Bond Street, and he also made a number of
+pictures, which were duly developed and enlarged some hours later, and
+showed the distinctive lines and curves of each finger-print.
+
+Not until the morning of the day following was I able to take these
+latter to Edwards, and then a great difficulty presented itself. How was
+I to explain how I had obtained the prints?
+
+I sat for an hour smoking cigarettes furiously and thinking deeply.
+
+At last a plan presented itself, and taking a taxi I went down to
+Scotland Yard, where I had no difficulty in obtaining an interview in his
+airy, barely-furnished business-like room.
+
+"Hulloa, Mr. Royle!" he exclaimed cheerily as I entered. "Sit down--well,
+do you know anything more of that mysterious friend of yours--eh?"
+
+I did not reply. Why should I lie? Instead, I said:
+
+"I've been doing some amateur detective work. Have you the photographs of
+those finger-prints found on the specimen-table in Sir Digby's room?"
+
+"Yes, of course," was his prompt reply, and going over to a cupboard he
+brought out a pile of papers concerning the case, and from it produced a
+number of photographic prints.
+
+My heart stood still when I saw them. Were either of them exactly similar
+to any of those I carried with me? I almost feared to allow comparison to
+be made.
+
+Edwards, noticing my hesitation, asked in what quarter my efforts had
+been directed.
+
+"I've been getting some finger-prints, that's all," I blurted forth, and
+from my pocket drew the large envelope containing the prints.
+
+The detective took them across to the window and regarded them very
+closely for some time, while I looked eagerly over his shoulder.
+
+The curves and lines were extremely puzzling to me, unaccustomed as I
+was to them. Edwards, too, remained in silent indecision.
+
+"We'll send them along to Inspector Tirrell in the Finger-print
+Department," my friend said at last. "He's an expert, and will tell at a
+glance if any marks are the same as ours."
+
+Then he rang a bell, and a constable, at his instructions, carried all
+the prints to the department in question.
+
+"Well, Mr. Royle," exclaimed the inspector when the door had closed; "how
+did you obtain those prints?"
+
+I was ready for his question, and a lie was at once glibly upon my lips.
+
+"Sir Digby, on the night of his disappearance, returned to me a small
+steel despatch box which he had borrowed some weeks before; therefore,
+after the affair, I examined it for finger-prints, with the result I have
+shown you," I said.
+
+"Ah! but whatever prints were upon it were there before the entrance of
+the victim to your friend's rooms," he exclaimed. "He gave it to you when
+you bade him good-night, I suppose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you carried the box home with you?"
+
+"Yes," I repeated; in fear nevertheless, that my lie might in some way
+incriminate me. Yet how could I tell him of my suspicion of Phrida. That
+secret was mine--and mine alone, and, if necessary, I would carry it with
+me to the grave.
+
+Edwards was again silent for some minutes.
+
+"No, Mr. Royle, I can't see that your evidence helps us in the least. If
+there should be the same prints on your despatch box as we found upon the
+specimen-table, then what do they prove?--why, nothing. If the box had
+been in the room at the time of the tragedy, then it might have given us
+an important clue, because such an object would probably be touched by
+any malefactor or assassin. But----"
+
+"Ah!" I cried, interrupting. "Then you do not suspect Sir Digby, after
+all--eh?"
+
+"Pardon me, Mr. Royle, but I did not say that I held no suspicion," was
+his quiet answer. "Yet, if you wish to know the actual truth, I, at
+present, am without suspicion of anyone--except of that second woman, the
+mysterious woman whose finger-prints we have, and who was apparently in
+the room at the same time as the unidentified victim."
+
+"You suspect her, then?" I asked breathlessly.
+
+"Not without further proof," he replied, with a calm, irritating smile.
+"I never suspect unless I have good grounds for doing so. At present we
+have three clear finger-prints of a woman whom nobody saw enter or leave,
+just as nobody saw the victim enter. Your friend Sir Digby seems to have
+held a midnight reception of persons of mysterious character, and with
+tragic result."
+
+"I feel sure he is no assassin," I cried.
+
+"It may have been a drama of jealousy--who knows?" said Edwards, standing
+erect near the window and gazing across at me. "Your friend, in any case,
+did not care to remain and explain what happened. A girl--an unknown
+girl--was struck down and killed."
+
+"By whom, do you think?"
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle, the identity of the assassin is what we are endeavouring
+to discover," he replied gravely. "We must first find this man who has so
+successfully posed as Sir Digby Kemsley. He is a clever and elusive
+scoundrel, without a doubt. But his portrait is already circulated both
+here and on the Continent. The ports are all being watched, while I have
+five of the best men I can get engaged on persistent inquiry. He'll try
+to get abroad, no doubt. No doubt, also, he has a banking account
+somewhere, and through that we shall eventually trace him. Every man
+entrusts his banker with his address. He has to, in order to obtain
+money."
+
+"Unless he draws his money out in cash and then goes to a tourist agency
+and gets a letter of credit."
+
+"Ah, yes, that's often done," my friend admitted. "The tourist agencies
+are of greatest use to thieves and forgers. They take stolen notes,
+change them into foreign money, and before the numbers can be circulated
+are off across the Channel with their booty. If we look for stolen notes
+we are nearly certain to find them in the hands of a tourist agency or a
+money-changer."
+
+"Then you anticipate that you may find my friend Digby through his
+bankers?"
+
+"Perhaps," was his vague answer. "But as he is your friend, Mr. Royle, I
+perhaps ought not to tell you of the channels of information we are
+trying," he added, with a dry laugh.
+
+"Oh, I assure you I'm entirely ignorant of his whereabouts," I said. "If
+I knew, I should certainly advise him to come and see you."
+
+"Ah! you believe in his innocence, I see?"
+
+"I most certainly do!"
+
+"Well,--we shall see--we shall see," he said in that pessimistic tone
+which he so often adopted.
+
+"What are you doing about those letters--that letter which mentions the
+fountain?" I asked.
+
+"Nothing. I've dismissed those as private correspondence regarding some
+love episode of the long ago," he replied. "They form no clue, and are
+not worth following."
+
+At that moment the constable re-entered bearing the photographs.
+
+"Well, what does Inspector Tirrell say?" Edwards asked quickly of the
+man.
+
+"He has examined them under the glass, sir, and says that they are the
+same prints in both sets of photographs--the thumb and index-finger of a
+woman--probably a young and refined woman. He's written a memo there,
+sir."
+
+Edwards took it quickly, and after glancing at it, handed it to me to
+read.
+
+It was a mere scribbled line signed with the initials "W. H. T.," to the
+effect that the same prints appeared in both photographs, and concluded
+with the words "No record of this person is known in this department."
+
+I know I stood pale and breathless at the revelation--at the
+incontestable proof that my well-beloved had actually been present in
+Digby's room after my departure on that fatal night.
+
+Why?
+
+By dint of a great effort I succeeded in suppressing the flood of
+emotions which so nearly overcame me, and listened to Edwards as he
+remarked:
+
+"Well, after all, Mr. Royle, it doesn't carry us any further. Our one
+object is to discover the identity of the woman in question, and I think
+we can only do that from your absconding friend himself. If the marks are
+upon your despatch-box as you state, then the evidence it furnishes
+rather disproves the theory that the unknown woman was actually present
+at the time of the tragedy."
+
+I hardly know what words I uttered.
+
+I had successfully misled the great detective of crime, but as I rode
+along in the taxi back to my rooms, I was in a frenzy of despair, for I
+had proved beyond a shadow of doubt that Phrida was aware of what had
+occurred--that a black shadow of guilt lay upon her.
+
+The woman I had loved and trusted, she who was all the world to me, had
+deceived me, though she smiled upon me so sweetly. She, alas! held within
+her breast a guilty secret.
+
+Ah! in that hour of my bitterness and distress the sun of my life became
+eclipsed. Only before me was outspread a limitless grey sea of dark
+despair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+DESCRIBES THE YELLOW SIGN.
+
+
+The night of my mysterious tryst--the night of January the
+fourteenth--was dark, rainy, and unpleasant.
+
+That afternoon I had taken out the sealed letter addressed to "E. P. K."
+and turned it over thoughtfully in my hand.
+
+I recollected the words of the fugitive. He had said:
+
+"On the night of the fourteenth just at eight o'clock precisely, go to
+the Piccadilly Tube Station and stand at the first telephone box numbered
+four, on the Haymarket side, when a lady in black will approach you and
+ask news of me. In response you will give her this note. But there is a
+further condition. You may be watched and recognised. Therefore, be
+extremely careful that you are not followed on that day, and, above all,
+adopt some effective disguise. Go there dressed as a working man, I would
+suggest."
+
+Very strange was that request of his. It filled me with eager curiosity.
+What should I learn from the mysterious woman in black who was to come to
+me for a message from my fugitive friend.
+
+Had he already contemplated flight when he had addressed the note to her
+and made the appointment, I wondered.
+
+If so, the crime at Harrington Gardens must have been premeditated.
+
+I recollected, too, those strange, prophetic words which my friend had
+afterwards uttered, namely:
+
+"I want you to give me your promise, Royle. I ask you to make a solemn
+vow to me that if any suspicion arises within your mind, that you will
+believe nothing without absolute and decisive proof. I mean, that you
+will not misjudge her."
+
+By "her" he had indicated the lady whose initials were "E. P. K."
+
+It was certainly mysterious, and my whole mind was centred upon the
+affair that day.
+
+As I stood before my glass at seven o'clock that evening, I presented a
+strange, uncanny figure, dressed as I was in a shabby suit which I had
+obtained during the day from a theatrical costumier's in Covent Garden.
+
+Haines, to whom I had invented a story that I was about to play a
+practical joke, stood by much amused at my appearance.
+
+"Well, sir," he exclaimed; "you look just like a bricklayer's labourer!"
+
+The faded suit, frayed at the wrists and elbows, had once been grey, but
+it was now patched, brown, smeared with plaster, and ingrained with white
+dust, as was the ragged cap; while the trousers were ragged at the knees
+and bottoms. Around my neck was a dirty white scarf and in my hand I
+carried a tin tea-bottle as though I had just returned from work.
+
+"Yes," I remarked, regarding myself critically. "Not even Miss Shand
+would recognise me--eh, Haines?"
+
+"No, sir. I'm sure she wouldn't. But you'll have to dirty your face and
+hands a bit. Your hands will give you away if you're not careful."
+
+"Yes. I can't wear gloves, can I?" I remarked.
+
+Thereupon, I went to the grate and succeeded in rubbing ashes over my
+hands and applying some of it to my cheeks--hardly a pleasant face
+powder, I can assure you.
+
+At a quarter to eight, with the precious letter in the pocket of my
+ragged jacket, I left Albemarle Street and sauntered along Piccadilly
+towards the Circus. The rain had ceased, but it was wet underfoot, and
+the motor buses plashed foot passengers from head to foot with liquid
+mud. In my walk I passed, outside the Piccadilly Hotel, two men I knew.
+One of them looked me straight in the face but failed to recognise me.
+
+Piccadilly Circus, the centre of the night-life of London, is unique,
+with its jostling crowds on pleasure bent, its congestion of traffic, its
+myriad lights, its flashing, illuminated signs, and the bright façade of
+the Criterion on the one side and the Pavilion on the other. Surely one
+sees the lure of London there more than at any other spot in the whole of
+our great metropolis.
+
+Passing the Criterion and turning into the Haymarket, I halted for a
+moment on the kerb, and for the first time in my life, perhaps, gazed
+philosophically upon the frantic, hurrying panorama of human life passing
+before my eyes.
+
+From where I stood I could see into the well-lit station entrance with
+the row to the telephone boxes, at the end of which sat the smart young
+operator, who was getting numbers and collecting fees. All the boxes
+were engaged, and several persons were waiting, but in vain my eyes
+searched for a lady in black wearing mimosa.
+
+The winter wind was bitterly cold, and as I was without an overcoat it
+cut through my thin, shabby clothes, causing me to shiver. Nevertheless,
+I kept my watchful vigil. By a neighbouring clock I could see that it was
+already five minutes past the hour of the appointment. Still, I waited in
+eager expectation of her coming.
+
+The only other person who seemed to loiter there was a thin, shivering
+Oriental, who bore some rugs upon his shoulder--a hawker of shawls.
+
+Past me there went men and women of every grade and every station. Boys
+were crying "Extrur spe-shull," and evil-looking loafers, those foreign
+scoundrels who infest the West End, lurked about, sometimes casting a
+suspicious glance at me, with the thought, perhaps, that I might be a
+detective.
+
+Ah! the phantasmagora of life outside the Piccadilly Tube at eight
+o'clock in the evening is indeed a strangely complex one. The world of
+London has then ceased to work and has given itself over to pleasure,
+and, alas! in so many cases, to evil.
+
+In patience I waited. The moments seemed hours, for in my suspense I was
+dubious whether, after all, she would appear. Perhaps she already knew,
+by some secret means, of Sir Digby's flight, and if so, she would not
+keep the appointment.
+
+I strolled up and down the pavement, for a policeman, noticing me hanging
+about, had gruffly ordered me to "Move on!" He, perhaps, suspected me of
+"loitering for the purpose of committing a felony."
+
+Everywhere my eager eyes searched to catch sight of some person in black
+wearing a spray of yellow blossom, but among that hurrying crowd there
+was not one woman, young or old, wearing that flower so reminiscent of
+the Riviera.
+
+I entered the station, and for some moments stood outside the telephone
+box numbered 4. Then, with failing heart, I turned and went along to the
+spacious booking-hall, where the lifts were ever descending with their
+crowds of passengers.
+
+Would she ever come? Or, was my carefully planned errand entirely in
+vain?
+
+I could not have mistaken the date, for I had made a note of it in my
+diary directly on my return from Harrington Gardens, and before I had
+learned of the tragedy. No. It now wanted a quarter to nine and she had
+not appeared. At nine I would relinquish my vigil, and assume my normal
+identity. I was sick to death of lounging there in the cutting east wind
+with the smoke-blackened tin bottle in my hand.
+
+I had been idly reading an advertisement on the wall, and turned, when my
+quick eyes suddenly caught sight of a tall, well-dressed woman of middle
+age, who, standing with her back to me, was speaking to the
+telephone-operator.
+
+I hurried eagerly past her, when my heart gave a great bound. In the
+corsage of her fur-trimmed coat she wore the sign for which I had been
+searching for an hour--a sprig of mimosa!
+
+With my heart beating quickly in wild excitement, I drew back to watch
+her movements.
+
+She had asked the operator for a number, paid him, and was told that she
+was "on" at box No. 4.
+
+I saw her enter, and watched her through the glass door speaking
+vehemently with some gesticulation. The answer she received over the wire
+seemed to cause her the greatest surprise, for I saw how her dark,
+handsome face fell when she heard the response.
+
+In a second her manner changed. From a bold, commanding attitude she at
+once became apprehensive and appealing. Though I could not hear the words
+amid all that hubbub and noise, I knew that she was begging the person at
+the other end to tell her something, but was being met with a flat
+refusal.
+
+I saw how the black-gloved hand, resting upon the little ledge, clenched
+itself tightly as she listened. I fancied that tears had come into her
+big, dark eyes, but perhaps it was only my imagination.
+
+At last she put down the receiver and emerged from the box, with a
+strange look of despair upon her handsome countenance.
+
+What, I wondered, had happened?
+
+She halted outside the box for a moment, gazing about her as though in
+expectation of meeting someone. She saw me, but seeing only a labourer,
+took no heed of my presence. Then she glanced at the tiny gold watch in
+her bracelet, and noting that it was just upon nine, drew a long
+breath--a sigh as though of despair.
+
+I waited until she slowly walked out towards the street, and following,
+came up beside her and said in a low voice:
+
+"I wonder, madame, if you are looking for me?"
+
+She glanced at me quickly, with distinct suspicion, and noting my dress,
+regarded me with some disdain.
+
+Her dark brows were knit for a second in distinct displeasure, even of
+apprehension, and then in an instant I recollected my friend's injunction
+that I might be watched and followed. In giving her the message the
+greatest secrecy was to be observed.
+
+She halted, as though in hesitation, took from her bag a tiny lace
+handkerchief and dabbed her face, then beneath her breath, and without
+glancing further at me, said:
+
+"Follow me, and I will speak to you presently--when there is no danger."
+
+Upon that I moved away and leisurely lit my pipe, as though entirely
+unconcerned, while she still stood in the doorway leading to the
+Haymarket, looking up and down as though awaiting somebody.
+
+Yes, she was a distinctly handsome woman; tall, erect, and well
+preserved. Her gown fitted her perfectly, and her black jacket, trimmed
+with some rich dark fur, was a garment which gave her the stamp of a
+woman of wealth and refinement. She wore a neat felt hat also trimmed
+with fur, white gloves, and smart shoes, extremely small, even girlish,
+for a woman so well developed.
+
+Presently she sauntered forth down the Haymarket, and a few moments
+afterwards, still smoking and carrying my bottle, I lounged lazily after
+her.
+
+At the corner, by the Carlton, she turned into Pall Mall, continuing
+along that thoroughfare without once looking back. Opposite the United
+Service Club she crossed the road, and passing across the square in
+front of the Athenæum, descended the long flight of steps which led into
+the Mall.
+
+There in the darkness, beneath the trees, where there were no
+onlookers--for at that hour the Mall is practically deserted, save for a
+few loving couples and a stray taxi or two--she suddenly paused, and I
+quickly approached and raised my cap politely.
+
+"Well?" she asked sharply, almost in a tone of annoyance. "What is it?
+What do you want with me, my man?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+CHERCHEZ LA FEMME.
+
+
+I confess that her attitude took me aback.
+
+I was certainly unprepared for such a reception.
+
+"I believed, madame, that you were in search of me?" I said, with polite
+apology.
+
+"I certainly was not. I don't know you in the least," was her reply. "I
+went to the Tube to meet a friend who did not keep his appointment. Is it
+possible that you have been sent by him? In any case, it was very
+injudicious for you to approach me in that crowd. One never knows who
+might have been watching."
+
+"I come as messenger from my friend, Sir Digby Kemsley," I said in a low
+voice.
+
+"From him?" she gasped eagerly. "I--ah! I expected him. Is he prevented
+from coming? It was so very important, so highly essential, that we
+should meet," she added in frantic anxiety as we stood there in the
+darkness beneath the bare trees, through the branches of which the wind
+whistled weirdly.
+
+"I have this letter," I said, drawing it from my pocket. "It is addressed
+'For E. P. K.'"
+
+"For me?" she cried with eagerness, as she took it in her gloved hand,
+and then leaving my side she hurried to a street lamp, where she tore it
+open and read the contents.
+
+From where I stood I heard her utter an ejaculation of sudden terror. I
+saw how she crushed the paper in one hand while with the other she
+pressed her brow. Whatever the letter contained it was news which caused
+her the greatest apprehension and fear, for dashing back to me she asked:
+
+"When did he give you this? How long ago?"
+
+"On the night of January the sixth," was my reply. "The night when he
+left Harrington Gardens in mysterious circumstances."
+
+"Mysterious circumstances!" she echoed. "What do you mean? Is he no
+longer there?"
+
+"No, madame. He has left, and though I am, perhaps, his most intimate
+friend, I am unaware of his whereabouts. There were," I added, "reasons,
+I fear, for his disappearance."
+
+"Who are you? Tell me, first."
+
+"My name is Edward Royle," was my brief response.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle," the woman cried, "he has spoken of you many times. You
+were his best friend, he said. I am glad, indeed, to meet you, but--but
+tell me why he has disappeared--what has occurred?"
+
+"I thought you would probably know that my friend is wanted by the
+police," I replied gravely. "His description has been circulated
+everywhere."
+
+"But why?" she gasped, staring at me. "Why are the police in search of
+him?"
+
+For a few seconds I hesitated, disinclined to repeat the grave charge
+against him.
+
+"Well," I said at last in a low, earnest voice, "the fact is the police
+have discovered that Sir Digby Kemsley died in South America some months
+ago."
+
+"I don't follow you," she said.
+
+"Then I will be more plain. The police, having had a report of the death
+of Sir Digby, believe our mutual friend to be an impostor!"
+
+"An impostor! How utterly ridiculous. Why, I myself can prove his
+identity. The dead man must have been some adventurer who used his name."
+
+"That is a point which I hope with your assistance to prove," I said.
+"The police at present regard our friend with distinct suspicion."
+
+"And I suppose his worst enemy has made some serious allegation against
+him--that woman who hates him so. Ah! I see it all now. I see why he has
+written this to me--this confession which astounds me. Ah! Mr. Royle,"
+she added, her gloved hands tightly clenched in her despair. "You do not
+know in what deadly peril Sir Digby now is. Yes, I see it plainly. There
+is a charge against him--a grave and terrible charge--which he is unable
+to refute, and yet he is perfectly innocent. Oh, what can I do? How can I
+act to save him?" and her voice became broken by emotion.
+
+"First tell me the name of this woman who was such a deadly enemy of his.
+If you reveal this to me, I may be able to throw some light upon
+circumstances which are at the present moment a complete mystery."
+
+"No, that is his secret," was her low, calm reply. "He made me swear
+never to reveal the woman's name."
+
+"But his honour--nay, his liberty--is now at stake," I urged.
+
+"That does not exonerate me from breaking my word of honour, Mr. Royle."
+
+"Then he probably entertains affection for the woman, and is hence loth
+to do anything which might cause her pain. Strangely enough, men often
+love women whom they know are their bitterest enemies."
+
+"Quite so. But the present case is full of strange and romantic
+facts--facts, which if written down, would never be believed. I know many
+of them myself, and can vouch for them."
+
+"Well, is this unnamed woman a very vengeful person?" I asked,
+remembering the victim who had been found dead at Harrington Gardens.
+
+"Probably so. All women, when they hate a man, are vengeful."
+
+"Why did she hate him so?"
+
+"Because she believed a story told of him--an entirely false story--of
+how he had treated the man she loved. I taxed him with it, and he denied
+it, and brought me conclusive proof that the allegation was a pure
+invention."
+
+"Is she young or middle-aged?"
+
+"Young, and distinctly pretty," was her reply.
+
+Was it possible that this woman was speaking of that girl whom I had seen
+lying dead in my friend's flat? Had he killed her because he feared what
+she might reveal? How dearly I wished that I had with me at that moment a
+copy of the police photographs of the unidentified body.
+
+But even then she would probably declare it not to be the same person,
+so deeply had Sir Digby impressed upon her the necessity of regarding the
+affair as strictly secret.
+
+Indeed, as I walked slowly at her side, I saw that, whatever the note
+contained, it certainly had the effect upon her of preserving her
+silence.
+
+In that case, could the crime have been premeditated by my friend? Had he
+written her that secret message well knowing that he intended to kill the
+mysterious woman who was his deadliest enemy.
+
+That theory flashed across my brain as I walked with her, and I believed
+it to be the correct one. I accepted it the more readily because it
+removed from my mind those dark suspicions concerning Phrida, and, also,
+in face of facts which this unknown lady had dropped, it seemed to be
+entirely feasible.
+
+Either the unsuspecting woman fell by the hand of Digby Kemsley or--how
+can I pen the words--by the hand of Phrida, the woman I loved. There was
+the evidence that a knife with a triangular blade had been used, and such
+a knife had been, and was still, in the possession of my well-beloved;
+but from what I had learned that night it seemed that, little as I had
+dreamed the truth, my friend Digby had been held in bondage by a woman,
+whose tongue he feared.
+
+Ah! How very many men in London are the slaves of women whom they fear.
+All of us are human, and the woman with evil heart is, alas! only too
+ready to seize the opportunity of the frailty of the opposite sex, and
+whatever may be the secret she learns, of business or of private life,
+she will most certainly turn it to her advantage.
+
+It was similar circumstances I feared in the case of dear old Digby.
+
+I was wondering, as I walked, whether I should reveal to my
+companion--whose name she had told me was Mrs. Petre--the whole of the
+tragic circumstances.
+
+"Is it long ago since you last saw Digby?" I asked her presently, as we
+strolled slowly together, and after I had given her my address, and we
+had laughed together over my effective disguise.
+
+"Nearly two months," she replied. "I've been in Egypt since the beginning
+of November--at Assuan."
+
+"I was there two seasons ago," I said. "How delightful it is in Upper
+Egypt--and what a climate in winter! Why, it is said that it has never
+rained there for thirty years!"
+
+"I had a most awfully jolly time at the Cataract. It was full of smart
+people, for only the suburbs, the demi-monde, and Germans go to the
+Riviera nowadays. It's so terribly played out, and the Carnival gaiety is
+so childish and artificial."
+
+"It amuses the Cookites," I laughed; "and it puts money in the pockets of
+the hotel-keepers of Nice and the neighbourhood."
+
+"Monte is no longer _chic_," she declared. "German women in blouses
+predominate; and the really smart world has forsaken the Rooms for Cairo,
+Heliopolis, and Assuan. They are too far off and too expensive for the
+bearer of Cook's coupons."
+
+I laughed. She spoke with the nonchalant air of the smart woman of the
+world, evidently much travelled and cosmopolitan.
+
+But I again turned the conversation to our mutual friend, and strove
+with all the diplomatic powers I possessed to induce her to reveal the
+name or give me a description of the woman whom she had alleged to be his
+enemy--the woman who was under a delusion that he had wronged her lover.
+To all my questions, however, she remained dumb. That letter which I had
+placed in her hand had, no doubt, put a seal of silence upon her lips.
+
+At one moment she assumed a haughtiness of demeanour which suited her
+manner and bearing, at the next she became sympathetic and eager. She
+was, I gauged, a woman of strangely complex character. Yet whom could she
+be? I knew most, perhaps even all, of Digby's friends, I believed. He
+often used to give cosy little tea parties, to which women--many of them
+well known in society--came. Towards them he always assumed quite a
+paternal attitude, for he was nothing if not a ladies' man.
+
+She seemed very anxious to know in what circumstances he had handed me
+the note, and what instructions he had given me. To her questions I
+replied quite frankly. Indeed, I repeated his words.
+
+"Ah! yes," she cried. "He urged you not to misjudge me. Then you will
+not, Mr. Royle--will you?" she asked me with sudden earnestness.
+
+"I have no reason to misjudge you, Mrs. Petre," I said, quietly. "Why
+should I?"
+
+"Ah! but you may. Indeed, you most certainly will."
+
+"When?" I asked, in some surprise.
+
+"When--when you know the bitter truth."
+
+"The truth of what?" I gasped, my thoughts reverting to the tragedy in
+Harrington Gardens. Though I had not referred to it I felt that she must
+be aware of what had occurred, and of the real reason of Digby's flight.
+
+"The truth which you must know ere long," she answered hoarsely as we
+halted again beneath the leafless trees. "And when you learn it you will
+most certainly condemn me. But believe me, Mr. Royle, I am like your
+friend, Sir Digby, more sinned against than sinning."
+
+"You speak in enigmas," I said.
+
+"Because I cannot--I dare not tell you what I know. I dare not reveal the
+terrible and astounding secret entrusted to me. You will know it all soon
+enough. But--there," she added in a voice broken in despair, "what can
+matter now that Digby has shown the white feather--and fled."
+
+"He was not a coward, Mrs. Petre," I remarked very calmly.
+
+"No. He was a brave and honest man until----" and she paused, her low
+voice fading to a whisper that I did not catch.
+
+"Until what?" I asked. "Did something happen?"
+
+"Yes, it did," she replied in a hard, dry tone. "Something happened which
+changed his life."
+
+"Then he is not the impostor the police believe?" I demanded.
+
+"Certainly not," was her prompt reply. "Why he has thought fit to
+disappear fills me with anger. And yet--yet from this letter he has sent
+to me I can now see the reason. He was, no doubt, compelled to fly, poor
+fellow. His enemy forced him to do so."
+
+"The woman--eh?"
+
+"Yes, the woman," she admitted, bitter hatred in her voice.
+
+Then, after a pause, I said: "If I can be of any service to you, Mrs.
+Petre, for we are both friends of Digby's, I trust you will not fail to
+command me."
+
+And I handed her a card from my case, which I had carried expressly.
+
+"You are very kind, Mr. Royle," she replied. "Perhaps I may be very glad
+of your services one day. Who knows? I live at Park Mansions."
+
+"And may I call?"
+
+"For the present, no. I let my flat while I went abroad, and it is still
+occupied for several weeks. I shall not be there before the first week in
+March."
+
+"But I want to find Digby--I want to see him most urgently," I said.
+
+"And so do I!"
+
+"How can we trace him?" I asked.
+
+"Ah! I am afraid he is far too elusive. If he wishes to hide himself we
+need not hope to find him until he allows us to," she replied. "No, all
+we can do is to remain patient and hopeful."
+
+Again a silence fell between us. I felt instinctively that she wished to
+confide in me, but dare not do so.
+
+Therefore I exclaimed suddenly:
+
+"Will you not tell me, Mrs. Petre, the identity of this great enemy of
+our friend--this woman? Upon information which you yourself may give,
+Digby's future entirely depends," I added earnestly.
+
+"His future!" she echoed. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean only that I am trying to clear his good name of the stigma now
+resting upon it."
+
+The handsome woman bit her lip.
+
+"No," she replied with a great effort. "I'm sorry--deeply sorry--but I am
+now in a most embarrassing position. I have made a vow to him, and that
+vow I cannot break without first obtaining his permission. I am upon my
+honour."
+
+I was silent. What could I say?
+
+This woman certainly knew something--something which, if revealed, would
+place me in possession of the truth of what had actually occurred at
+Harrington Gardens on that fatal night. If she spoke she might clear
+Phrida of all suspicion.
+
+Suddenly, after a pause, I made up my mind to try and clear up one
+point--that serious, crucial point which had for days so obsessed me.
+
+"Mrs. Petre," I said, "I wonder if you will answer me a single question,
+one which does not really affect the situation much. Indeed, as we are, I
+hope, friends, I ask it more out of curiosity than anything else."
+
+"Well, what is it?" she asked, regarding me strangely.
+
+"I want to know whether, being a friend of Digby's, you have ever met or
+ever heard of a certain young lady living in Kensington named Phrida
+Shand."
+
+The effect of my words was almost electrical. She sprung towards me, with
+fire in her big, dark eyes.
+
+"Phrida Shand!" she cried wildly, her white-gloved hands again clenched.
+"Phrida Shand! You know that woman, eh? You know her, Mr. Royle. Is she a
+friend of yours?--or--or is she your enemy? Your friend, perhaps,
+because she is pretty. Oh, yes!" she laughed, hysterically. "Oh, yes! Of
+course, she is your friend. If she is--then curse her, Mr. Royle--invoke
+all the curses of hell upon her, as she so richly deserves!"
+
+And from her lips came a peal of laughter that was little short of
+demoniacal, while I stood glaring at her in blank dismay.
+
+What did she mean? Aye, what, indeed?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+IN WHICH AN ALLEGATION IS MADE.
+
+
+I stood aghast at her words.
+
+I strove to induce her to speak more openly, and to tell me why I should
+not regard Phrida as my friend.
+
+But she only laughed mysteriously, saying:
+
+"Wait, and you will see."
+
+"You make a distinct charge against her, therefore I think you ought to
+substantiate it," I said in a tone of distinct annoyance.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle. Heed my words, I beg of you."
+
+"But, tell me, is Miss Shand the same person as you have denounced as
+Digby's enemy?" I asked in breathless apprehension. "Surely you will tell
+me, Mrs. Petre, now that we are friends."
+
+"Ah! but are we friends?" she asked, looking at me strangely beneath the
+light of the street-lamp in that deserted thoroughfare, where all was
+silence save the distant hum of the traffic. The dark trees above stood
+out distinct against the dull red night-glare of London, as the
+mysterious woman stood before me uttering that query.
+
+"Because we are mutual friends of Sir Digby's. I hope I may call you a
+friend," I replied, as calmly as I was able.
+
+She paused for a moment in indecision. Then she said:
+
+"You admit that you are friendly with the girl Shand--eh?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"More than friendly, I wonder?" she asked in a sharp tone.
+
+"Well--I'll be perfectly frank," was my answer. "I am engaged to be
+married to her."
+
+"Married," she gasped, "to her! Are you mad, Mr. Royle?"
+
+"I think not," I answered, greatly surprised at her sudden attitude.
+"Why?"
+
+"Because--because," she replied in a low, earnest voice, scarce above a
+whisper, "because, before you take such a step make further inquiry."
+
+"Inquiry about what?" I demanded.
+
+"About--well, about what has occurred at Harrington Gardens."
+
+"Then you know!" I cried. "You know the truth, Mrs. Petre?"
+
+"No," she replied quite calmly. "I know from this letter what must have
+occurred there. But who killed the girl I cannot say."
+
+"Who was the girl they found dead?" I asked breathlessly.
+
+"Ah! How can I tell? I did not see her."
+
+In a few quick words I described the deceased, but either she did not
+recognise her from the description, or she refused to tell me. In any
+case, she declared herself in ignorance.
+
+The situation was galling and tantalising. I was so near discovering the
+truth, and yet my inquiries had only plunged me more deeply into a
+quagmire of suspicion and horror. The more I tried to extricate myself
+the deeper I sank.
+
+"But whoever the poor girl may have been, you still maintain that Phrida
+Shand was Digby's most deadly enemy?" I asked quickly, setting a trap for
+her.
+
+I took her unawares, and she fell into it.
+
+"Yes," was her prompt response. An instant later, however, realising how
+she had been led to make an allegation which she had not intended, she
+hastened to correct herself, saying: "Ah, no! Of course, I do not allege
+that. I--I only know that Digby was acquainted with her, and that----"
+
+"Well?" I asked slowly, when she paused.
+
+"That--that he regretted the acquaintanceship."
+
+"Regretted? Why?"
+
+The woman shrugged her shoulders. All along she had been cognisant of the
+tragedy, yet with her innate cleverness she had not admitted her
+knowledge.
+
+"A man often regrets his friendship with a woman," she said, with a
+mysterious air.
+
+"What!" I cried fiercely. "Do you make an insinuation that----"
+
+"My dear Mr. Royle," she laughed, "I make no insinuation. It was you who
+have endeavoured to compel me to condemn her as Digby's enemy. You
+yourself suggested it!"
+
+"But you have told me that his fiercest and most bitter enemy was a
+woman!"
+
+"Certainly. But I have not told you that woman's name, nor do I intend to
+break my vow of secrecy to Digby--fugitive that he may be at this moment.
+Yet, depend upon it, he will return and crush his enemies in the dust."
+
+"I hope he will," was my fervent reply. "Yet I love Phrida Shand, and
+upon her there rests a terrible cloud of suspicion."
+
+She was silent for a moment, still standing beneath the lamp, gazing at
+me with those big, dark eyes.
+
+At last she said:
+
+"The way out is quite easy."
+
+"How?"
+
+"If you have any regard for your future put your love aside," was her
+hard response.
+
+"You hate her!" I said, knitting my brows, yet recollecting the proof I
+had secured of her presence in Digby's flat.
+
+"Yes," was her prompt response. "I hate her--I have cause to hate her!"
+
+"What cause?"
+
+"That is my own affair, Mr. Royle--my own secret. Find Digby, and he
+will, no doubt, tell you the truth."
+
+"The truth concerning Phrida?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But he knew I was engaged to her! Why did he not speak?"
+
+"And expose her secret?" she asked. "Would he have acted as a gentleman
+had he done so? Does a man so lightly betray a woman's honour?"
+
+"A woman's honour!" I gasped, staring at her, staggered as though she
+had struck me a blow. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean nothing," was her cold reply. "Take it as you may, Mr. Royle,
+only be warned."
+
+"But if Digby knew that she was worthless, he would surely have made some
+remark to arouse my suspicion?" I exclaimed.
+
+"Why should he?" she queried. "A true gentleman does not usually expose a
+woman's secret."
+
+I saw her point, and my heart sank within me. Were these scandalous
+allegations of hers based upon truth, or was she actuated by ill-feeling,
+perhaps, indeed, of jealousy?
+
+We walked on again slowly until we reached St. James's Palace, and passed
+out into the end of Pall Mall, where it joined St. James's Street. Yet
+her attitude was one of complete mystery. I was uncertain whether the
+admission she had so unconsciously made regarding Phrida--that she was
+Digby's worst enemy--was the actual truth or not.
+
+One thing was plain. This Mrs. Petre was a clever, far-seeing woman of
+the world, who had with great ingenuity held from me her knowledge of the
+crime.
+
+A problem was, therefore, presented to me. By what means could she be
+aware of it? First, she had expected to meet Digby that evening;
+secondly, the letter I had brought was written before the assassination
+of the unknown girl.
+
+How could she have obtained knowledge of the affair if it were not
+premeditated and hinted at in the letter I had so faithfully delivered?
+
+Half way up St. James's Street my companion suddenly exclaimed:
+
+"I must be going! Would you please hail me a taxi, Mr. Royle?"
+
+"I will--when you have answered my question," I said, with great
+politeness.
+
+"I have already replied to it," was her response. "You love Phrida Shand,
+but if you have any self-respect, any regard for your future, break off
+Whatever infatuation she has exercised over you. If you are Digby's
+friend, you will be a man, and act as such!"
+
+"I really don't follow you," I said, bewildered.
+
+"Perhaps not. But surely my words are plain enough!"
+
+"Is she the enemy of Digby, of whom you have spoken?"
+
+"That question I am not permitted to answer."
+
+I was silent a few seconds. Then I asked earnestly:
+
+"Tell me openly and frankly, Mrs. Petre. Is she the person you suspect of
+having committed the crime?"
+
+She gave vent to a short dry laugh.
+
+"Really, Mr. Royle," she exclaimed, "you put to me the most difficult
+riddles. How can I possibly suspect anyone of a crime of which I know
+nothing, and of which even the papers appear to be in ignorance?"
+
+"But you are not in ignorance," I said. "How, pray, did you learn that a
+tragedy had occurred?"
+
+"Ah!" she laughed. "That is my secret. You were very careful not to tell
+me the true cause of poor Digby's flight. Yes, Mr. Royle, I congratulate
+you upon your ingenuity in protecting the honour of your friend. Rest
+assured he will not forget the great services you have already rendered
+him."
+
+"I look for no reward. He was my friend," was my reply.
+
+"Then, if he was your friend and you are still his, heed my warning
+concerning Phrida Shand."
+
+"But tell me what you know?" I cried, clutching her arm as we walked
+together. "You don't understand that you are making allegations--terrible
+allegations--against the woman I love dearest in all the world. You have
+made an assertion, and I demand that you shall substantiate it," I added
+in frantic anxiety.
+
+She shook off my hand angrily, declaring that nothing more need be said,
+and adding that if I refused to heed her, then the peril would be mine.
+
+"But you shall not leave me until you have furnished me with proof of
+these perfidious actions of my love!" I declared vehemently.
+
+"Mr. Royle, we really cannot use high words in the public street," she
+replied in a low tone of reproof. "I am sorry that I am not permitted to
+say more."
+
+"But you shall!" I persisted. "Tell me--what do you know? Is Digby the
+real Sir Digby?"
+
+"Of course he is!"
+
+"And what are his exact relations with Phrida?"
+
+"Ah!" she laughed. "You had better ask her yourself, Mr. Royle. She will,
+no doubt, tell you. Of course, she will--well, if you are to marry her.
+But there, I see that you are not quite responsible for your words this
+evening. It is, perhaps, natural in the circumstances; therefore I will
+forgive you."
+
+"Natural!" I echoed. "I should think it is natural that I should resent
+such dastardly allegations when made against the woman I love."
+
+"All I repeat is--go and ask her for yourself," was the woman's quiet
+response as she drew herself up, and pulled her fur more closely about
+her throat. "I really can't be seen here talking with you in that garb,"
+she added.
+
+"But you must tell me," I persisted.
+
+"I can tell you no more than I have done. The girl you love will tell you
+everything, or--at least, if you have a grain of ingenuity, as you no
+doubt have--you will find out everything for yourself."
+
+"Ah! but----"
+
+"No, not another word, please, Mr. Royle--not to-night. If after making
+inquiry into the matter you care to come and see me when I am back in
+Park Mansions, I shall be very happy to receive you. By that time,
+however, I hope we shall have had news of poor Digby's whereabouts."
+
+"If I hear from him--as I expect to--how can I communicate with you?" I
+asked.
+
+For a few seconds she stood wondering.
+
+"Write to me to Park Mansions," she replied. "My letters are always
+forwarded."
+
+And raising her umbrella she herself hailed a passing taxi.
+
+"Remember my warning," were her final words as she gave the man an
+address in Regent's Park, and entered the conveyance. "Go and see Phrida
+Shand at once and tell her what I have said."
+
+"May I mention your name?" I asked hoarsely.
+
+"Yes," she replied. "Good-night."
+
+And a moment later I was gazing at the red back-lamp of the taxi, while
+soon afterwards I again caught a glimpse of the same lonely seller of
+shawls whom I had seen at the Tube station, trudging wearily homeward,
+there being no business doing at that hour of the evening.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+PHRIDA MAKES CONFESSION.
+
+
+I sat in my rooms in Albemarle Street utterly bewildered.
+
+My meeting with the mysterious woman who wore the spray of mimosa had,
+instead of assisting to clear up the mystery, increased it a hundredfold.
+
+The grave suspicions I had entertained of Phrida had been corroborated by
+her strangely direct insinuations and her suggestion that I should go to
+her and tell her plainly what had been alleged.
+
+Therefore, after a sleepless night, I went to Cromwell Road next morning,
+determined to know the truth. You can well imagine my state of mind when
+I entered Mrs. Shand's pretty morning-room, where great bowls of
+daffodils lent colour to the otherwise rather dull apartment.
+
+Phrida entered, gay, fresh, and charming, in a dark skirt and white
+blouse, having just risen from breakfast.
+
+"Really, Teddy," she laughed, "you ought to be awarded a prize for early
+rising. I fear I'm horribly late. It's ten o'clock. But mother and I went
+last night to the Aldwych, and afterwards with the Baileys to supper at
+the Savoy. So I may be forgiven, may I not--eh?"
+
+"Certainly, dear," I replied, placing my hand upon her shoulder. "What
+are you doing to-day?"
+
+"Oh! I'm quite full up with engagements," she replied, crossing to the
+writing-table and consulting a porcelain writing tablet.
+
+"I'm due at my dressmaker's at half-past eleven, then I've to call in
+Mount Street at half-past twelve, lunch at the Berkeley, where mother has
+two women to lunch with her, and a concert at Queen's Hall at
+three--quite a day, isn't it?" she laughed.
+
+"Yes," I said. "You are very busy--too busy even to talk seriously with
+me--eh?"
+
+"Talk seriously!" she echoed, looking me straight in the face. "What do
+you mean, Teddy? Why, what's the matter?"
+
+"Oh! nothing very much, dearest," was my reply, for I was striving to
+remain calm, not withstanding my great anxiety and tortured mind.
+
+"But there is," she persisted, clutching at my hand and looking eagerly
+into my face. "What is amiss? Tell me," she added, in low earnestness.
+
+I was silent for a moment, and leaving her I crossed to the window and
+gazed out into the broad, grey thoroughfare, grim and dispiriting on that
+chilly January morning.
+
+For a moment I held my breath, then, with sudden determination, I walked
+back to where she was standing, and placing both hands upon her
+shoulders, kissed her passionately upon the lips.
+
+"You are upset to-day, Teddy," she said, with deep concern. "What has
+happened? Tell me, dear."
+
+"I--I hardly know what's happened," I replied in a low voice. "But,
+Phrida," I said, looking straight into her great eyes, "I want to--to ask
+you a question."
+
+"A question--what?" she demanded, her cheeks paling slightly.
+
+"Yes. I want you to tell me what you know of a Mrs. Petre, a----"
+
+"Mrs. Petre!" she gasped, stepping back from me, her face pale as death
+in an instant. "That woman!"
+
+"Yes, that woman, Phrida. Who is she--what is she?"
+
+"Please don't ask me, Teddy," my love cried in distress, covering her
+pretty face with her hands and bursting suddenly into tears.
+
+"But I must, Phrida--I must, for my own peace of mind," I said.
+
+"Why? Do you know the woman?"
+
+"I met her last night," I explained. "I delivered to her a note which my
+friend Digby had entrusted to me."
+
+"I thought your friend had disappeared?" she said quickly.
+
+"It was given to me before his flight," was my response. "I fulfilled a
+confidential mission with which he entrusted me. And--and I met her. She
+knows you--isn't that so?"
+
+I stood with my eyes full upon the white face of the woman I loved,
+surveying her coldly and critically, so full of black suspicion. Was my
+heart at that moment wholly hers? In imagination, place yourself, my
+reader, in a similar position. Put before yourself the problem with
+which, at that second, I found myself face to face.
+
+I loved Phrida, and yet had I not obtained proof positive of her
+clandestine visit to my friend on that fateful night? Were her
+finger-prints not upon the little glass-topped specimen-table in his
+room?
+
+And yet so clever, so ingenious had she been, so subtle was her woman's
+wit, that she had never admitted to me any knowledge of him further than
+a formal introduction I had once made long ago.
+
+I had trusted her--aye, trusted her with all the open sincerity of an
+honourable man--for I loved her better than anything else on earth. And
+with what result?
+
+With my own senses of smell and of hearing I had detected her presence on
+the stairs--waiting, it seemed, to visit my friend in secret after I had
+left.
+
+No doubt she had been unaware of my identity as his visitor, or she would
+never dared to have lurked there.
+
+As I stood with my hand tenderly upon her arm, the gaze of my
+well-beloved was directed to the ground. Guilt seemed written upon her
+white brow, for she dared not raise her eyes to mine.
+
+"Phrida, you know that woman--you can't deny knowledge of her--can you?"
+
+She stood like a statue, with her hands clenched, her mouth half open,
+her jaws fixed.
+
+"I--I--I don't know what you mean," she faltered at last, in a hard voice
+quite unusual to her.
+
+"I mean that I have a suspicion, Phrida--a horrible suspicion--that you
+have deceived me," I said.
+
+"How?" she asked, with her harsh, forced laugh.
+
+I paused. How should I tell her? How should I begin?
+
+"You have suppressed from me certain knowledge of which you know I ought
+to have been in possession for my friend Digby's sake, and----"
+
+"Ah! Digby Kemsley again!" she cried impatiently. "You've not been the
+same to me since that man disappeared."
+
+"Because you know more concerning him than you have ever admitted to me,
+Phrida," I said in a firm, earnest voice, grasping her by the arm and
+whispering into her ear. "Now, be open and frank with me--tell me the
+truth."
+
+"Of what?" she faltered, raising her eyes to mine with a frightened look.
+
+"Of what Mrs. Petre has told me."
+
+"That woman! What has she said against me?" my love demanded with quick
+resentment.
+
+"She is not your friend, in any case," I said slowly.
+
+"My friend!" she echoed. "I should think not. She----"
+
+And my love's little hands clenched themselves and she burst again into
+tears without concluding her sentence.
+
+"I know, dearest," I said, striving to calm her, and stroking her hair
+from her white brow. "I tell you at once that I do not give credence to
+any of her foul allegations, only--well, in order to satisfy myself, I
+have come direct to you to hear your explanation."
+
+"My--my explanation!" she gasped, placing her hand to her brow and bowing
+her head. "Ah! what explanation can I make of allegations I have never
+heard?" she demanded. "Surely, Teddy, you are asking too much."
+
+I grasped her hand, and holding it in mine gazed again upon her. We were
+standing together near the centre of the room where the glowing fire
+shed a genial warmth and lit up the otherwise gloomy and solemn
+apartment.
+
+Ah! how sweet she seemed to me, how dainty, how charming, how very pure.
+And yet? Ah! the recollection of that woman's insinuations on the
+previous night ate like a canker-worm into my heart. And yet how I loved
+the pale, agitated girl before me! Was she not all the world to me?
+
+A long and painful silence had fallen between us, a silence only broken
+by the whirl of a taxi passing outside and the chiming of the long,
+old-fashioned clock on the stairs.
+
+At last I summoned courage to say in a calm, low voice;
+
+"I am not asking too much, Phrida. I am only pressing you to act with
+your usual honesty, and tell me the truth. Surely you can have nothing to
+conceal?"
+
+"How absurd you are, Teddy!" she said in her usual voice. "What can I
+possibly have to conceal from you?"
+
+"Pardon me," I said; "but you have already concealed from me certain very
+important facts concerning my friend Digby."
+
+"Who has told you that? The woman Petre, I suppose," she cried in anger.
+"Very well, believe her, if you wish."
+
+"But I don't believe her," I protested.
+
+"Then why ask me for an explanation?"
+
+"Because one is, I consider, due from you in the circumstances."
+
+"Then you have set yourself up to be my judge, have you?" she asked,
+drawing herself up proudly, all traces of her tears having vanished. I
+saw that the attitude she had now assumed was one of defiance; therefore
+I knew that if I were to obtain the information I desired I must act with
+greatest discretion.
+
+"No, Phrida," I answered. "I do not mistrust or misjudge you. All I ask
+of you is the truth. What do you know of my friend Digby Kemsley?"
+
+"Know of him--why, nothing--except that you introduced us."
+
+For a second I remained silent. Then with severity I remarked:
+
+"Pardon me, but I think you rather misunderstood my question. I meant to
+ask whether you have ever been to his flat in Harrington Gardens?"
+
+"Ah! I see," she cried instantly. "That woman Petre has endeavoured to
+set you against me, Teddy, because I love you. She has invented some
+cruel lie or other, just as she did in another case within my knowledge.
+Come," she added, "tell me out plainly what she has alleged against me?"
+
+She was very firm and resolute now, and I saw in her face a hard, defiant
+expression--an expression of bitter hatred against the woman who had
+betrayed her.
+
+"Well," I said; "loving you as intensely as I do, I can hardly bring
+myself to repeat her insinuations."
+
+"But I demand to know them," she protested, standing erect and facing me.
+"I am attacked; therefore, I am within my right to know what charges the
+woman has brought against me."
+
+"She has brought no direct charges," was my slow reply. "But she has
+suggested certain things--certain scandalous things."
+
+"What are they?" she gasped, suddenly pale as death.
+
+"First tell me the truth, Phrida," I cried, holding her in my arms and
+looking straight into those splendid eyes I admired so much. "Admit
+it--you knew Digby. He--he was a friend of yours?"
+
+"A--a friend--" she gasped, half choking with emotion. "A--friend--yes."
+
+"You knew him intimately. You visited him at his rooms unknown to me!" I
+went on fiercely.
+
+"Ah!" she shrieked. "Don't torture me like this, Teddy, when I love you
+so deeply. You don't know--you can never know all I have suffered--and
+now this woman has sought to ruin and crush me!"
+
+"Has she spoken the truth when she says that you visited Digby--at
+night--in secret!" I demanded, bitterly, between my teeth, still holding
+her, her white, hard-set face but a few inches from my own.
+
+She drew a long, deep breath, and in her eyes was a strange
+half-fascinated look--a look that I had never seen in them before.
+
+"Ah! Teddy," she gasped. "This--this is the death of all our love. I
+foresee only darkness and ruin before me. But I will not lie to you. No!
+I--I----"
+
+Then she paused, and a shudder ran through her slim frame which I held
+within my grasp. "I'll tell you the truth. Yes. I--I--went to see your
+friend unknown to you."
+
+"You did!" I cried hoarsely, with fierce anger possessing my soul.
+
+"Yes, dear," she faltered in a voice so low that I could scarce catch her
+reply. "Yes--I--I went there," she faltered, "because--because he--he
+compelled me."
+
+"Compelled you!" I echoed in blank dismay.
+
+But at that instant I saw that the blackness of unconsciousness had
+fallen upon my love even as I held her in my embrace.
+
+And for me, too, alas! the sun of life had ceased to shine, and the world
+was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE FUGITIVE'S SECRET.
+
+
+Tenderly I placed my love upon the couch, and then rang the bell.
+
+In answer to my summons the young Italian man-servant appeared.
+
+"Send Mallock here quickly," I said. "Miss Shand is not well. But say
+nothing of this to your mistress, or to the other servants. You
+understand, Egisto?"
+
+"Cer-tainly, sare," replied the smart young Tuscan, and a few moments
+later the door re-opened to admit the thin-faced maid in black, wearing
+her muslin apron and gold-rimmed glasses.
+
+She dashed across to the couch in an instant, and bent, looking into the
+white, immobile face of my well-beloved.
+
+"I fear your mistress has fainted, Mallock, so I thought it best to call
+you. I have, unfortunately, imparted to her some news which has upset
+her. Will you please see after her?"
+
+"Of course, sir. I'll go and get some smelling salts and some water."
+
+And quickly the girl disappeared. Then, when she had gone, I stood
+before the inanimate form of the woman I loved so well, and wondered what
+could be the real, actual truth.
+
+Her admission had taken me aback. She had confessed to visiting my
+friend, but had alleged that he had compelled her. Was she actually
+beneath some mysterious thraldom--was she held in some secret bondage by
+the man I had trusted and who was my best friend?
+
+The very suspicion of it filled me with a fierce irresponsible anger, and
+I clenched my fists.
+
+Ah! I would find him and face him. I would clutch his throat and force
+the truth from his lips.
+
+And if he had betrayed me--if he had exercised any evil influence over
+Phrida--then, by heaven! I would take his life!
+
+Mallock bustled in the next moment, and sinking upon her knees began to
+apply restoratives.
+
+"Tell your mistress that I will return after luncheon, if she will see
+me," I said.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And--and tell her, Mallock, to remain calm until I see her. Will you?"
+
+"Yes, sir," answered the maid, and then I went out into the hall,
+struggled into my overcoat, and left the house.
+
+Out in Cromwell Road the scene, grey, dull and dismal, was, alas! in
+accord with my own feelings.
+
+The blow I had feared had fallen. The terrible suspicion I had held from
+that moment when, upon the stairs at Harrington Gardens, I had smelt that
+sweet, unusual perfume and heard the jingle of golden bangles, had been
+proved.
+
+She had actually admitted her presence there--with the man I had believed
+to be my friend, the man, whom, up to the present, I had sought to shield
+and protect!
+
+I hailed a taxi, and not knowing what I did, drove to the Reform. As I
+passed up the steps from Pall Mall the porter handed me my letters, and
+then, heedless of where my footsteps carried me, I entered the big,
+square hall and turned into the writing-room on the left--a room historic
+in the annals of British politics, for many a State secret had been
+discussed there by Ministers of the Crown, many a point of the Cabinet's
+policy had been decided, and also the fate of many a bill.
+
+The long, sombre room with the writing tables covered with blue cloth,
+was empty, as it usually is, and I flung myself down to scribble a
+note--an apology for not keeping an appointment that afternoon.
+
+My overburdened heart was full of chagrin and grief, for my idol had been
+shattered by a single blow, and only the wreck of all my hopes and
+aspirations now remained.
+
+In a week's time the coroner would hold his adjourned inquiry into the
+tragedy at Harrington Gardens, and then what startling revelations might
+be made! By that time it was probable that the police would be able to
+establish the identity of the accused, and, moreover, with Mrs. Petre
+vengeful and incensed against Phrida, might she not make a statement to
+the authorities?
+
+If so, what then?
+
+I sat with my elbows upon the table staring out into Pall Mall, which
+wore such a cold and cheerless aspect that morning.
+
+What could I do? How should I act? Ah! yes, at that moment I sat utterly
+bewildered, and trying in vain to discern some way out of that maze of
+mystery.
+
+I had not looked at the unopened letters beneath my hand, but suddenly
+chancing to glance at them, I noticed one in an unfamiliar feminine
+handwriting.
+
+I tore it open carelessly, expecting to find some invitation or other,
+when, within, I found three hastily scrawled lines written on the
+notepaper of the Great Eastern Hotel at Liverpool Street. It read:
+
+    "Since I saw you something has happened. Can you meet me again
+    as soon as possible? Please wire me, Mrs. Petre, Melbourne
+    House, Colchester."
+
+I gazed at the note in extreme satisfaction. At least, I had the woman's
+address. Yes, after I had again seen Phrida I would see her and force
+from her lips the truth.
+
+I rose quickly, placed the other letters in my pocket without opening
+them, and drove down to the City, where I was compelled to keep a
+business appointment.
+
+At half-past three Egisto admitted me to Mrs. Shand's, and in reply to my
+question, told me that the "Signorina," as he always called Phrida, was
+in the morning-room.
+
+Dressed in a pale grey gown, relieved with lace at the collar and wrists,
+she rose slowly from a big armchair as I entered, and came across to me,
+her face pale, drawn, and anxious.
+
+"Ah! dearest," I cried. "I'm glad to see you better. Are you quite
+yourself again now?"
+
+"Quite, thanks," was her low, rather weak reply. "I--I felt very unwell
+this morning. I--I don't know what was the matter." Then clinging to me
+suddenly, she added, "Ah! forgive me, Teddy, won't you?"
+
+"There is nothing to forgive, dear," was my reply, as, placing my arm
+tenderly about her slim waist, I looked into the depths of those
+wonderful dark eyes of hers, trying to fathom what secret lay hidden
+there.
+
+"Ah!" she ejaculated. "I know, dear, that though you affect to have
+forgiven me--that you have not. How could you possibly forgive?"
+
+"I am not angry with you in the least, Phrida!" I assured her quite
+calmly. "Because you have not yet told me the truth. I am here to learn
+it."
+
+"Yes," she gasped, sinking into a chair and staring straight into the
+fire. The short winter's day was dying, and already the light had nearly
+faded. But the fire threw a mellow glow upon her pale, hard-set features,
+and she presented a strangely dramatic picture as she sat there with head
+bent in shame. "Ah! yes. You are here again to torture me, I suppose,"
+she sighed bitterly.
+
+"I have no desire in the least to torture you," I said, standing erect
+before her. "But I certainly think that some explanation of your conduct
+is due to me--the man whom you are to marry."
+
+"Marry!" she echoed in a blank voice, with a shrug of her shoulders, her
+eyes still fixed upon the fire.
+
+"Yes, marry," I repeated. "You made an admission to me this morning--one
+of which any man would in such circumstances demand explanation. You said
+that my friend had forced you to go to Harrington Gardens. Tell me why?
+What power does that man hold over you?"
+
+"Ah, no! Teddy!" she cried, starting wildly to her feet. "No, no!" she
+protested, grasping my hands frantically. "Don't ask that question. Spare
+me that! Spare me that, for the sake of the love you once bore for me."
+
+"No. I repeat my question," I said slowly, but very determinedly.
+
+"Ah! no. I--I can't answer it. I----"
+
+For a few moments a silence fell between us.
+
+Then I said in a low, meaning tone:
+
+"You can't answer it, Phrida, because you are ashamed, eh?"
+
+She sprang upon me in an instant, her face full of resentful fire.
+
+"No!" she declared vehemently. "I am not ashamed--only I--I cannot tell
+you the reason I went to Harrington Gardens. That's all."
+
+"Yours is, to say the least, a rather thin excuse, is it not?" I asked.
+
+"What else can I say? Simply I can tell you nothing."
+
+"But you admit that you went to Harrington Gardens. Did you go more than
+once?" I asked very quietly.
+
+She nodded in the affirmative.
+
+"And the last occasion was on the night when my friend was forced to
+fly, eh?" I suggested.
+
+I saw that she was about to elude answering my question. Therefore, I
+added:
+
+"I already know you were there. I have established your presence beyond
+the shadow of doubt. So you may just as well admit it."
+
+"I--I do," she faltered, sinking again into her chair and resting her
+elbows upon her knees.
+
+"You were there--you were present when the crime was committed," I said,
+looking straight at her as I stood before her with folded arms.
+
+"Whoever has said that tells wicked lies," was her quick response.
+
+"You were in Digby's room that night--after I left," I declared.
+
+"How do you know."
+
+"Because the police have photographs of your finger-prints," was my quiet
+reply.
+
+The effect of my words upon her was electrical.
+
+"The police!" she gasped, her face instantly pale as death. "Do they
+know?"
+
+"Inspector Edwards is in possession of your finger-prints," I replied
+briefly.
+
+"Then--then they will suspect me!" she shrieked in despair. "Ah! Teddy!
+If you love me, save me!"
+
+And she flung herself wildly at my feet, clutching my hands and raising
+her face to mine in frantic appeal.
+
+"For that very reason I have returned here to you to-day, Phrida," I
+replied in a low tone of sympathy. "If I can save you from being
+implicated in this terrible affair, I will. But you must tell me the
+whole truth from the start. Then I may be able to devise a plan to
+ensure your security."
+
+And I slowly assisted her to her feet and led her back to her chair.
+
+She sat without moving or speaking for some moments, gravely thinking.
+Then of a sudden, she said in a hard, hoarse voice:
+
+"Ah! you don't know, Teddy, what I have suffered--how I have been the
+innocent victim of a foul and dastardly plot. I--I was entrapped--I----"
+
+"Entrapped!" I echoed. "By whom? Not by Digby Kemsley? He was not the
+sort of man."
+
+"He is your friend, I know. But if you knew the truth you would hate
+him--hate him, with as deep and fierce a hatred as I do now," she
+declared, with a strange look in her great eyes.
+
+"You told me he had forced you to go to his flat."
+
+"He did."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because he wanted to tell me something--to----"
+
+"To tell you what?"
+
+"I refuse to explain--I can't tell you, Teddy."
+
+"Because it would be betraying his secret--eh?" I remarked with
+bitterness. "And, yet, in the same breath you have told me you hate him.
+Surely, this attitude of yours is an unusual one--is it not? You cannot
+hate him and strive to shield him at the same moment!"
+
+She paused for a second before replying. Then she said:
+
+"I admit that my attitude towards your friend is a somewhat strange one,
+but there are reasons--strong, personal reasons of my own--which prevent
+me revealing to you the whole of what is a strange and ghastly story.
+Surely it will suffice you to know that I did not conceal all knowledge
+of your friend and call upon him in secret all of my own free will. No,
+Teddy, I loved you--and I still love you, dear--far too well for that."
+
+"I trusted you, Phrida, but you deceived me," I replied, with a poignant
+bitterness in my heart.
+
+"Under compulsion. Because----" and she paused with a look of terror in
+her eyes.
+
+"Because what?" I asked slowly, placing my hand tenderly upon her
+shoulder.
+
+She shrank from contact with me.
+
+"No. I--I can't tell you. It--it's all too terrible, too horrible!" she
+whispered hoarsely, covering her white face with her hands. "I loved you,
+but, alas! all my happiness, all the joy of which I have so long dreamed,
+has slipped away from me because of the one false step--my one foolish
+action--of which I have so long repented."
+
+"Tell me, Phrida," I urged, in deep earnestness, bending down to her.
+"Confide in me."
+
+"No," she replied, with an air of determination. "It is my own affair. I
+have acted foolishly and must bear the consequences."
+
+"But surely you will not sacrifice our love rather than tell me the
+truth!" I cried.
+
+Hot tears welled in her eyes, and I felt her frail form tremble beneath
+my touch.
+
+"Alas! I am compelled," she faltered.
+
+"Then you refuse to tell me--you refuse to explain why this man whom I
+believed to be my friend, and to whom I have rendered many services, has
+held you in his thraldom?" I exclaimed bitterly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+REVEALS A FURTHER DECEPTION.
+
+
+My love paused. She remained silent for a long time. Then, with her head
+bowed, she faltered:
+
+"Yes. I--I am compelled to refuse."
+
+"Why compelled?" I demanded.
+
+"I--I cannot tell you," she whispered hoarsely. "I dare not."
+
+"Dare not? Is your secret so terrible, then?"
+
+"Yes. It is all a mystery. I do not know the truth myself," she replied.
+"I only know that I--that I love you, and that now, because that woman
+has spoken, I have lost you and am left to face the world--the
+police--alone!"
+
+"Have I not told you, dearest, that I will do my best to protect and
+defend you if you will only reveal the truth to me," I said.
+
+"But I can't."
+
+"You still wish to shield this blackguard who has held you in secret in
+his hands?" I cried in anger.
+
+"No, I don't," she cried in despair. "I tell you, Teddy, now--even if
+this is the last time we ever meet--that I love you and you alone. I
+have fallen the victim of a clever and dastardly plot, believe me, or
+believe me not. What I tell you is the truth."
+
+"I do believe you," I replied fervently. "But if you love me, Phrida, as
+you declare, you will surely reveal to me the perfidy of this man I have
+trusted!"
+
+"I--I can't now," she said in a voice of excuse. "It is impossible. But
+you may know some day."
+
+"You knew that I visited him on that fatal night. Answer me?"
+
+She hesitated. Then presently, in a low tone, replied--
+
+"Yes, Teddy, I knew. Ah!" she went on, her face white and haggard. "You
+cannot know the torture I have undergone--fearing that you might be aware
+of my presence there. Each time I met you I feared to look you in the
+face."
+
+"Because your secret is a guilty one--eh?"
+
+"I fell into a trap, and I cannot extricate myself," she declared
+hoarsely. "Now that the police know, there is only one way out for me,"
+she added, in a tone of blank despair. "I cannot face it--no--I--now that
+I have lost your love, dear. I care for naught more. My enemies will
+hound me to my death!"
+
+And she burst into a torrent of bitter tears.
+
+"No, no," I answered her, placing my hand tenderly upon her shoulder.
+"Reveal the truth to me, and I will protect you and shield you from them.
+At present, though the police are in possession of your finger-prints, as
+being those of a person who had entered the flat on that night, they have
+no knowledge of your identity, therefore, dear, have no fear."
+
+"Ah! but I am in peril!" she cried, and I felt her shudder beneath my
+touch. "That woman--ah!--she may tell the police!"
+
+"What woman?"
+
+"Mrs. Petre, the woman who has already betrayed me to you."
+
+"Then she knows--she knows your secret?" I gasped.
+
+She bent her head slowly in the affirmative.
+
+I saw in her eyes a look of terror and despair, such as I had never
+before seen in the eyes of any person before--a haunted, agonised
+expression that caused my heart to go out in sympathy for her--for even
+though she might be guilty--guilty of that crime of vengeance, yet, after
+all, she was mine and she possessed my heart.
+
+"Is there no way of closing that woman's lips?" I asked very slowly.
+
+She was silent, for, apparently, the suggestion had not before occurred
+to her. Of a sudden, she looked up into my face earnestly, and asked:
+
+"Tell me, Teddy. Will you promise me--promise not to prejudge me?"
+
+"I do not prejudge you at all, dearest," I declared with a smile. "My
+annoyance is due to your refusal to reveal to me anything concerning the
+man who has falsely posed as my friend."
+
+"I would tell you all, dearest," she assured me, "but it is impossible.
+If I spoke I should only further arouse your suspicions, for you would
+never believe that I spoke the truth."
+
+"Then you prefer that I should remain in ignorance, and by doing so your
+own peril becomes increased!" I remarked, rather harshly.
+
+"Alas! my silence is imperative," was all she would reply.
+
+Again and again I pressed her to tell me the reason of the evil influence
+held over her by the man who was now a fugitive, but with the greatest
+ingenuity she evaded my questions, afterwards declaring that all my
+inquiries were futile. The secret was hers.
+
+"And so you intend to shield this man, Phrida," I remarked at last, in
+bitter reproach.
+
+"I am not silent for his sake!" my love cried, starting up in quick
+resentment. "I hate him too much. No, I refuse to reveal the truth
+because I am compelled."
+
+"But supposing you were compelled to clear yourself in a criminal court,"
+I said. "Supposing that this woman went to the police! What then? You
+would be compelled to speak the truth."
+
+"No. I--I'd rather kill myself!" she declared, in frantic despair.
+"Indeed, that is what I intend to do--now that I know I have lost you!"
+
+"No, no," I cried. "You have not lost me, Phrida. I still believe in your
+purity and honesty," I went on, clasping her passionately to my heart,
+she sobbing bitterly the while. "I love you and I still believe in you,"
+I whispered into her ear.
+
+She heaved a great sigh.
+
+"Ah! I wonder if you really speak the truth?" she murmured. "If I thought
+you still believed in me, how happy I should be. I would face my enemies,
+and defy them."
+
+"I repeat, Phrida, that notwithstanding this suspicion upon you, I love
+you," I said very earnestly.
+
+"Then you will not prejudge me!" she asked, raising her tear-stained eyes
+to mine. "You will not believe evil of me until--until I can prove to
+you the contrary. You will not believe what Mrs. Petre has told you?" she
+implored.
+
+"I promise, dearest, that I will believe nothing against you," I said
+fervently, kissing her cold, hard lips. "But cannot you, in return,
+assist me in solving the mystery of Harrington Gardens. Who was the girl
+found there? Surely you know?"
+
+"No, I don't. I swear I don't," was her quick reply, though her face was
+blanched to the lips.
+
+"But Mrs. Petre gave me to understand that you knew her," I said.
+
+"Yes--that woman!" she cried in anger. "She has lied to you, as to the
+others. Have I not told you that she is my most deadly enemy?"
+
+"Then she may go to the police--who knows! How can we close her mouth?"
+
+My love drew a long breath and shook her head. The light had faded, and
+only the fitful flames of the fire illuminated the sombre room. In the
+dark shadows she presented a pale, pathetic little figure, her face white
+as death, her thin, delicate hands clasped before her in dismay and
+despair.
+
+"Have you any idea where Digby is at this moment?" I asked her slowly,
+wondering whether if he were an intimate friend he had let her know his
+hiding-place.
+
+"No. I have not the slightest idea," was her faint reply.
+
+"Ah! If only I could discover him I would wring the truth from him," I
+exclaimed between my teeth.
+
+"And if you did so, I myself would be imperilled," she remarked. "No,
+Teddy, you must not do that if--if you love me and would protect me."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"If you went to him he would know that I had spoken, and then he would
+fulfil the threats he has so often made. No, you must not utter a single
+word. You must, for my sake, still remain his friend. Will you, dear?"
+
+"After what you have told me!" I cried. "Never!"
+
+"But you must," she implored, grasping both my hands in hers. "If he had
+the slightest suspicion that I had admitted my friendship with him, he
+would act as he has always declared he would."
+
+"How would he act?"
+
+"He would reveal something--he would bring proofs that even you would
+consider irrefutable," she answered in a low, hard whisper. "No, dear,"
+and her grip upon my hands tightened. "In any case there only remains to
+me one course--to end it all, for in any case, I must lose you. Your
+confidence and love can never be restored."
+
+"You must not speak like that," I said very gravely. "I have not yet lost
+confidence in you, Phrida. I----"
+
+"Ah! I know how generous you are, dear," she interrupted, "but how can I
+conceal from myself the true position? You have discovered that I visited
+that man's flat clandestinely, that--that we were friends--and that----"
+
+She paused, not concluding her sentence, and bursting again into tears,
+rushed from the room before I could grasp and detain her.
+
+I stood silent, utterly dumbfounded.
+
+Were those words an admission of her guilt?
+
+Was it by her hand, as that woman had insinuated, the unknown girl's life
+had been taken?
+
+I recollected the nature of the wound, as revealed by the medical
+evidence, and I recalled that knife which was lying upon the table in
+the drawing-room above.
+
+Why did Phrida so carefully conceal from me the exact truth concerning
+her friendship with the man I had trusted? What secret power did he
+exercise over her? And why did she fear to reveal anything to me--even
+though I had assured her that my confidence in her remained unshaken.
+
+Was not guilt written upon that hard, white face?
+
+I stood staring out of the window in blank indecision. What I had all
+along half feared had been proved. Between my love and the man of whom I
+had never had the slightest suspicion, some secret--some guilty
+secret--existed.
+
+And even now, even at risk of losing my affection, she was seeking to
+shield him!
+
+My blood boiled within me, and I clenched my fists as I strode angrily up
+and down that dark room.
+
+All her admissions came back to me--her frantic appeal to me not to
+prejudge her, and her final and out-spoken decision to take her own life
+rather than reveal the truth.
+
+What could it mean? What was the real solution of that strange problem of
+crime in which, quite unwittingly, I had become so deeply implicated?
+
+I was passing the grate in pacing the room, as I had already done several
+times, when my eyes fell upon a piece of paper which had been screwed up
+and flung there. Curiosity prompted me to pick it out of the cinders, for
+it struck me that it must have been thrown there by Phrida before I had
+entered the room.
+
+To my surprise I saw the moment I held it in my hand that it was a
+telegram. Opening it carefully I found that it was addressed to her,
+therefore she had no doubt cast it upon the fire when I had so suddenly
+entered.
+
+I read it, and stood open-mouthed and amazed.
+
+By it the perfidy of the woman I loved, alas! became revealed.
+
+She had deceived me!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+AN EFFACED IDENTITY.
+
+
+The telegram was signed with the initial "D."--Digby!
+
+The words I read were--"Have discovered T suspects. Exercise greatest
+care, and remember your promise. We shall meet again soon."
+
+The message showed that it had been handed in at Brussels at one o'clock
+that afternoon.
+
+Brussels! So he was hiding there. Yes, I would lose no time in crossing
+to the gay little Belgian capital and search him out.
+
+Before giving him up to the police I would meet him face to face and
+demand the truth. I would compel him to speak.
+
+Should I retain possession of the message? I reflected. But, on
+consideration, I saw that when I had left, Phrida might return to recover
+it. If I replaced it where I had found it she would remain in ignorance
+of the knowledge I had gained.
+
+So I screwed it up again and put it back among the cinders in the grate,
+afterwards leaving the house.
+
+Next morning I stepped out upon the platform of the great Gare du Nord in
+Brussels--a city I knew well, as I had often been there on business--and
+drove in a taxi along the busy, bustling Boulevard Auspach to the Grand
+Hotel.
+
+In the courtyard, as I got out, the frock-coated and urbane manager
+welcomed me warmly, for I had frequently been his guest, and I was shown
+to a large room overlooking the Boulevard where I had a wash and changed.
+
+Then descending, I called a taxi and immediately began a tour of the
+various hotels where I thought it most likely that the man I sought might
+be.
+
+The morning was crisp and cold, with a perfect sky and brilliant
+sunshine, bright and cheerful indeed after the mist and gloom of January
+in London.
+
+Somehow the aspect, even in winter, is always brighter across the channel
+than in our much maligned little island. They know not the "pea-souper"
+on the other side of the Straits of Dover, and the light, invigorating
+atmosphere is markedly apparent directly one enters France or Belgium.
+
+The business boulevards, the Boulevarde Auspach, and the Boulevard du
+Nord, with their smart shops, their big cafés, and their hustling crowds,
+were bright and gay as my taxi sped on, first to the Métropole, in the
+Place de Brouckere.
+
+The name of Kemsley was unknown there. The old concierge glanced at his
+book, shook his head, and elevating his shoulders, replied:
+
+"Non, m'sieur."
+
+Thence I went to the Palace, in front of the station, the great new hotel
+and one of the finest in Europe, a huge, garish place of gilt and luxury.
+But there I met with equal success.
+
+Then I made the tour of the tree-lined outer boulevards, up past the
+Botanical Gardens and along the Rue Royale, first to the Hotel de France,
+then to the Europe, the Belle Vue, the Carlton in the Avenue Louise, the
+new Wiltscher's a few doors away, and a very noted English house from the
+Boulevard Waterloo, as well as a dozen other houses in various parts of
+the town--the Cecil in the Boulevard du Nord, the Astoria in the Rue
+Royale, and even one or two of the cheaper pensions--the Dufour, De
+Boek's, and Nettell's, but all to no purpose.
+
+Though I spent the whole of that day making investigations I met with no
+success.
+
+Though I administered judicious tips to concierge after concierge, I
+could not stir the memory of a single one that within the past ten days
+any English gentleman answering the description I gave had stayed at
+their establishment.
+
+Until the day faded, and the street lamps were lit, I continued my
+search, my taxi-driver having entered into the spirit of my quest, and
+from time to time suggesting other and more obscure hotels of which I had
+never heard.
+
+But the reply was the same--a regretful "Non, m'sieur."
+
+It had, of course, occurred to me that if the fugitive was hiding from
+the Belgian police, who no doubt had received his description from
+Scotland Yard, he would most certainly assume a false name.
+
+But I hoped by my minute description to be able to stir the memory of one
+or other of the dozens of uniformed hall-porters whom I interviewed. The
+majority of such men have a remarkably retentive memory for a face, due
+to long cultivation, just as that possessed by one's club hall-porter,
+who can at once address any of the thousand or so members by name.
+
+I confess, however, when at five o'clock, I sat in the huge, noisy Café
+Métropole over a glass of coffee and a liqueur of cognac, I began to
+realise the utter hopelessness of my search.
+
+Digby Kemsley was ever an evasive person--a past master in avoiding
+observation, as I well knew. It had always been a hobby of his, he had
+told me, of watching persons without himself being seen.
+
+Once he had remarked to me while we had been smoking together in that
+well-remembered room wherein the tragedy had taken place:
+
+"I should make a really successful detective, Royle. I've had at certain
+periods of my life to efface myself and watch unseen. Now I've brought it
+to a fine art. If ever circumstances make it imperative for me to
+disappear--which I hope not," he laughed, "well--nobody will ever find
+me, I'm positive."
+
+These words of his now came back to me as I sat there pensively smoking,
+and wondering if, after all, I had better not return again to London and
+remain patient for the additional police evidence which would no doubt be
+forthcoming at the adjourned inquest in a week's time.
+
+I thought of the clever cunning exercised by the girl whom I so dearly
+loved and in whose innocence I had so confidently believed, of her blank
+refusal to satisfy me, and alas! of her avowed determination to shield
+the scoundrel who had posed as my friend, and whom the police had
+declared to be only a vulgar impostor.
+
+My bitter reflection maddened me.
+
+The jingle and chatter of that noisy café, full to overflowing at that
+hour, for rain had commenced to fall outside in the boulevard, irritated
+me. From where I sat in the window I could see the crowds of business
+people, hurrying through the rain to their trams and trains--the
+neat-waisted little modistes, the felt-hatted young clerks, the obese and
+over-dressed and whiskered men from their offices on the Bourse, the
+hawkers crying the "Soir," and the "Dernière Heure," with strident
+voices, the poor girls with rusty shawls and pinched faces, selling
+flowers, and the gaping, idling Cookites who seem to eternally pass and
+re-pass the Métropole at all hours of the day and the night.
+
+Before my eyes was there presented the whole phantasmagoria of the life
+of the thrifty, hard-working Bruxellois, that active, energetic race
+which the French have so sarcastically designated "the brave Belgians."
+
+After a lonely dinner in the big, glaring salle-à-manger, at the Grand, I
+went forth again upon my quest. That the fugitive had been in Brussels on
+the previous day was proved by his telegram, yet evasive as he was, he
+might have already left. Yet I hoped he still remained in the capital,
+and if so he would, I anticipated, probably go to one of the music-halls
+or variety theatres. Therefore I set out upon another round.
+
+I strolled eagerly through the crowded promenade of the chief music-hall
+of Brussels--the Pole Nord, the lounge wherein men and women were
+promenading, laughing, and drinking, but I saw nothing of the man of whom
+I was in search.
+
+I knew that he had shaved off his beard and otherwise altered his
+appearance. Therefore my attention upon those about me was compelled to
+be most acute.
+
+I surveyed both stalls and boxes, but amid that gay, well-dressed crowd I
+could discover nobody the least resembling him.
+
+From the Pole Nord I went to the Scala, where I watched part of an
+amusing revue; but my search there was likewise in vain, as it was also
+at Olympia, the Capucines, and the Folies Bergères, which I visited in
+turn. Then, at midnight, I turned my attention to the big cafés,
+wandering from the Bourse along the Boulevard Auspach, entering each café
+and glancing around, until at two o'clock in the morning I returned to
+the Grand, utterly fagged out by my long vigil of over fifteen hours.
+
+In my room I threw off my overcoat and flung myself upon the bed in utter
+despair.
+
+Until I met that man face to face I could not, I saw, learn the truth
+concerning my love's friendship with him.
+
+Mrs. Petre had made foul insinuations, and now that my suspicions had
+been aroused that Phrida might actually be guilty of that terrible crime
+at Harrington Gardens, the whole attitude of my well-beloved seemed to
+prove that my suspicions were well grounded.
+
+Indeed, her last unfinished sentence as she had rushed from the room
+seemed conclusive proof of the guilty secret by which her mind was now
+overburdened.
+
+She had never dreamed that I held the slightest suspicion. It was only
+when she knew that the woman Petre had met me and had talked with me that
+she saw herself betrayed. Then, when I had spoken frankly, and told her
+what the woman had said, she saw that to further conceal her friendship
+with Digby was impossible.
+
+Every word she had spoken, every evasive sentence, every protest that she
+was compelled to remain silent, recurred to me as I lay there staring
+blankly at the painted ceiling.
+
+She had told me that she was unaware of the fugitive's whereabouts, and
+yet not half an hour before she had received a telegram from him.
+
+Yes, Phrida--the woman I trusted and loved with such a fierce, passionate
+affection, had lied to me deliberately and barefacedly.
+
+But I was on the fellow's track, and cost what it might in time, or in
+money, I did not intend to relinquish my search until I came face to face
+with him.
+
+That night, as I tossed restlessly in bed, it occurred to me that even
+though he might be in Brussels, it was most probable in the circumstances
+that he would exercise every precaution in his movements, and knowing
+that the police were in search of him, would perhaps not go forth in the
+daytime.
+
+Many are the Englishmen living "under a cloud" in Brussels, as well as in
+Paris, and there is not a Continental city of note which does not contain
+one or more of those who have "gone under" at home.
+
+Seedy and down-at-heel, they lounge about the cafés and hotels frequented
+by English travellers. Sometimes they sit apart, pretend to sip their cup
+of coffee and read a newspaper, but in reality they are listening with
+avidity to their own language being spoken by their own people--poor,
+lonely, solitary exiles.
+
+Every man who knows the by-ways of the Continent has met them often in
+far-off, obscure towns, where they bury themselves in the lonely
+wilderness of a drab back street and live high-up for the sake of fresh
+air and that single streak of sunshine which is the sole pleasure of
+their broken, blighted lives.
+
+Yes, the more I reflected, the more apparent did it become that if the
+man whom Inspector Edwards had declared to be a gross impostor was still
+in the Belgian capital, he would most probably be in safe concealment in
+one or other of the cheaper suburbs.
+
+But how could I trace him?
+
+To go to the bureau of police and make a statement would only defeat my
+own ends.
+
+No; if I intended to learn the truth I must act upon my own initiative.
+Official interference would only thwart my own endeavours.
+
+I knew Digby Kemsley. He was as shrewd and cunning as any of the famous
+detectives, whether in real life or in fiction. Therefore, to be a match
+for him, I would, I already realised, be compelled to fight him with his
+own weapons.
+
+I did not intend that he should escape me before he told me, with his own
+lips, the secret of my well-beloved.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+REVEALS ANOTHER ENIGMA.
+
+
+"The identity of the victim has not yet been established, sir."
+
+These words were spoken to the coroner by Inspector Edwards at the
+adjourned inquest held on January the twenty-second.
+
+Few people were in court, for, until the present, the public had had no
+inkling as to what had occurred on that fatal night in Harrington
+Gardens. The first inquest had not been "covered" by any reporter, as the
+police had exercised considerable ingenuity in keeping the affair a
+secret.
+
+But now, at the adjourned inquiry, secrecy was no longer possible, and
+the three reporters present were full of inquisitiveness regarding the
+evidence given on the previous occasion, and listened with attention
+while it was being read over.
+
+Inspector Edwards, however, had dealt with them in his usually genial
+manner, and by the exercise of considerable diplomacy had succeeded in
+allaying their suspicions that there was any really good newspaper
+"story" in connection with it.
+
+The medical witnesses were recalled, but neither had anything to add to
+the depositions they had already made. The deceased had been fatally
+stabbed by a very keen knife with a blade of peculiar shape. That was
+all.
+
+The unknown had been buried, and all that remained in evidence was a
+bundle of blood-stained clothing, some articles of jewellery, a pair of
+boots, hat, coat, gloves, and a green leather vanity-bag.
+
+"Endeavours had been made, sir, to trace some of the articles worn by the
+deceased, and also to establish the laundry marks on the underclothing,"
+the inspector went on, "but, unfortunately, the marks have been
+pronounced by experts to be foreign ones, and the whole of the young
+lady's clothes appear to have been made abroad--in France or Belgium, it
+is thought."
+
+"The laundry marks are foreign, eh?" remarked the coroner, peering at the
+witness through his pince-nez, and poising his pen in his hand. "Are you
+endeavouring to make inquiry abroad concerning them?"
+
+"Every inquiry is being made, sir, in a dozen cities on the continent. In
+fact, in all the capitals."
+
+"And the description of the deceased has been circulated?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Photographs have been sent through all the channels in Europe.
+But up to the present we have met with no success," Edwards replied.
+"There is a suspicion because of a name upon a tab in the young girl's
+coat that she may be Italian. Hence the most ardent search is being made
+by the Italian authorities into the manner and descriptions of females
+lately reported as missing."
+
+"The affair seems remarkably curious," said the coroner. "It would
+certainly appear that the lady who lost her life was a stranger to
+London."
+
+"That is what we believe, sir," Edwards replied. Seated near him, I saw
+how keen and shrewd was the expression upon his face. "We have evidence
+that certain persons visited the flat on the night in question, but these
+have not yet been identified. The owner of the flat has not yet been
+found, he having absconded."
+
+"Gone abroad, I suppose?"
+
+"It would appear so, sir."
+
+"And his description has been circulated also?" asked the coroner.
+
+"Yes, a detailed description, together with a recent photograph," was
+Edwards' reply. Then he added: "We have received this at Scotland Yard,
+sir--an anonymous communication which may or may not throw considerable
+light on to the affair," and he handed a letter on blue paper to the
+coroner, which the latter perused curiously, afterwards passing it over
+to the foreman of the jury.
+
+"Rather remarkable!" he exclaimed.
+
+Then, when the jury had completed reading the anonymous letter,
+addressing them, he said:
+
+"It is not for you, gentlemen, to regard that letter in the light of
+evidence, but, nevertheless, it raises a very curious and mysterious
+point. The writer, as you will note, is prepared to reveal the truth of
+the whole affair in return for a monetary reward. It is, of course, a
+matter to be left entirely at the discretion of the police."
+
+I started at this statement, and gazed across the court--dull and
+cheerless on that cold winter's afternoon.
+
+Who had written that anonymous letter? Who could it be who was ready to
+reveal the truth if paid for doing so?
+
+Was Phrida's terrible secret known?
+
+I held my breath, and listened to the slow, hard words of the coroner, as
+he again addressed some questions to the great detective.
+
+"Yes, sir," Edwards was saying. "There is distinct evidence of the
+presence at the flat on the night in question of some person--a woman
+whose identity we have not yet been successful in establishing. We,
+however, have formed a theory which certainly appears to be borne out by
+the writer of the letter I have just handed you."
+
+"That the unknown was struck down by the hand of a woman--eh?" asked the
+Coroner, looking sharply across at the Inspector, who briefly replied in
+the affirmative, while I sat staring straight before me, like a man in a
+dream.
+
+I heard the Coroner addressing the jury in hard, business-like tones, but
+I know not what he said. My heart was too full to think of anything else
+besides the peril of the one whom I loved.
+
+I know that the verdict returned by the jury was one of "Wilful murder."
+Then I went out into the fading light of that brief London day, and,
+seeking Edwards, walked at his side towards the busy Kensington High
+Street.
+
+We had not met for several days, and he, of course, had no knowledge of
+my visit to Brussels. Our greeting was a cordial one, whereupon I asked
+him what was contained in the anonymous letter addressed to "The Yard"?
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle. It's very curious," he said. "The Coroner has it at this
+moment, or I'd show it to you. The handwriting is a woman's, and it has
+been posted at Colchester."
+
+"At Colchester!" I echoed in dismay.
+
+"Yes, why?" he asked, looking at me in surprise.
+
+"Oh, nothing. Only--well, Colchester is a curious place for anyone to
+live who knows the truth about an affair in Kensington," was my reply,
+for fortunately I quickly recovered myself.
+
+"Why not Colchester as well as Clapham--eh?"
+
+"Yes, of course," I laughed. "But, tell me, what does the woman say?"
+
+"She simply declares that she can elucidate the mystery and give us the
+correct clue--even bring evidence if required--as to the actual person
+who committed the crime, if we, on our part, will pay for the
+information."
+
+"And what shall you do?" I asked eagerly.
+
+"I don't exactly know. The letter only arrived this morning. To-morrow
+the Council of Seven will decide what action we take."
+
+"Does the woman give her name?" I asked with affected carelessness.
+
+"No. She only gives the name of 'G. Payne,' and the address as 'The
+G.P.O., London.' She's evidently a rather cute person."
+
+"G. Payne"--the woman Petre without a doubt.
+
+I recollected her telegram asking me to meet her. She had said that
+something had "happened," and she had urged me to see her as soon as
+possible. Was it because I had not replied that she had penned that
+anonymous letter to the police?
+
+The letter bore the Colchester post-mark, and she, I knew, lived at
+Melbourne House in that town.
+
+"I suppose you will get into communication with her," I exclaimed
+presently.
+
+"Of course. Any line of action in the elucidation of the mystery is worth
+trying. But what I cannot quite understand is, why she requires
+blood-money," remarked the detective as we strolled together in the
+arcaded entrance to the Underground Station at High Street, Kensington.
+"I always look askance at such letters. We receive many of them at the
+Yard. Not a single murder mystery comes before us, but we receive letters
+from cranks and others offering to point out the guilty person."
+
+"But may not the writers of such letters be endeavouring to fasten guilt
+upon perfectly innocent persons against whom they have spite?" I
+suggested.
+
+"Ah! That's just it, Mr. Royle," exclaimed my companion gravely. "Yet it
+is so terribly difficult to discriminate, and I fear we often, in our
+hesitation, place aside letters, the writers of which could really give
+valuable information."
+
+"But in this case, what are your natural inclinations?" I asked. "I know
+that you possess a curious, almost unique, intuition as to what is fact
+and what is fiction. What is, may I term it, your private opinion?"
+
+He halted against the long shop-windows of Derry & Toms, and paused for
+several minutes.
+
+"Well," he said at last in a deeply earnest tone, "I tell you frankly,
+Mr. Royle, what I believe. First, I don't think that the man Kemsley,
+although an impostor, was the actual assassin."
+
+"Why?" I gasped.
+
+"Well--I've very carefully studied the whole problem. I've looked at it
+from every point of view," he said. "I confess the one fact puzzles me,
+that this man Kemsley could live so long in London and pose as the dead
+Sir Digby if he were not the actual man himself, has amazed me! In his
+position as Sir Digby, the great engineer, he must have met in society
+many persons who knew him. We have evidence that he constantly moved in
+the best circles in Mayfair, and apparently without the slightest
+compunction. Yet, in contradiction, we have the remarkable fact that the
+real Sir Digby died in South America in very mysterious and tragic
+circumstances."
+
+I saw that a problem was presented to Inspector Edwards which sorely
+puzzled him, as it certainly did myself.
+
+"Well," I asked after a pause, and then with some trepidation put the
+question, "what do you intend doing?"
+
+"Doing!" he echoed. "There is but one course to pursue. We must get in
+touch with this woman who says she knows the truth, and obtain what
+information we can from her. Perhaps she can reveal the identity of the
+woman whose fingers touched that glass-topped table in the room where
+the crime was committed. If so, that will tell us a great deal, Mr.
+Royle." Then, taking a cigarette from his pocket and tapping it, he
+added, "Do you know, I've been wondering of late how it is that you got
+those finger-prints which so exactly corresponded with the ones which we
+secured in the flat. How did you obtain them?"
+
+His question non-plussed me.
+
+"I had a suspicion," I replied in a faltering voice, "and I tried to
+corroborate it."
+
+"But you have corroborated it," he declared. "Why, Mr. Royle, those
+prints you brought to the Yard are a most important clue. Where did you
+get them?"
+
+I was silent for a moment, jostled by the crowd of passers-by.
+
+"Well," I said with a faint smile, realising what a grave mistake I had
+made in inculpating my well-beloved, "I simply made some experiments as
+an amateur in solving the mystery."
+
+"Yes, but those prints were the same as those we got from the flat.
+Whence did they come?"
+
+"I obtained them upon my own initiative," I replied, with a forced laugh.
+
+"But you must surely tell me, Mr. Royle," he urged quickly. "It's a most
+important point."
+
+"No," I replied. "I'm not a detective, remember. I simply put to the test
+a suspicion I have entertained."
+
+"Suspicion of what?"
+
+"Whether my theory was correct or not."
+
+"Whatever theory you hold, Mr. Royle, the truth remains the same. I
+truly believe," he said, looking hard at me, "namely that the unknown
+victim was struck down by the hand which imprinted the marks you brought
+to me--a woman's hand. And if I am not mistaken, sir--you know the
+identity of the guilty woman!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+CONCERNS MRS. PETRE.
+
+
+Days, weeks, passed, but I could obtain no further clue. The month of
+March lengthened into April, but we were as far as ever from a solution
+of the mystery.
+
+Since my return from Brussels I had, of course seen Phrida many, many
+times, and though I had never reverted again to the painful subject, yet
+her manner and bearing showed only too plainly that she existed in
+constant dread!
+
+Her face had become thin and haggard, with dark rings around her eyes and
+upon it was a wild, hunted expression, which she strove to disguise, but
+in vain.
+
+She now treated me with a strange, cold indifference, so unlike her real
+self, while her attitude was one of constant attention and strained
+alertness.
+
+The woman Petre had apparently not been approached by Scotland Yard,
+therefore as the days went by I became more and more anxious to see her,
+to speak with her--and, if necessary, to come to terms with her.
+
+Therefore, without a word to anyone, I one evening caught the six o'clock
+train from Liverpool Street, and before eight was eating my dinner in the
+big upstairs room of The Cups Hotel, while the hall-porter was
+endeavouring to discover for me the whereabouts of Melbourne House.
+
+I had nearly finished my meal when the uniformed servant entered, cap in
+hand, saying:
+
+"I've found, sir, that the house you've been inquiring for is out on the
+road to Marks Tey, about a mile. An old lady named Miss Morgan lived
+there for many years, but she died last autumn, and the place has, they
+say, been let furnished to a lady--a Mrs. Petre. Is that the lady you are
+trying to find?"
+
+"It certainly is," I replied, much gratified at the man's success. Then,
+placing a tip in his palm, I drank off my coffee, put on my overcoat, and
+descended to the taxi which he had summoned for me.
+
+He gave directions to the driver, and soon we were whirling along the
+broad streets of Colchester, and out of the town on the dark, open road
+which led towards London. Presently we pulled up, and getting out, I
+found myself before a long, low, ivy-covered house standing back behind a
+high hedge of clipped box, which divided the small, bare front garden
+from the road. Lonely and completely isolated, it stood on the top of a
+hill with high, leafless trees behind, and on the left a thick copse. In
+front were wide, bare, open fields.
+
+Opening the iron gate I walked up the gravelled path to the door and
+rang. In a window on the right a light showed, and as I listened I heard
+the tramp of a man's foot upon the oilcloth of the hall, and next moment
+the door was unlocked and opened.
+
+A tall, thin-faced young man of somewhat sallow complexion confronted me.
+He had keen, deep-set eyes, broad forehead, and pointed chin.
+
+"Is Mrs. Petre at home?" I inquired briefly.
+
+In a second he looked at me as though with distrust, then apparently
+seeing the taxi waiting, and satisfying himself that I was a person of
+respectability, he replied in a refined voice:
+
+"I really don't know, but I'll see, if you will step in?" and he ushered
+me into a small room at the rear of the house, a cosy but
+plainly-furnished little sitting-room, wherein a wood fire burned with
+pleasant glow.
+
+I handed him my card and sat down to wait, in the meanwhile inspecting my
+surroundings with some curiosity.
+
+Now, even as I recall that night, I cannot tell why I should have
+experienced such a sense of grave insecurity as I did when I sat there
+awaiting the woman's coming. I suppose we all of us possess in some
+degree that strange intuition of impending danger. It was so with me that
+night--just as I have on other occasions been obsessed by that curious,
+indescribable feeling that "something is about to happen."
+
+There was about that house an air of mystery which caused me to hesitate
+in suspicion. Whether it was owing to its lonely position, to the heavy
+mantle of ivy which hid its walls, to the rather weird and unusual
+appearance of the young man who had admitted me, or to the mere fact that
+I was there to meet the woman who undoubtedly knew the truth concerning
+the tragic affair, I know not. But I recollect a distinct feeling of
+personal insecurity.
+
+I knew the woman I was about to meet to be a cold, hard, unscrupulous
+person, who, no doubt, held my love's liberty--perhaps her life--in the
+hollow of her hand.
+
+That horrifying thought had just crossed my mind when my reflections were
+interrupted by the door opening suddenly and there swept into the room
+the lady upon whom I had called.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle!" she cried in warm welcome, extending her rather large
+hand as she stood before me, dressed quietly in black, relieved by a
+scarlet, artificial rose in her waistband. "So you've come at last. Ah!
+do you know I've wanted to meet you for days. I expected you would come
+to me the moment you returned from Brussels."
+
+I started, and stood staring at her without replying. She knew I had been
+to Belgium. Yet, as far as I was aware, nobody knew of my visit--not even
+Haines.
+
+"You certainly seem very well acquainted with my movements, Mrs. Petre,"
+I laughed.
+
+But she only shrugged her shoulders. Then she said:
+
+"I suppose there was no secrecy regarding your journey, was there?"
+
+"Not in the least," I replied. "I had business over there, as I very
+often have. My firm do a big business in Belgium and Holland."
+
+She smiled incredulously.
+
+"Did your business necessitate your visiting all the hotels and
+music-halls?"
+
+"How did you know that?" I asked in quick surprise.
+
+But she only pursed her lips, refusing to give me satisfaction. I saw
+that I must have been watched--perhaps by Digby himself. The only
+explanation I could think of was that he, with his clever cunning, had
+watched me, and had written to this woman, his accomplice, telling her of
+my search.
+
+"Oh! don't betray the source of your information if you consider it so
+indiscreet," I said with sarcasm a few moments later. "I came here, Mrs.
+Petre, in response to your invitation. You wished to see me?"
+
+"I did. But I fear it is now too late to avert what I had intended," was
+her quiet response. The door was closed, the room was silent, and we were
+alone.
+
+Seated in an armchair the woman leaned back and gazed at me strangely
+from beneath her long, half-closed lashes, as though undecided what she
+should say. I instantly detected her hesitation, and said:
+
+"You told me in your message that something unexpected had occurred. What
+is it? Does it concern our mutual friend, Digby?"
+
+"Friend!" she echoed. "You call him your friend, and yet at the same time
+you have been in search of him, intending to betray him to the police!"
+
+"Such was certainly not my intention," I declared firmly. "I admit that I
+have endeavoured to find him, but it was because I wished to speak with
+him."
+
+"Ah! of course," she sneered. "That girl Shand has, perhaps, made a
+statement to you, and now you want to be inquisitive, eh? She's been
+trying to clear herself by telling you some fairy-tale or another, I
+suppose?"
+
+"I repeat, Mrs. Petre," I said with anger, "I have no desire nor
+intention to act towards Digby in any way other than with friendliness."
+
+"Ah! You expect me to believe that, my dear sir," she laughed, snapping
+her fingers airily. "No, that girl is his enemy, and I am hers."
+
+"And that is the reason why you have sent the anonymous letter to the
+police!" I said in a low, hard voice, my eyes full upon her.
+
+She started at my words.
+
+"What letter?" she asked, in pretence of ignorance.
+
+"The one mentioned at the adjourned inquest at Kensington," I replied.
+"The one in which you offer to sell the life of the woman I love!"
+
+"So you know she is guilty--eh?" the woman asked. "She has confessed it
+to you--has she not?"
+
+"No. She is innocent," I cried. "I will never believe in her guilt until
+it is proved."
+
+"Then it will not be long, Mr. Royle, before you will have quite
+sufficient proof," she replied with a triumphant smile upon her lips.
+
+"You are prepared to sell those proofs, I understand," I said, suddenly
+assuming an air of extreme gravity. "Now, I'm a business man. If you wish
+to dispose of this information, why not sell it to me?"
+
+She laughed in my face.
+
+"No, not to you, my dear sir. My business is with the police, not with
+the girl's lover," was her quick response.
+
+"But the price," I said. "I will outbid the police if necessary."
+
+"No doubt you would be only too glad of the chance of saving the girl who
+has so cleverly deceived you. But, without offence, Mr. Royle, I
+certainly think you are a fool to act as you are now acting," she added.
+"A foul crime of jealousy has been committed, and the assassin must pay
+the penalty of her crime."
+
+"And you allege jealousy as the motive?" I gasped.
+
+"Most certainly," she answered. Then, after a pause of a few seconds, she
+added--"The girl you have so foolishly trusted and in whom you still
+believe so implicitly, left her home in Cromwell Road in the night, as
+she had often done before, and walked round to Harrington Gardens in
+order to see Digby. There, in his rooms, she met her rival--she had
+suspicions and went there on purpose armed with a knife. And with it she
+struck the girl down, and killed her."
+
+"It's a lie!" I cried, starting to my feet. "A foul, wicked lie!"
+
+"But what I say can be proved."
+
+"At a price," I said bitterly.
+
+"As you are a business man, so I am a business woman, Mr. Royle," she
+replied quite calmly. "When I see an opportunity of making money, I do
+not hesitate to seize it."
+
+"But if you know the truth--if this is the actual truth which at present
+I will not believe--then it is your duty, nay, you are bound by law to go
+to the police and tell them what you know."
+
+"I shall do that, never fear," she laughed. "But first I shall try and
+get something for my trouble."
+
+"And whom do you intend to bring up as witness against Miss Shand?" I
+asked.
+
+"Wait and see. There will be a witness--an eye-witness, who was present,
+and whose evidence will be corroborated," she declared in due course
+with a self-satisfied air. "I have not resolved to reveal the truth
+without fully reviewing the situation. When the police know--as they
+certainly will--you will then find that I have not lied, and perhaps you
+will alter your opinion of the girl you now hold in such high esteem."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+DISCLOSES THE TRAP.
+
+
+The woman's words held me speechless.
+
+She seemed so cold, so determined, so certain of her facts that I felt,
+when I came to consider what I already had proved, that she was actually
+telling me the ghastly truth.
+
+And yet I loved Phrida. No. I refused to allow my suspicions to be
+increased by this woman who had approached the police openly and asked
+for payment for her information.
+
+She was Phrida's enemy. Therefore it was my duty to treat her as such,
+and in a moment I had decided upon my course of action.
+
+"So I am to take it that both Digby and yourself are antagonistic towards
+Phrida Shand?" I exclaimed, leaning against the round mahogany table and
+facing her.
+
+She did not speak for a few seconds, then, springing to her feet,
+exclaimed:
+
+"Would you excuse me for a few seconds? I forgot to give an order to my
+servant who is just going out."
+
+And she bustled from the room, leaving me alone with my own confused
+thoughts.
+
+Ah! The puzzling problem was maddening me. In my investigations I now
+found myself in a cul-de-sac from which there seemed no escape. The net,
+cleverly woven without a doubt, was slowly closing about my poor darling,
+now so pale, and anxious, and trembling.
+
+Had she not already threatened to take her own life at first sign of
+suspicion being cast upon her by the police!
+
+Was that not in itself, alas! a sign that her secret was a guilty one?
+
+I knew not what to do, or how to act.
+
+I suppose my hostess had been absent for about five minutes when the door
+suddenly re-opened, and she entered.
+
+"When we were interrupted, Mrs. Petre," I said, as she advanced towards
+me, "I was asking you a plain question. Please give me a plain reply. You
+and Phrida Shand are enemies, are you not?"
+
+"Well, we are not exactly friends," she laughed, "after all that has
+occurred. I think I told you that in London."
+
+"I remember all that you told me," I replied. "But I want to know the
+true position, if--whether we are friends, or enemies? For myself, it
+matters not. I will be your friend with just as great a satisfaction as I
+will be your enemy. Now, let us understand each other. I have told you,
+I'm a man of business."
+
+The woman, clever and resourceful, smiled sweetly, and in a calm voice
+replied:
+
+"Really, Mr. Royle, I don't see why, after all, we should be enemies,
+that is, if what you tell me is the positive truth, that you owe my
+friend Digby no ill-will."
+
+"I owe no man ill-will until his perfidy is proved," was my reply. "I
+merely went to Brussels to try and find him and request an explanation.
+He charged me with a mission which I discharged with the best of my
+ability, but which, it seems, has only brought upon me a grave
+calamity--the loss of the one I love. Hence I am entitled to some
+explanation from his own lips!"
+
+"Which I promise you that you shall have in due course. So rest assured
+upon that point," she urged. "But that is in the future. We are, however,
+discussing the present. By the way--you'll take something to drink, won't
+you?"
+
+"No, thank you," I protested.
+
+"But you must have something. I'm sorry I have no whisky to offer you,
+but I have some rather decent port," and disregarding my repeated
+protests, she rang the bell, whereupon the young man who had admitted
+me--whom I now found to my surprise to be a servant--entered and bowed.
+
+"Bring some port," his mistress ordered, and a few moments later he
+reappeared with a decanter and glasses upon a silver tray.
+
+She poured me out a glass, but refused to have any herself.
+
+"No, no," she laughed, "at my time of life port wine would only make me
+fat--and Heaven knows I'm growing horribly stout now. You don't know, Mr.
+Royle, what horror we women have of stoutness. In men it is a sign of
+ease and prosperity, in women it is suggestive of alcoholism and puts ten
+years on their ages."
+
+Out of politeness, I raised my glass to her and drank. Her demeanour had
+altered, and we were now becoming friends, a fact which delighted me,
+for I saw I might, by the exercise of a little judicious diplomacy, act
+so as to secure protection for Phrida.
+
+While we were chatting, I suddenly heard the engine of my taxi started,
+and the clutch put in with a jerk.
+
+"Why!" I exclaimed, surprised. "I believe that's my taxi going away. I
+hope the man isn't tired of waiting!"
+
+"No. I think it is my servant. I 'phoned for a cab for her, as I want her
+to take a message into Colchester," Mrs. Petre replied. Then, settling
+herself in the big chair, she asked:
+
+"Now, why can't we be friends, Mr. Royle?"
+
+"That I am only too anxious to be," I declared.
+
+"It is only your absurd infatuation for Phrida Shand that prevents you,"
+she said. "Ah!" she sighed. "How grossly that girl has deceived you!"
+
+I bit my lip. My suspicions were surely bitter enough without the sore
+being re-opened by this woman.
+
+Had not Phrida's admissions been a self-condemnation to which, even
+though loving her as fervently as I did, I could not altogether blind
+myself.
+
+I did not speak. My heart was too full, and strangely enough my head
+seemed swimming, but certainly not on account of the wine I had drunk,
+for I had not swallowed more than half the glass contained.
+
+The little room seemed to suddenly become stifling. Yet that woman with
+the dark eyes seemed to watch me intently as I sat there, watch me with a
+strange, deep, evil glance--an expression of fierce animosity which even
+at that moment she could not conceal.
+
+She had openly avowed that the hand of my well-beloved had killed the
+unknown victim because of jealousy. Well, when I considered all the facts
+calmly and deliberately, her words certainly seemed to bear the impress
+of truth.
+
+Phrida had confessed to me that, rather than face inquiry and
+condemnation she would take her own life. Was not that in itself
+sufficient evidence of guilt?
+
+But no! I strove to put such thoughts behind me. My brain was awhirl,
+nay, even aflame, for gradually there crept over me a strange, uncanny
+feeling of giddiness such as I had never before experienced, a faint,
+sinking feeling, as though the chair was giving way beneath me.
+
+"I don't know why, but I'm feeling rather unwell," I remarked to my
+hostess. Surely it could not be due to my overwrought senses and my
+strained anxiety for Phrida's safety.
+
+"Oh! Perhaps it's the heat of the room," the woman replied. "This place
+gets unpleasantly warm at night. You'll be better in a minute or two, no
+doubt. I'll run and get some smelling salts. It is really terribly close
+in here," and, rising quickly, she left me alone.
+
+I remember that instantly she had disappeared a red mist gathered before
+my eyes, and with a fearful feeling of asphyxiation I struggled
+violently, and fell back exhausted into my chair, while my limbs grew
+suddenly icy cold, though my brow was burning.
+
+To what could it be due?
+
+I recollect striving to think, to recall facts, to reason within myself,
+but in vain. My thoughts were so confused that grim, weird shadows and
+grotesque forms arose within my imagination. Scenes, ludicrous and
+tragic, wildly fantastic and yet horrible, were conjured up in my
+disordered brain, and with them all, pains--excruciating pains, which
+shot through from the sockets of my eyes to the back of my skull,
+inflicting upon me tortures indescribable.
+
+I set my teeth in determination not to lose consciousness beneath the
+strain, and my eyes were fixed upon the wall opposite. I remember now the
+exact pattern of the wallpaper, a design of pale blue trellis-work with
+crimson rambler roses.
+
+I suppose I must have remained in that position, sunk into a heap in the
+chair, for fully five minutes, though to me it seemed hours when I
+suddenly became conscious of the presence of persons behind me.
+
+I tried to move--to turn and look--but found that every muscle in my body
+had become paralysed. I could not lift a finger, neither would my lips
+articulate any sound other than a gurgle when I tried to cry out. And yet
+I remained in a state of consciousness, half blotted out by those weird,
+fantastic and dreamy shapes, due apparently to the effect of that wine
+upon my brain.
+
+Had I been deliberately poisoned? The startling truth flashed across my
+mind just as I heard a low stealthy movement behind me.
+
+Yes. I was helpless there, in the hands of my enemies. I, wary as I
+believed myself to be, had fallen into a trap cunningly prepared by that
+clever woman who was Digby's accomplice.
+
+I now believed all that Edwards had told me of the man's cunning and his
+imposture. How that he had assumed the identity of a clever and renowned
+man who had died so mysteriously in South America. Perhaps he had killed
+him--who could tell?
+
+As these bitter thoughts regarding the man whom I had looked upon as a
+friend flitted through my brain, I saw to my amazement, standing boldly
+before me, the woman Petre with two men, one a dark-bearded,
+beetle-browed, middle-aged man of Hindu type--a half-caste
+probably--while the other was the young man who had admitted me.
+
+The Hindu bent until his scraggy whiskers almost touched my cheek,
+looking straight into my eyes with keen, intent gaze, but without
+speaking.
+
+I saw that the young man had carried a small deal box about eighteen
+inches square, which he had placed upon the round mahogany table in the
+centre of the room.
+
+This table the woman pushed towards my chair until I was seated before
+it. But she hardly gave me a glance.
+
+I tried to speak, to inquire the reason of such strange proceedings, but
+it seemed that the drug which had been given me in that wine had produced
+entire muscular paralysis. I could not move, neither could I speak. My
+brain was on fire and swimming, yet I remained perfectly conscious,
+horrified to find myself so utterly and entirely helpless.
+
+The sallow-faced man, in whose black eyes was an evil, murderous look,
+and upon whose thin lips there played a slight, but triumphant smile,
+took both my arms and laid them straight upon the table.
+
+I tried with all my power to move them, but to no purpose. As he placed
+them, so they remained.
+
+Then, for the first time, the woman spoke, and addressing me, said in a
+hard, harsh tone:
+
+"You are Digby's enemy, and mine, Mr. Royle. Therefore you will now see
+the manner in which we treat those who endeavour to thwart our ends. You
+have been brave, but your valour has not availed you much. The secret of
+Digby Kemsley is still a secret--and will ever be a secret," she added in
+a slow, meaning voice.
+
+And as she uttered those words the half-bred Indian took my head in his
+hands and forced my body forward until my head rested upon the table
+between my outstretched arms.
+
+Again I tried to raise myself, and to utter protest, but only a low
+gurgling escaped my parched lips. My jaws were set and I could not move
+them.
+
+Ah! the situation was the strangest in which I have ever found myself in
+all my life.
+
+Suddenly, while my head lay upon the polished table I saw the Hindu put a
+short double-reed pipe to his mouth, and next instant the room was filled
+with weird, shrill music, while at the same moment he unfastened the side
+of the little box and let down the hinged flap.
+
+Again the native music sounded more shrill than before, while the woman
+and the young man-servant had retreated backward towards the door, their
+eyes fixed upon the mysterious box upon the table.
+
+I, too, had my eyes upon the box.
+
+Suddenly I caught sight of something within, and next second held my
+breath, realising the horrible torture that was intended.
+
+I lay there helpless, powerless to draw back and save myself.
+
+Again the sounds of the pipe rose and then died away slowly in a long
+drawn-out wail.
+
+My eyes were fixed upon that innocent-looking little box in horror and
+fascination.
+
+Ah! Something moved again within.
+
+I saw it--saw it quite plainly.
+
+I tried to cry out--to protest, to shout for help. But in vain.
+
+Surely this woman's vengeance was indeed a fiendish and relentless one.
+
+My face was not more than a foot away from the mysterious box, and when I
+fully realised, in my terror, what was intended, I think my brain must
+have given way.
+
+I became insane!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE SEAL OF SILENCE.
+
+
+Yes, there was no doubt about it. Terror and horror had driven me mad.
+
+And surely the deadly peril in which I found myself was in itself
+sufficient to cause the cheek of the bravest man to pale, for from that
+box there slowly issued forth a large, hideous cobra, which, coiling with
+sinuous slowness in front of my face held its hooded head erect, ready to
+strike.
+
+While the Hindu played that weird music on the pipes its head with the
+two beady eyes and flickering tongue, moved slowly to and fro. It was
+watching me and ready to deal its fatal blow.
+
+The woman saw the perspiration standing upon my white brow, and burst out
+laughing, still standing at a safe distance near the door.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle, you won't have much further opportunity of
+investigation," she exclaimed. "You have become far too inquisitive, and
+you constitute a danger--hence this action. I'm very sorry, but it must
+be so," declared the brutal, inhuman woman.
+
+She was watching, gloating over her triumph; waiting, indeed, for my
+death.
+
+Surely I was not their first victim! All had been carried out in a method
+which showed that the paralysing drug and the deadly reptile had been
+used before by this strange trio.
+
+The music, now being played incessantly, apparently prevented the snake
+from darting at me, as it was, no doubt, under the hypnotic influence of
+its master. But I knew that the moment the music ceased it would be my
+last.
+
+With frantic efforts I struggled to withdraw my head and hands from the
+reptile's reach, but every muscle seemed powerless. I could not budge an
+inch.
+
+Again I tried to speak, to shout for help, but no word could I
+articulate. I was dead in all save consciousness.
+
+"Oh, yes," laughed Mrs. Petre hoarsely; "we're just playing you a little
+music--to send you to sleep--to put the seal of silence upon you, Mr.
+Royle. And I hope you'll sleep very well to-night--very well--as no doubt
+you will!" and she gave vent to a loud peal of harsh laughter.
+
+Then, for a moment she hesitated, until suddenly she cried to the Hindu:
+
+"Enough!"
+
+The music ceased instantly, and the snake, whose hooded head had been
+swaying to and fro slowly, suddenly shot up erect.
+
+The spell of the music was broken, and I knew my doom was sealed.
+
+Those small, brilliant eyes were fastened upon mine, staring straight at
+me, the head moving very slowly, while those three brutes actually
+watched my agony of terror, and exchanged smiles as they waited for the
+reptile to strike its fatal blow.
+
+In an instant its fangs would, I knew, be in my face, and into my blood
+would be injected that deadly venom which must inevitably prove fatal.
+
+Yes, I had been entrapped, and they held the honours in the game. After
+my death Phrida would be denounced, accused, and convicted as an
+assassin. Because, perhaps, I might be a witness in her favour, or even
+assist her to escape arrest, this woman had taken the drastic step of
+closing my lips for ever.
+
+But was it with Digby's knowledge? Had he ever been her accomplice in
+similar deeds to this?
+
+Suddenly I recollected with a start what Edwards had told me--that the
+real Sir Digby Kemsley, an invalid, had died of snake-bite in mysterious
+circumstances, in Peru; and that his friend, a somewhat shady Englishman
+named Cane, had been suspected of placing the reptile near him, owing to
+the shouts of terror of the doomed man being overheard by a Peruvian
+man-servant.
+
+Was it possible that the man whom I had known as Digby was actually Cane?
+
+The method of the snake was the same as that practised at Huacho!
+
+These, and other thoughts, flashed across my brain in an instant, for I
+knew that the agony of a fearful death would be quickly upon me.
+
+I tried to utter a curse upon those three brutes who stood looking on
+without raising a hand to save me, but still I could not speak.
+
+Suddenly, something black shot across my startled eyes. The reptile had
+darted.
+
+The horror of that moment held me transfixed.
+
+I felt a sharp sting upon my left cheek, and next instant, petrified by a
+terror indescribable, I lost consciousness.
+
+What happened afterwards I have no idea. I can only surmise.
+
+How long I remained senseless I cannot tell. All I am aware of is that
+when I returned to a knowledge of things about me I had a feeling that my
+limbs were benumbed and cramped. Against my head was a cold, slimy wall,
+and my body was lying in water.
+
+For a time, dazed as I was, I could not distinguish my position. My
+thoughts were all confused; all seemed pitch darkness, and the silence
+was complete save for the slow trickling of water somewhere near my head.
+
+I must have lain there a full hour, slowly gathering my senses. The back
+of my head was very sore, for it seemed as though I had received a heavy
+blow, while my elbows and knees seemed cut and bruised.
+
+In the close darkness I tried to discover where I was, but my brain was
+swimming with an excruciating pain in the top of my skull.
+
+Slowly, very slowly, recollections of the past came back to
+me--remembrance of that terrible, final half-hour.
+
+Yes, Joy! I was still alive; the loathsome reptile's fang had not
+produced death. It may have bitten some object and evacuated its venom
+just prior to biting me. That was the theory which occurred to me, and I
+believe it to be the correct one.
+
+I could raise my hand, too. I was no longer paralysed. I could speak. I
+shouted, but my voice seemed deadened and stifled.
+
+On feeling my head I found that I had a long scalp-wound, upon which the
+blood was congealed. My clothes were rent, and as I groped about I
+quickly found that my prison was a circular wall of stone, wet and
+slimy, about four feet across, and that I was half reclining in water
+with soft, yielding mud beneath me, while the air seemed close and foul.
+
+The roof above me seemed high, for my voice appeared to ascend very far.
+I looked above me and high up, so high that I could only just distinguish
+it was a tiny ray of light--the light of day.
+
+With frantic fingers I felt those circular walls, thick with the
+encrustations and slime of ages. Then all of a sudden the truth flashed
+upon me. My enemies, believing me dead, had thrown me down a well!
+
+I shouted and shouted, yelled again and again. But my voice only echoed
+high up, and no one came to my assistance.
+
+My legs, immersed as they were in icy-cold water, were cramped and
+benumbed, so that I had no feeling in them, while my hands were wet and
+cold, and my head hot as fire.
+
+As far as I could judge in the darkness, the well must have been fully
+eighty feet or so deep, and after I had been flung headlong down it the
+wooden trap-door had been re-closed. It was through the chink between the
+two flaps that I could see the blessed light of day.
+
+I shouted again, yelling with all my might: "Help! Help!" in the hope
+that somebody in the vicinity might hear me and investigate.
+
+I was struggling in order to shift into a more comfortable position, and
+in doing so my feet sank deeper into the mud at the bottom of the
+well--the accumulation of many years, no doubt.
+
+Two perils faced me--starvation, or the rising of the water: for if it
+should rain above, the water percolating through the earth would cause it
+to rise in the well and overwhelm me. By the dampness of the wall I
+could feel that it was not long since the water was much higher than my
+head, as I now stood upright.
+
+Would assistance come?
+
+My heart sank within me when I thought of the possibility that I had been
+precipitated into the well in the garden of Melbourne House, in which
+case I could certainly not hope for succour.
+
+Again I put out my hands, frantically groping about me, when something I
+touched in the darkness caused me to withdraw my hand with a start.
+
+Cautiously I felt again. My eager fingers touched it, for it seemed to be
+floating on the surface of the water. It was cold, round, and long--the
+body of a snake!
+
+I drew my hand away. Its contact thrilled me.
+
+The cobra had been killed and flung in after me! In that case the
+precious trio had, without a doubt, fled.
+
+Realisation of the utter hopelessness of the situation sent a cold
+shudder through me. I had miraculously escaped death by the snake's
+fangs, and was I now to die of starvation deep in that narrow well?
+
+Again and again I shouted with all my might, straining my eyes to that
+narrow chink which showed so far above. Would assistance never come? I
+felt faint and hungry, while my wounds gave me considerable pain, and my
+head throbbed so that I felt it would burst at any moment.
+
+I found a large stone in the mud, and with it struck hard against the
+wall. But the sound was not such as might attract the attention of
+anybody who happened to be near the vicinity of the well. Therefore I
+shouted and shouted again until my voice grew hoarse, and I was
+compelled to desist on account of my exhaustion.
+
+For fully another half-hour I was compelled to remain in impatience and
+anxiety in order to recover my voice and strength for, weak as I was, the
+exertion had almost proved too much for me. So I stood there with my back
+to the slimy wall, water reaching beyond my knees, waiting and hoping
+against hope.
+
+At last I shouted again, as loudly as before, but, alas! only the weird
+echo came back to me in the silence of that deeply-sunk shaft. I felt
+stifled, but, fortunately for me, the air was not foul.
+
+Yes, my assassins had hidden me, together with the repulsive instrument
+of their crime, in that disused well, confident that no one would descend
+to investigate and discover my remains. How many persons, I wonder, are
+yearly thrown down wells where the water is known to be impure, or where
+the existence of the well itself is a secret to all but the assassin?
+
+I saw it all now. My taxi-man must have been paid and dismissed by that
+thin-faced young man, yet how cleverly the woman had evaded my question,
+and how glib her explanation of her servant going into the town in a
+taxi.
+
+When she had risen from her chair and left me, it was, no doubt, to
+swiftly arrange how my death should be encompassed.
+
+Surely that isolated, ivy-covered house was a house of grim shadows--nay,
+a house of death--for I certainly was not the first person who had been
+foully done to death within its walls.
+
+As I waited, trying to possess myself with patience, and hoping against
+hope that I might still be rescued from my living tomb, the little streak
+of light grew brighter high above, as though the wintry sun was shining.
+
+I strained my ears to catch any sound beyond the slow trickling of the
+water from the spring, but, alas! could distinguish nothing.
+
+Suddenly, however, I heard a dull report above, followed quickly by a
+second, and then another in the distance, and another. At first I
+listened much puzzled; but next moment I realised the truth.
+
+There was a shooting-party in the vicinity!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+FROM THE TOMB.
+
+
+Again I shouted--yelled aloud with all my might. I placed my hands to my
+mouth, making a trumpet of them, and shouted upwards:
+
+"Help! For God's sake! Help! I'm down here--dying! Help!--_Help!_"
+
+A dozen times I yelled my appeal, but with the same negative result.
+Whoever had fired in the vicinity was either too far away, or too
+occupied with his sport to hear me.
+
+I heard another shot fired--more distant than the rest. Then my heart
+sank within me--the party were receding.
+
+I don't know how long I waited--perhaps another hour--when I thought I
+would try again. Therefore I recommenced my shouts for assistance,
+yelling frantically towards the high-up opening.
+
+Suddenly the streak of light became obscured, and dust and gravel fell
+upon me, the latter striking my head with great force from such a height.
+
+I heard a noise above--a footstep upon the wooden flap of the well. My
+heart gave a bound.
+
+"Help!" I yelled. "Open the well! I'm down here--dying. Save me! Fetch
+assistance!"
+
+The feet above moved, and a moment later I saw above me a round disc of
+daylight and a head--a girl's head--silhouetted within it.
+
+"Who's there?" she asked in a timid, half-frightened voice.
+
+"It's me!" I cried. "Get me out of this! I'm dying. Get me a rope or
+something, quickly!"
+
+"Who are you?" asked the girl, still frightened at her discovery.
+
+"I'm a man who's been thrown down here, and I can't get out. Get somebody
+to help me, I beg of you!"
+
+"All right!" she replied. "There's some men, shooting here. I'll run and
+tell them."
+
+And her face disappeared from the disc of daylight.
+
+At last! Help was forthcoming, and I breathed more freely.
+
+I suppose about five minutes must have elapsed before I saw above me the
+heads of two men in golf-caps, peering over the edge of the well.
+
+"Hulloa!" cried one in a refined voice, "what are you doing down there?"
+
+"Doing!" I echoed, "you should come down and see!" I said with some
+sarcasm. "But, I say! Send me down a rope, will you? I'm a prisoner
+here."
+
+"Have you been thrown in there?" asked the voice. "This lady says you
+have."
+
+"Yes, I have. I'll tell you a strange story when you get me out."
+
+"All right!" exclaimed the other. "Hold on! We'll go over to the farm and
+get a rope. Why, I was here half-an-hour ago, and never dreamt you were
+down there. Hold on!"
+
+And the two faces disappeared, their places being taken by the silhouette
+of the girl.
+
+"I say!" I cried. "Where am I? What do they call this place?"
+
+"Well, this is one of the fields of Coppin's Farm, just outside Lexden
+Park."
+
+"Do you know Melbourne House?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, yes. Miss Morgan's. She's dead," replied the girl's voice from
+above. "It's out on the high road--close by."
+
+"Is this well in the middle of a field, then?" I asked.
+
+"In the corner. Some old, half-ruined cottages stood here till a couple
+of years ago, when they were pulled down."
+
+"And this was the well belonging to them?"
+
+"I suppose so," she replied, and a few minutes later I heard voices and
+saw several heads peering down at me, while now and then gravel fell upon
+my unprotected head, causing me to put my hands up to protect it.
+
+"I say!" cried the man's voice who had first addressed me, "We're sending
+down a rope. Can you fasten it round you, and then we'll haul you up? I
+expect you're in a pretty state, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes; I'm not very presentable, I fear," I laughed.
+
+Then down came a stout farmer's rope, several lengths of which were
+knotted together after some delay, until its end dangled before me.
+
+"I hope you've joined it all right," I cried. "I don't want to drop
+down!"
+
+"No, it's all right!" one of the men--evidently a labourer--declared.
+"You needn't fear, mister."
+
+I made a knot in the end, then, placing it around both my thighs, made a
+slip knot and clung to the rope above. This took me some minutes. Then,
+when all was ready, I gave the signal to haul.
+
+"Slowly!" I shouted, for I was swinging from side to side of the well,
+bruising my elbows and knees. "Haul slower! I'm getting smashed to
+pieces!"
+
+They heeded me, and with care I was gradually drawn up to the blessed
+light of day--a light which, for a few minutes, nearly blinded me, so
+exhausted and dazed was I.
+
+Naturally I was beset by a hundred queries as to how I came to be
+imprisoned in such a place.
+
+But I sat down upon the ground, a strange, begrimed and muddy figure, no
+doubt, gazing about me for a few moments unable to speak.
+
+I was in the corner of a bare, brown field, with a high hedgerow close
+by. Around were the foundations of demolished cottages, and I was seated
+upon a heap of brick-rubbish and plaster.
+
+The two who were dressed in rough, shooting kit I took to be military
+men, while three others were farm-hands, and the girl--a tall, rather
+good-looking open-air girl, was dressed in a short, tweed skirt,
+well-cut, a thick jacket, a soft felt hat, and heavy, serviceable boots.
+No second glance was needed to show that, although so roughly dressed,
+she was undoubtedly a lady.
+
+One of the men called her Maisie, and later I knew that her name was
+Maisie Morrice, that she was his sister, who had been walking with the
+"guns."
+
+My presence down the well certainly needed explanation, and as they had
+rescued me, it was necessary to satisfy their natural curiosity.
+
+"I had a curious adventure here last night," I told them, after pausing
+to take breath. "I came from London to see a lady living at Melbourne
+House. A lady named Petre--but I was given some drugged wine, and--well,
+when I came to I found myself down there. That's all."
+
+"A very unpleasant experience, I should say," remarked the elder of the
+two sportsmen, a tall, grey-moustached man, as he surveyed me. "I suppose
+you'll go back to Melbourne House and get even with the lady? I would!"
+
+"Melbourne House!" echoed the other man. "Why, Maisie, that's where old
+Miss Morgan lived, and it's been taken by some woman with an Indian
+servant, hasn't it?"
+
+"Yes," replied the girl. "She's been there a month or two, but quite a
+mystery. Nobody has called on her. Mother wouldn't let me."
+
+"Apparently she's not a very desirable acquaintance," remarked her
+brother grimly.
+
+"I want to go there," I said feebly, trying to rise.
+
+"You seem to have hurt your head pretty badly," remarked the elder
+sportsman. "I suppose you'd better go into Colchester and see the
+police--eh?"
+
+"I'll drive him in, sir," volunteered one of the men, whom I took to be
+the farmer.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Cuppin," exclaimed the girl. "Get your trap and drive this
+gentleman to the doctor and the police."
+
+"Thank you," I replied. "But I don't want the people at Melbourne House
+to know that I'm alive. They believe me dead, and it will be a pretty
+surprise for them when I return, after seeing the doctor. So I ask you
+all to remain silent about this affair--at least for an hour or so. Will
+you?"
+
+They all agreed to do so, and, being supported by two of the men, I made
+my way across the field to the farm; and ten minutes later was driving
+into Colchester in the farmer's dog-cart.
+
+At the "Cups" my appearance caused some sensation, but, ascending to my
+room, I quickly washed, changed my ruined suit, and made myself
+presentable, and then went to see an elderly and rather fussy doctor, who
+put on his most serious professional air, and who was probably the most
+renowned medical man in the town. The provincial medico, when he becomes
+a consultant, nearly always becomes pompous and egotistical, and in his
+own estimation is the only reliable man out of Harley Street.
+
+The man I visited was one of the usual type, a man of civic honours, with
+the aspirations of a mayoralty, I surmised. I think he believed that I
+had injured my head while in a state of intoxication, so I did not
+undeceive him, and allowed his assistant to bathe and bandage my wound
+and also the bite upon my cheek, while the farmer waited outside for me.
+
+When at last I emerged, I hesitated.
+
+Should I go to the police and tell them what had occurred? Or should I
+return alone to Melbourne House, and by my presence thwart whatever
+sinister plans might be in progress.
+
+If I went to the police I would be forced to explain much that I desired,
+at least for the present, to keep secret. And, after all, the local
+police could not render me much assistance. I might give the woman and
+her accomplices in charge for attempted murder, but would such course
+help in the solution of the Harrington Gardens affair?
+
+After a few moments' reflection I decided to drive straight to the house
+of shadows and demand an explanation of the dastardly attempt upon me.
+
+A quarter of an hour later Mr. Cuppin pulled up near the long,
+ivy-covered house, and, alighting, I made my way within the iron gate and
+up the gravelled path to the front door, where I rang.
+
+I listened attentively, and heard someone moving.
+
+Yes, the house was not empty, as I had half feared.
+
+A moment later a neat maid-servant opened the door, and regarded me with
+some surprise.
+
+"Is Mrs. Petre at home?" I inquired.
+
+"No, sir, she isn't," replied the girl with a strong East Anglian accent.
+
+"When will she be in?" I asked.
+
+"I really don't know, sir," she said. "She hasn't left word where she's
+gone."
+
+"Is anyone else at home?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"How long have you been with Mrs. Petre?" I asked, adding, in an
+apologetic tone, "I hope I'm not too inquisitive?"
+
+"I've been here about two months--ever since she took the house."
+
+"Don't you think your mistress a rather curious person?" I asked,
+slipping half-a-sovereign into her hand. She regarded the coin, and then
+looked at me with a smile of surprise and satisfaction.
+
+"I--I hardly know what you mean, sir," she faltered.
+
+"Well, I'll be quite frank with you," I said. "I'm anxious to know
+something about what company she keeps here. Last night, for instance, a
+gentleman called in a taxi. Did you see him?"
+
+"No, sir," she answered. "Mistress sent me out on an errand to the other
+side of the town, and when I came back just before half-past eleven I
+found the front door ajar, and everybody gone. And nobody's been back
+here since."
+
+After disposing of my body, then, the precious trio had fled.
+
+I knew that Phrida must now be in hourly peril of arrest--for that woman
+would, now that she believed me dead, lose not an instant in making a
+damning statement to the police regarding what had occurred on that night
+in Harrington Gardens.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+RECORDS A STRANGE STATEMENT.
+
+
+"Will you permit me to come inside a moment?" I asked the girl. "I want
+you to tell me one or two things, if you will."
+
+At first she hesitated, but having surveyed me critically and finding, I
+suppose, that I was not a tramp she opened the door wider and admitted me
+to the room wherein her mistress had entertained me on the previous
+night.
+
+I glanced quickly around. Yes, nothing had been altered. There was the
+chair in which I had sat, and the round, mahogany table upon which my
+head had laid so helplessly while the reptile, charmed by the Hindu's
+music, had sat erect with swaying head.
+
+Ah! as that terrible scene again arose before my eyes I stood horrified.
+The girl noticed my demeanour, and looked askance at me.
+
+"Does your mistress have many visitors?" I asked her. "To tell you the
+truth, I'm making these confidential inquiries on behalf of an insurance
+company in London. So you can be perfectly open with me. Mrs. Petre will
+never know that you have spoken."
+
+"Well, sir," replied the dark-eyed maid, after a pause, during which time
+she twisted her dainty little apron in her hand, "I suppose I really
+ought not to say anything, but the fact is mistress acts very curiously
+sometimes. Besides, I don't like Ali."
+
+"You mean the Indian?"
+
+"Yes. He's too crafty and cunning," she replied. "Sometimes in the middle
+of the night I wake up and hear Ali, shut up in his room, playing on his
+flute--such horrible music. And on such occasions the mistress and
+Horton, the man, are usually with him--listening to his concert, I
+suppose."
+
+"On those occasions, have there been guests in the house?" I asked
+quickly.
+
+"Once, I think about a fortnight ago, a gentleman had called earlier in
+the evening. But I did not see him."
+
+"Did you see him next morning?"
+
+"Oh, no; he did not stay the night."
+
+"But on this particular occasion, how did you know that Mrs. Petre and
+Horton were in the room with him?"
+
+"Because I listened from the top of the stairs, and could hear voices.
+The gentleman was in there too, I believe, listening to the noise of
+Ali's pipes."
+
+Had the stranger fallen a victim to the serpent, I wondered?
+
+Who could he have been, and what was his fate?
+
+"Has your mistress and her two servants left you suddenly like this
+before?" I inquired.
+
+"Never, sir. I can't make it out. They seem to have gone out with the
+gentleman who called--and evidently they left all of a hurry."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because when I got back I found that my mistress had pulled out the
+first coat and hat she could find, and had not taken even a handbag.
+Besides, if she knew she was to be absent she would have left me a note."
+And she added in a tone of resentment: "It isn't fair to leave me by
+myself in a lonely house like this!"
+
+"No, it isn't," I agreed. "But, tell me, does your mistress have many
+callers?"
+
+"Very few. She has had a visitor lately--a gentleman. He stayed a few
+days, and then left suddenly."
+
+"Young or old?"
+
+"Elderly, clean-shaven, and grey hair. She used to call him Digby."
+
+"Digby!" I echoed. "When was he here? Tell me quickly!"
+
+"Oh, about four days ago, I think. Yes--he went away last Sunday night."
+
+"Tell me all about him," I urged her. "He's a friend of mine."
+
+"Oh, then perhaps I ought not to say anything," said the girl a little
+confused.
+
+"On the contrary, you will be doing me the very greatest service if you
+tell me all that you know concerning him," I declared. "Don't think that
+anything you say will annoy me, for it won't. He was my friend, but he
+served me a very evil trick."
+
+"Well, sir," she replied, "he arrived here very late one night, and my
+mistress sat with him in the drawing-room nearly all night talking to
+him. I crept down to try and hear what was going on, but they were
+speaking so low, almost whispering, so that I could catch only a few
+words."
+
+"What did you hear?" I inquired breathlessly.
+
+"Well, from what I could gather the gentleman was in some grave
+danger--something to do with a girl. Mistress seemed very excited and
+talked about another girl, which she called Freda, or something like
+that, and then the gentleman mentioned somebody named Royle, whereon
+mistress seemed to fly into a passion. I heard her say distinctly, 'You
+are a fool, Digby! If you're not very careful you'll give the game away.'
+Then he said, 'If the truth comes out, she will suffer, not me.'"
+
+"Whom did you infer he meant by she?" I asked.
+
+"Ah, sir, that's impossible to say," was her response. "Well, they were
+alone there for hours. He seemed to be begging her to tell him something,
+but she steadily refused. And every time he mentioned the name of Royle
+she became angry and excited. Once I heard her say, 'As long as you keep
+carefully out of the way, you need not fear anything. Nobody--not even
+the girl--suspects the truth. So I don't see that you need have the
+slightest apprehension. But mind, you're going to play the straight game
+with me, Digby, or, by heaven! it will be the worse for you!'"
+
+"Then she threatened him?" I remarked.
+
+"Yes. She seemed very determined and spoke in a low, hard voice. Of
+course, I could only catch a few disjointed words, and out of them I
+tried to make sense. But I overheard sufficient to know that the visitor
+was in a state of great agitation and fear."
+
+"Did he go out much?"
+
+"All the time he was here I never knew him to go further than the
+garden," said the maid, who seemed to be unusually intelligent.
+
+"What about Ali?"
+
+"Ali was his constant companion. When they were together they spoke in
+some foreign language."
+
+A sudden thought flashed across my mind.
+
+Could Ali be a Peruvian Indian and not a Hindu? Was he the accomplice of
+the mysterious Englishman named Cane--the man suspected of causing the
+death of Sir Digby Kemsley?
+
+What this girl was revealing was certainly amazing.
+
+"You are quite sure that this man she called Digby left the neighbourhood
+last Sunday?" I asked her.
+
+"Quite. I overheard him speaking with the mistress late on Saturday
+night. He said, 'By this time to-morrow I shall be back in Brussels.' And
+I know he went there, for next day I posted a letter to Brussels."
+
+"To him?" I cried. "What was the address?"
+
+"The name was Bryant, and it was addressed Poste Restante, Brussels. I
+remember it, because I carefully made a note of it, as the whole affair
+seemed so extraordinary."
+
+"But this man she called Digby. Was he well-dressed?" I inquired.
+
+"Oh, no--not at all. He seemed poor and shabby. He only had with him a
+little handbag, but I believe he came from a considerable distance,
+probably from abroad, expressly to see her."
+
+"Then you think he is in Brussels now?"
+
+"Well, I posted the letter on Monday night. To-day is Wednesday," she
+said.
+
+I reflected. My first impulse was to go straight to Brussels and send a
+message to Mr. Bryant at the Poste Restante--a message that would trap
+him into an appointment with me.
+
+But in face of Phrida's present peril could I possibly leave London?
+
+I was at the parting of the ways. To hesitate might be to lose trace of
+the man who had proved such a false friend, while, by crossing to
+Brussels again, I would be leaving Phrida to her fate.
+
+"You heard no other mention of the person named Royle?" I asked her after
+a brief pause, during which I placed a second half-sovereign in her hand.
+
+She reflected for a moment, her eyes cast down upon the carpet, as we
+stood together in that sombre little room of horrors.
+
+"Well, yes," she replied thoughtfully. "One afternoon when I was taking
+tea into the drawing-room where they were sitting together I heard
+mistress say, 'I don't like that man Royle at all. He means
+mischief--more especially as he loves the girl.' The gentleman only
+laughed and said, 'Have no fear on that score. He knows nothing, and is
+not likely to know, unless you tell him.' Then mistress said, 'I've been
+a fool, perhaps, but when we met I told him one or two things--sufficient
+to cause him to think.' Then the gentleman stood up angrily and cried out
+in quite a loud voice: 'What! you fool! You've actually told him--you've
+allowed your infernal tongue to wag and let out the truth!' But she said
+that she had not told all the truth, and started abusing him--so much so
+that he left the room and went out into the garden, where, a few minutes
+later, I saw him talking excitedly to Ali. But when the two men talked I
+could, of course, understand nothing," added the girl.
+
+"Then your mistress declared that she didn't like the man Royle, eh?"
+
+"Yes; she seemed to fear him--fear that he knew too much about some
+business or other," replied the maid. "And to tell you quite frankly,
+sir, after watching the mistress and her visitor very narrowly for a
+couple of days I came to the conclusion that the gentleman was
+hiding--that perhaps the police were after him."
+
+"Why?" I inquired in a casual tone. "What made you think that?"
+
+"I hardly know. Perhaps from the scraps of conversation I overheard,
+perhaps from his cunning, secret manner--not but what he was always nice
+to me, and gave me something when he left."
+
+"You didn't hear any other names of persons mentioned?" I asked. "Try and
+think, as all that you tell me is of the greatest importance to me."
+
+The girl stood silent, while I paced up and down that room in which, not
+many hours before, I had endured that awful mental torture. She drew her
+hand across her brow, trying to recall.
+
+"Yes, there was another name," she admitted at last, "but I can't at the
+moment recall it."
+
+"Ah, do!" I implored her. "Try and recall it. I am in no hurry to leave."
+
+Again the dark-eyed maid in the dainty apron was silent--both hands upon
+her brow, as she had turned from me and was striving to remember.
+
+"It was some foreign name--a woman's name," she said.
+
+I recollected the dead girl was believed to have been a foreigner!
+
+Suddenly she cried--
+
+"Ah, I remember! The name was Mary Brack."
+
+"Mary Brack!" I repeated.
+
+"Yes. Of course I don't know how it's spelt."
+
+"Well, if it were a foreign name it would probably be Marie B-r-a-c-q--if
+you are sure you've pronounced it right."
+
+"Oh, yes. I'm quite sure. Mistress called her 'poor girl!' so I can only
+suppose that something must have happened to her."
+
+I held my breath at her words.
+
+Yes, without a doubt I had secured a clue to the identity of the girl who
+lost her life at Harrington Gardens.
+
+Her name, in all probability, was Marie Bracq!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+"MARIE BRACQ!"
+
+
+Marie Bracq! The name rang in my ears in the express all the way from
+Colchester to Liverpool Street.
+
+Just before six o'clock I alighted from a taxi in Scotland Yard, and,
+ascending in the lift, soon found myself sitting with Inspector Edwards.
+
+At that moment I deemed it judicious to tell him nothing regarding my
+night adventure in the country, except to say:
+
+"Well, I've had a strange experience--the strangest any man could have,
+because I have dared to investigate on my own account the mystery of
+Harrington Gardens."
+
+"Oh! tell me about it, Mr. Royle," he urged, leaning back in his chair
+before the littered writing-table.
+
+"There's nothing much to tell," was my reply. "I'll describe it all some
+day. At present there's no time to waste. I believe I am correct in
+saying that the name of the murdered girl is Marie Bracq."
+
+Edwards looked me straight in the face. "That's not an English name, is
+it?" he said.
+
+"No, Belgian, I should say."
+
+"Belgian? Yes, most probably," he said. "A rather uncommon name, and one
+which ought not to be difficult to trace. How did you find this out?"
+
+"Oh, it's a long story, Mr. Edwards," I said. "But I honestly believe
+that at last we are on the scent. Cannot you discover whether any girl of
+that name is missing?"
+
+"Of course. I'll wire to the Brussels police at once. Perhaps it will be
+well to ask the Préfect of Police in Paris if they have any person of
+that name reported missing," he said, and, ringing a bell, a clerk
+appeared almost instantly with a writing-pad and pencil.
+
+"Wire to Brussels and Paris and ask if they have any person named Marie
+Bracq--be careful of the spelling--missing. If so, we will send them over
+a photo."
+
+"Yes, sir," the man replied, and disappeared.
+
+"Well," I asked casually, when we were alone, "have you traced the tailor
+who made the dead girl's costume?"
+
+"Not yet. The Italian police are making every inquiry."
+
+"And what have you decided regarding that letter offering to give
+information?"
+
+"Nothing," was his prompt reply. "And if this information you have
+obtained as to the identity of the deceased proves correct, we shall do
+nothing. It will be far more satisfactory to work out the problem for
+ourselves, rather than risk being misled by somebody who has an axe to
+grind."
+
+"Ah! I'm pleased that you view the matter in that light," I said, much
+relieved. "I feel confident that I have gained the true name of the
+victim."
+
+"But how did you manage it, Mr. Royle?" he asked, much interested.
+
+I, however, refused to satisfy his curiosity.
+
+"You certainly seem to know more about the affair than we do," he
+remarked with a smile.
+
+"Well, was I not a friend of the man who is now a fugitive?" I remarked.
+
+"Ah, of course! And depend upon it, Mr. Royle, when this affair is
+cleared up, we shall find that your friend was a man of very curious
+character," he said, pursing his lips. "Inquiries have shown that many
+mysteries concerning him remain to be explained."
+
+For a moment I did not speak. Then I asked:
+
+"Is anything known concerning a woman friend of his named Petre?"
+
+"Petre?" he echoed. "No, not that I'm aware of. But it seemed that he was
+essentially what might be called a ladies' man."
+
+"I know that. He used to delight in entertaining his lady friends."
+
+"But who is this woman Petre whom you've mentioned?" he inquired with
+some curiosity.
+
+"The woman who is ready to give you information for a consideration," I
+replied.
+
+"How do you know that?"
+
+"Well, I am acquainted with her. I was with her last night," was my quick
+response. "Her intention is to condemn a perfectly innocent woman."
+
+"Whom?" he asked sharply. "The woman who lost that green horn comb at the
+flat?"
+
+I held my breath.
+
+"No, Edwards," I answered, "That question is unfair. As a gentleman, I
+cannot mention a lady's name. If she chooses to do so that's another
+matter. But if she does--as from motives of jealousy she easily may
+do--please do not take any action without first consulting me. Ere long I
+shall have a strange, almost incredible, story to put before you."
+
+"Why not now?" he asked, instantly interested.
+
+"Because I have not yet substantiated all my facts," was my reply.
+
+"Cannot I assist you? Why keep me in the dark?" he protested.
+
+"I'm afraid you can render me no other assistance except to hesitate to
+accept the allegations of that woman Petre," I replied.
+
+"Well, we shall wait until she approaches us again," he said.
+
+"This I feel certain she will do," I exclaimed. "But if you see her, make
+no mention whatever of me--you understand? She believes me to be dead,
+and therefore not likely to disprove her allegations."
+
+"Dead!" he echoed. "Really, Mr. Royle, all this sounds most interesting."
+
+"It is," I declared. "I believe I am now upon the verge of a very
+remarkable discovery--that ere long we shall know the details of that
+crime in South Kensington."
+
+"Well, if you do succeed in elucidating the mystery you will accomplish a
+marvellous feat," said the great detective, placing his hands together
+and looking at me across his table. "I confess that I'm completely
+baffled. That friend of yours who called himself Kemsley has disappeared
+as completely as though the ground had opened and swallowed him."
+
+"Ah, Edwards, London's a big place," I laughed, "and your men are really
+not very astute."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because the man you want called at my rooms in Albemarle Street only a
+few days ago."
+
+"What?" he cried, staring at me surprised.
+
+"Yes, I was unfortunately out, but he left a message with my man that he
+would let me know his address later."
+
+"Amazing impudence!" cried my friend. "He called in order to show his
+utter defiance of the police, I should think."
+
+"No. My belief is that he wished to tell me something," I said. "Anyhow,
+he will either return or send his address."
+
+"I very much doubt it. He's a clever rogue, but, like all men of his
+elusiveness and cunning, he never takes undue chances. No, Mr. Royle,
+depend upon it, he'll never visit you again."
+
+"But I may be able to find him. Who knows?"
+
+The detective moved his papers aside, and with a sigh admitted:
+
+"Yes, you may have luck, to be sure."
+
+Then, after some further conversation, he looked at the piece of sticking
+plaster on my head and remarked:
+
+"I see you've had a knock. How did you manage it?"
+
+I made an excuse that in bending before my own fireplace I had struck it
+on the corner of the mantelshelf. Afterwards I suddenly said:
+
+"You recollect those facts you told me regarding the alleged death of the
+real Kemsley in Peru, don't you?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Well, they've interested me deeply. I'd so much like to know any further
+details."
+
+Edwards reflected a moment, recalling the report.
+
+"Well," he said, taking from one of the drawers in his table a voluminous
+official file of papers. "There really isn't very much more than what you
+already know. The Consul's report is a very full one, and contains a
+quantity of depositions taken on the spot--mostly evidence of Peruvians,
+in which little credence can, perhaps, be placed. Of course," he added,
+"the suspected man Cane seems to have been a very bad lot. He was at one
+time manager of a rubber plantation belonging to a Portuguese company,
+and some very queer stories were current regarding him."
+
+"What kind of stories?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, his outrageous cruelty to the natives when they did not collect
+sufficient rubber. He used, they said, to burn the native villages and
+massacre the inhabitants without the slightest compunction. He was known
+by the natives as 'The Red Englishman.' They were terrified by him. His
+name, it seems, was Herbert Cane, and so bad became his reputation that
+he was dismissed by the company after an inquiry by a commission sent
+from Lisbon, and drifted into Argentina, sinking lower and lower in the
+social scale."
+
+Then, after referring to several closely-written pages of foolscap, each
+one bearing the blue embossed stamp of the British Consulate in Lima, he
+went on:
+
+"Inquiries showed that for a few months the man Cane was in Monte Video,
+endeavouring to obtain a railway concession for a German group of
+financiers, but his reputation became noised abroad and he found it
+better to leave that city. Afterwards he seems to have met Sir Digby and
+to have become his bosom friend."
+
+"And what were the exact circumstances of Sir Digby's death?" I asked
+anxiously.
+
+"Ah! they are veiled in mystery," was the detective's response, turning
+again to the official report and depositions of witnesses. "As I think I
+told you, Sir Digby had met with an accident and injured his spine. Cane,
+whose acquaintance he made, brought him down to Lima, and a couple of
+months later, under the doctor's advice, removed him to a bungalow at
+Huacho. Here they lived with a couple of Peruvian men-servants, named
+Senos and Luis. Cane seemed devoted to his friend, leading the life of a
+quiet, studious, refined man--very different to his wild life on the
+rubber plantation. One morning, however, on a servant entering Sir
+Digby's room, he found him dead, and an examination showed that he had
+been bitten in the arm by a poisonous snake. There were signs of a
+struggle, showing the poor fellow's agony before he died. Cane, entering
+shortly afterwards, was distracted with grief, and telegraphed himself to
+the British Consul at Lima. And, according to custom in that country,
+that same evening the unfortunate man was buried."
+
+"Without any inquiry?" I asked.
+
+"Yes. At the time, remember, there was no suspicion. A good many people
+die annually in Peru of snake-bite," Edwards replied, again referring to
+the file of papers before him. "It seems, however, that three days later,
+the second Peruvian servant--a man known as Senos--declared that during
+the night of the tragic affair he had heard his master suddenly yell with
+terror and cry out 'You blackguard, Cane, you hell-fiend; take the thing
+away. Ah! God! You--why, you've killed me!'"
+
+"Yes," I said. "But was this told to Cane?"
+
+"Cane saw the man and strenuously denied his allegation. He, indeed, went
+to the local Commissary of Police and lodged a complaint against the man
+Senos for falsely accusing him, saying that he had done so out of spite,
+because a few days before he had had occasion to reprimand him for
+inattention to his duties. Further, Cane brought up a man living five
+miles from Huacho who swore that the accused man was at his bungalow on
+that night, arriving at nine o'clock. He drank so heavily that he could
+not get home, so he remained there the night, returning at eight o'clock
+next morning."
+
+"And the police officials believed him--eh?" I asked.
+
+"Yes. But next day he left Huacho, expressing a determination to go to
+Lima and make a statement to the Consul there. But he never arrived at
+the capital, and he has never been seen since."
+
+"Then a grave suspicion rests upon him?" I remarked, reflecting upon my
+startling adventure of the previous night.
+
+"Certainly. But the curious thing is that no attempt seems to have been
+made by the police authorities in Lima to trace the man. They allowed him
+to disappear, and took no notice of the affair, even when the British
+Consul reported it. I fancy police methods must be very lax ones there,"
+he added.
+
+"But what could have been the method of the assassin?" I asked.
+
+"Why, simply to allow the snake to strike at the sleeping man, I
+presume," said the detective. "Yet, one would have thought that after the
+snake had bitten him he would have cried out for help. But he did not."
+
+Had the victim, I wondered, swallowed that same tasteless drug that I had
+swallowed, and been paralysed, as I had been?
+
+"And the motive of the crime?" I asked.
+
+Edwards shrugged his shoulders, and raised his brows.
+
+"Robbery, I should say," was his reply. "But, strangely enough, there is
+no suggestion of theft in this report; neither does there seem to be any
+woman in the case."
+
+"You, of course, suspect that my friend Digby and the man Cane, are one
+and the same person!" I said. "But is it feasible that if Cane were
+really responsible for the death of the real Sir Digby, would he have the
+bold audacity to return to London and actually pose as his victim?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Royle," replied the detective, "I think it most feasible. Great
+criminals have the most remarkable audacity. Some really astounding cases
+of most impudent impersonation have come under my own observation during
+my career in this office."
+
+"Then you adhere to the theory which you formed at first?"
+
+"Most decidedly," he replied; "and while it seems that you have a
+surprise to spring upon me very shortly, so have I one to spring upon
+you--one which I fear, Mr. Royle," he added very slowly, looking me
+gravely in the face--"I fear may come as a great shock to you."
+
+I sat staring at him, unable to utter a syllable.
+
+He was alluding to Phrida, and to the damning evidence against her.
+
+What could he know? Ah! who had betrayed my love?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+LOVE'S CONFESSION.
+
+
+I dined alone at the Club, and afterwards sat over my coffee in one of
+the smaller white-panelled rooms, gazing up at the Adams ceiling, and my
+mind full of the gravest thoughts.
+
+What had Edwards meant when he promised me an unpleasant surprise? Had
+the woman Petre already made a statement incriminating my well-beloved?
+
+If so, I would at once demand the arrest of her and her accomplices for
+attempted murder. It had suggested itself to me to make a complete
+revelation to Edwards of the whole of my exciting adventure at
+Colchester, but on mature consideration I saw that such a course might
+thwart my endeavours to come face to face with Digby.
+
+Therefore I had held my tongue.
+
+But were Edwards' suspicions that the assassin Cane and the man I knew as
+Sir Digby Kemsley were one and the same, correct, or were they not?
+
+The method by which the unfortunate Englishman in Peru had been foully
+done to death was similar to the means employed against myself at
+Colchester on the previous night. Again, the fact that the victim did not
+shout and call for aid was, no doubt, due to the administration of that
+drug which produced complete paralysis of the muscles, and yet left the
+senses perfectly normal.
+
+Was that Indian whom they called Ali really a Peruvian native--the
+accomplice of Cane? I now felt confident that this was so.
+
+But in what manner could the impostor have obtained power over Phrida?
+Why did she not take courage and reveal to me the truth?
+
+Presently, I took a taxi down to Cromwell Road and found my well-beloved,
+with thin, pale, drawn face, endeavouring to do some fancy needlework by
+the drawing-room fire. Her mother had retired with a bad headache, she
+said, and she was alone.
+
+"I expected you yesterday, Teddy," she said, taking my hand. "I waited
+all day, but you never came."
+
+"I had to go into the country," I replied somewhat lamely.
+
+Then after a brief conversation upon trivialities, during which time I
+sat regarding her closely, and noting how nervous and agitated she
+seemed, she suddenly asked:
+
+"Well! Have you heard anything more of that woman, Mrs. Petre?"
+
+"I believe she's gone abroad," I replied, with evasion.
+
+Phrida's lips twitched convulsively, and she gave vent to a slight sigh,
+of relief, perhaps.
+
+"Tell me, dearest," I said, bending and stroking her soft hair from her
+white brow. "Are you still so full of anxiety? Do you still fear the
+exposure of the truth?"
+
+She did not reply, but of a sudden buried her face upon my shoulder and
+burst into tears.
+
+"Ah!" I sighed, still stroking her hair sympathetically, "I know what you
+must suffer, darling--of the terrible mental strain upon you. I believe
+in your innocence--I still believe in it, and if you will bear a stout
+heart and trust me, I believe I shall succeed in worsting your enemies."
+
+In a moment her tear-stained face was raised to mine.
+
+"Do you really believe that you can, dear?" she asked anxiously. "Do you
+actually anticipate extricating me from this terrible position of doubt,
+uncertainty, and guilt?"
+
+"I do--if you will only trust me, and keep a brave heart, darling," I
+said. "Already I have made several discoveries--startling ones."
+
+"About Mrs. Petre, perhaps?"
+
+"About her and about others."
+
+"What about her?"
+
+"I have found out where she is living--down at Colchester."
+
+"What?" she gasped, starting. "You've been down there?"
+
+"Yes, I was there yesterday, and I saw Ali and the two servants."
+
+"You saw them--and spoke to them?" she cried incredibly.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But, Teddy--ah! You don't know how injudicious it was for you to visit
+them. Why, you might have----"
+
+"Might have what?" I asked, endeavouring to betray no surprise at her
+words.
+
+"Well, I mean you should not have ventured into the enemy's camp like
+that. It was dangerous," she declared.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"They are quite unscrupulous," she replied briefly.
+
+"They are your enemies, I know. But I cannot see why they should be
+mine," I remarked.
+
+"My enemies--yes!" my love cried bitterly. "It will not be long before
+that woman makes a charge against me, Teddy--one which I shall not be
+able to refute."
+
+"But I will assist you against them. I love you, Phrida, and it is my
+duty to defend you," I declared.
+
+"Ah! You were always so good and generous," she remarked wistfully. "But
+in this case I cannot, alas, see how you can render me any aid! The
+police will make inquiries, and--and then the end," she added in a voice
+scarce above a whisper.
+
+"No, no!" I urged. "Don't speak in that hopeless strain, darling. I know
+your position is a terrible one. We need not refer to details; as they
+are painful to both of us. But I am straining every nerve--working night
+and day to clear up the mystery and lift from you this cloud of
+suspicion. I have already commenced by learning one or two facts--facts
+of which the police remain in ignorance. Although you refused to tell
+me--why, I cannot discern--the name of the unfortunate girl who lost her
+life, I have succeeded in gaining knowledge of it. Was not the girl named
+Marie Bracq?"
+
+She started again at hearing the name.
+
+"Yes," she replied at once. "Who told you?"
+
+"I discovered it for myself," I replied. "Who was the girl--tell me?"
+
+"A friend of Digby Kemsley's."
+
+"A foreigner, of course?"
+
+"Yes, Belgian, I believe."
+
+"From Brussels, eh?"
+
+"Perhaps. I don't know for certain."
+
+"And she learned some great secret of Digby's, which was the motive of
+the crime," I suggested.
+
+But my love only shook her pretty head blankly, saying--"I don't know.
+Perhaps she knew something to his detriment."
+
+"And in order to silence her, she was killed," I suggested.
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+She made no protest of her own innocence, I noticed. She seemed to place
+herself unreservedly in my hands to judge her as I thought fit.
+
+Yet had not her own admissions been extremely strange ones. Had she not
+practically avowed her guilt?
+
+"Can you tell me nothing concerning this Belgian girl?" I asked her a few
+moments later.
+
+"I only knew her but very slightly."
+
+"Pardon me putting to you such a pointed question, Phrida. But were you
+jealous of her?"
+
+"Jealous!" she ejaculated. "Why, dear me, no. Why should I be jealous?
+Who suggested that?"
+
+"Mrs. Petre. She declares that your jealousy was the motive of the crime,
+and that Digby himself can bear witness to it."
+
+"She said that?" cried my love, her eyes flashing in fierce anger. "She's
+a wicked liar."
+
+"I know she is, and I intend to prove her so," I replied with confidence.
+"When she and I meet again we have an account to settle. You will see."
+
+"Ah! Teddy, beware of her! She's a dangerous woman--highly dangerous,"
+declared my love apprehensively. "You don't know her as I do--you do not
+know the grave evil and utter ruin she has brought upon others. So I beg
+of you to be careful not to be entrapped."
+
+"Have others been entrapped, then?" I asked with great curiosity.
+
+"I don't know. No. Please don't ask me," she protested. "I don't know."
+
+Her response was unreal. My well-beloved was I knew in possession of some
+terrible secret which she dared not betray. Yet why were her lips sealed?
+What did she fear?
+
+"I intend to find Digby, and demand the truth from him," I said after we
+had been silent for a long time. "I will never rest until I stand before
+him face to face."
+
+"Ah! no dear!" she cried in quick alarm, starting up and flinging both
+her arms about my neck. "No, don't do that?" she implored.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because he will condemn me--he will think you have learned something
+from me," she declared in deep distress.
+
+"But I shall reveal to him my sources of information," I said. "Since
+that fatal night I have learned that the man whom I believed was my firm
+friend has betrayed me. An explanation is due to me, and I intend to have
+one."
+
+"At my expense--eh?" she asked in bitter reproach.
+
+"No, dearest. The result shall not fall upon you," I said. "I will see to
+that. A foul and dastardly crime has been committed, and the assassin
+shall be brought to punishment."
+
+My well-beloved shuddered in my arms as she heard my words--as though the
+guilt were upon her.
+
+I detected it, and became more than ever puzzled. Why did she seek to
+secure this man's freedom?
+
+I asked her that question point-blank, whereupon in a hard, faltering
+voice, she replied:
+
+"Because, dear, while he is still a fugitive from justice I feel myself
+safe. The hour he is arrested is the hour of my doom."
+
+"Why speak so despondently?" I asked. "Have I not promised to protect you
+from those people?"
+
+"How can you if they make allegations against me and bring up witnesses
+who will commit perjury--who will swear anything in order that the guilt
+shall be placed upon my head," she asked in despair.
+
+"Though the justice often dispensed by country magistrates is a
+disgraceful travesty of right and wrong, yet we still have in England
+justice in the criminal courts," I said. "Rest assured that no jury will
+convict an innocent woman of the crime of murder."
+
+She stood slightly away from me, staring blankly straight before her.
+Then suddenly she pressed both hands upon her brow and cried in a low,
+intense voice:
+
+"May God have pity on me!"
+
+"Yes," I said very earnestly. "Trust in Him, dearest, and He will help
+you."
+
+"Ah!" she cried. "You don't know how I suffer--of all the terror--all the
+dread that haunts me night and day. Each ring at the door I fear may be
+the police--every man who passes the house I fear may be a detective
+watching. This torture is too awful. I feel I shall go mad--_mad_!"
+
+And she paced the room in her despair, while I stood watching her, unable
+to still the wild, frantic terror that had gripped her young heart.
+
+What could I do? What could I think?
+
+"This cannot go on, Phrida!" I cried at last in desperation. "I will
+search out this man. I'll grip him by the throat and force the truth from
+him," I declared, setting my teeth hard. "I love you, and I will not
+stand by and see you suffer like this!"
+
+"Ah, no!" she implored, suddenly approaching me, flinging herself upon
+her knees and gripping my hands. "No, I beg of you not to do that!" she
+cried hoarsely.
+
+"But why?" I demanded. "Surely you can tell me the reason of your fear!"
+I went on--"the man is a rank impostor. That has been proved already by
+the police."
+
+"Do you know that?" she asked, in an instant grave. "Are you quite
+certain of that? Remember, you have all along believed him to be the real
+Sir Digby."
+
+"What is your belief, Phrida?" I asked her very earnestly.
+
+She drew a long breath and hesitated.
+
+"Truth to tell, dear, I don't know what to think. Sometimes I believe he
+must be the real person--and at other times I am filled with doubt."
+
+"But now tell me," I urged, assisting her to rise to her feet and then
+placing my arm about her neck, so that her pretty head fell upon my
+shoulder. "Answer me truthfully this one question, for all depends upon
+it. How is it that this man has secured such a hold upon you--how is it
+that with you his word is law--that though he is a fugitive from justice
+you refuse to say a single word against him or to give me one clue to
+the solution of this mystery?"
+
+Her face was blanched to the lips, she trembled in my embrace, drawing a
+long breath.
+
+"I--I'm sorry, dear--but I--I can't tell you. I--I dare not. Can't you
+understand?" she asked with despair in her great, wide-open eyes. "_I
+dare not!_"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+OFFICIAL SECRECY.
+
+
+The following evening was damp, grey, and dull, as I stood shivering at
+the corner of the narrow Rue de l'Eveque and the broad Place de la Monnie
+in Brussels. The lamps were lit, and around me everywhere was the bustle
+of business.
+
+I had crossed by the morning service by way of Ostend, and had arrived
+again at the Grand only half an hour before.
+
+The woman Petre had sent a letter to Digby Kemsley to the Poste Restante
+in Brussels under the name of Bryant. If this were so, the fugitive must
+be in the habit of calling for his letters, and it was the great black
+façade of the chief post-office in Brussels that I was watching.
+
+The business-day was just drawing to a close, the streets were thronged,
+the traffic rattled noisily over the uneven granite paving of the big
+square. Opposite the Post Office the arc lamps were shedding a bright
+light outside the theatre, while all the shops around were a blaze of
+light, while on every side the streets were agog with life.
+
+Up and down the broad flight of steps which led to the entrance of the
+Post Office hundreds of people ascended and descended, passing and
+re-passing the four swing-doors which gave entrance to the huge hall with
+its dozens of departments ranged around and its partitioned desks for
+writing.
+
+The mails from France and England were just in, and dozens of men came
+with their keys to obtain their correspondence from the range of private
+boxes, and as I watched, the whole bustle of business life passed before
+me.
+
+I was keeping a sharp eye upon all who passed up and down that long
+flight of granite steps, but at that hour of the evening, and in that
+crowd, it was no easy matter.
+
+Would I be successful? That was the one thought which filled my mind.
+
+As I stood there, my eager gaze upon that endless stream of people, I
+felt wearied and fagged. The Channel crossing had been a bad one, as it
+so often is in January, and I had not yet recovered from my weird
+experience at Colchester. The heavy overcoat I wore was, I found, not
+proof against the cutting east wind which swept around the corner from
+the Boulevard Auspach, hence I was compelled to change my position and
+seek shelter in a doorway opposite the point where I expected the man I
+sought would enter.
+
+I had already surveyed the interior and presented the card of a friend to
+an official at the Poste Restante, though I knew there was no letter for
+him. I uttered some words of politeness to the man in order to make his
+acquaintance, as he might, perhaps, be of use to me ere my quest was at
+an end.
+
+At the Poste Restante were two windows, one distributing correspondence
+for people whose surname began with the letters A to L, and the other
+from M to Z.
+
+It was at the first window I inquired, the clerk there being a pleasant,
+fair-haired, middle-aged man in a holland coat as worn by postal
+employees. I longed to ask him if he had any letters for the name of
+Bryant, or if any Englishman of that name had called, but I dared not do
+so. He would, no doubt, snub me and tell me to mind my own business.
+
+So instead, I was extremely polite, regretted to have troubled him, and,
+raising my hat, withdrew.
+
+I saw that to remain within the big office for hours was impossible. The
+uniformed doorkeeper who sat upon a high desk overlooking everything,
+would quickly demand my business, and expel me.
+
+No, my only place was out in the open street. Not a pleasant prospect in
+winter, and for how many days I could not tell.
+
+For aught I knew, the fugitive had called for the woman's letter and left
+the capital. But he, being aware that the police were in search of him,
+would, I thought, if he called at the post office at all for letters,
+come there after dark. Hence, I had lost no time in mounting guard.
+
+My thoughts, as I stood there, were, indeed, bitter and confused.
+
+The woman Petre had not, as far as I could make out, made any
+incriminating statement to the police. Yet she undoubtedly believed me to
+be dead, and I reflected in triumph upon the unpleasant surprise in store
+for her when we met--as meet we undoubtedly would.
+
+The amazing problem, viewed briefly, stood thus: The girl, Marie Bracq,
+had been killed by a knife with a three-cornered blade, such knife having
+been and being still in the possession of Phrida, my well-beloved, whose
+finger-prints were found in the room near the body of the poor girl. The
+grave and terrible suspicion resting upon Phrida was increased and even
+corroborated by her firm resolve to preserve secrecy, her admissions, and
+her avowed determination to take her own life rather than face
+accusation.
+
+On the other hand, there was the mystery of the identity of Marie Bracq,
+the mystery of the identity of the man who had passed as Sir Digby
+Kemsley, the reason of his flight, if Phrida were guilty, and the mystery
+of the woman Petre, and her accomplices.
+
+Yes. The whole affair was one great and complete problem, the extent of
+which even Edwards, expert as he was, had, as yet, failed to discover.
+The more I tried to solve it the more hopelessly complicated did it
+become.
+
+I could see no light through the veil of mystery and suspicion in which
+my well-beloved had become enveloped.
+
+Why had that man--the man I now hated with so fierce an hatred--held her
+in the hollow of his unscrupulous hands? She had admitted that, whenever
+he ordered her to do any action, she was bound to obey.
+
+Yes. My love was that man's slave! I ground my teeth when the bitter
+thought flashed across my perturbed mind.
+
+Ah! what a poor, ignorant fool I had been! And how that scoundrel must
+have laughed at me!
+
+I was anxious to meet him face to face--to force from his lips the truth,
+to compel him to answer to me.
+
+And with that object I waited--waited in the cold and rain for three long
+hours, until at last the great doors were closed and locked for the
+night, and people ascended those steps no longer.
+
+Then I turned away faint and disheartened, chilled to the bone, and
+wearied out. A few steps along the Boulevard brought me to the hotel,
+where I ate some dinner, and retired to my room to fling myself upon the
+couch and think.
+
+Why was Phrida in such fear lest I should meet the man who held her so
+mysteriously and completely in his power? What could she fear from our
+meeting if she were, as I still tried to believe, innocent?
+
+Again, was it possible that after their dastardly attempt upon my life,
+Mrs. Petre and her accomplices had fled to join the fugitive? Were they
+with him? Perhaps so! Perhaps they were there in Brussels!
+
+The unfortunate victim, Marie Bracq, had probably been a Belgian. Bracq
+was certainly a Belgian name.
+
+The idea crossed my mind to go on the following day to the central Police
+Bureau I had noticed in the Rue de la Regence, and make inquiry whether
+they knew of any person of that name to be missing. It was not a bad
+suggestion, I reflected, and I felt greatly inclined to carry it out.
+
+Next day, I was up early, but recognised the futility of watching at the
+Poste Restante until the daylight faded. On the other hand, if Mrs.
+Petre was actually in that city, she would have no fear to go about
+openly. Yet, after due consideration, I decided not to go to the post
+office till twilight set in.
+
+The morning I spent idling on the Boulevards and in the cafés, but I
+became sick of such inactivity, for I was frantically eager and anxious
+to learn the truth.
+
+At noon I made up my mind, and taking a taxi, alighted at the Préfecture
+of Police, where, after some time, I was seen by the _Chef du Sureté_, a
+grey-haired, dry-as-dust looking official--a narrow-eyed little man, in
+black, whose name was Monsieur Van Huffel, and who sat at a writing-table
+in a rather bare room, the walls of which were painted dark green. He
+eyed me with some curiosity as I entered and bowed.
+
+"Be seated, I pray, m'sieur," he said in French, indicating a chair on
+the opposite side of the table, and leaning back, placed his fingers
+together in a judicial attitude.
+
+The police functionary on the continent is possessed of an ultra-grave
+demeanour, and is always of a funereal type.
+
+"M'sieur wishes to make an inquiry, I hear?" he began.
+
+"Yes," I said. "I am very anxious to know whether you have any report of
+a young person named Marie Bracq being missing."
+
+"Marie Bracq!" he echoed in surprise, leaning forward towards me. "And
+what do you know, m'sieur, regarding Marie Bracq?"
+
+"I merely called to ascertain if any person of that name, is reported to
+you as missing," I said, much surprised at the effect which mention of
+the victim had produced upon him.
+
+"You are English, of course?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, m'sieur."
+
+"Well, curiously enough, only this morning I have had a similar inquiry
+from your Scotland Yard. They are asking if we are acquainted with any
+person named Marie Bracq. And we are, m'sieur," said Monsieur Van Huffel.
+"But first please explain what you know of her."
+
+"I have no personal acquaintance with her," was my reply. "I know of
+her--that is all. But it may not be the same person."
+
+He opened a drawer, turned over a quantity of papers, and a few seconds
+later produced a photograph which he passed across to me.
+
+It was a half-length cabinet portrait of a girl in a fur coat and hat.
+But no second glance was needed to tell me that it was actually the
+picture of the girl found murdered in London.
+
+"I see you recognise her, m'sieur," remarked the police official in a
+cold, matter-of-fact tone. "Please tell me all you know."
+
+I paused for a few seconds with the portrait in my hand. My object was to
+get all the facts I could from the functionary before me, and give him
+the least information possible.
+
+"Unfortunately, I know but very little," was my rather lame reply. "This
+lady was a friend of a lady friend of mine."
+
+"An English lady was your friend--eh?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"In London?"
+
+I nodded in the affirmative, while the shrewd little man who was
+questioning me sat twiddling a pen with his thin fingers.
+
+"And she told you of Marie Bracq? In what circumstances?"
+
+"Well," I said. "It is a long story. Before I tell you, I would like to
+ask you one question, m'sieur. Have you received from Scotland Yard the
+description of a man named Digby Kemsley--Sir Digby Kemsley--who is
+wanted for murder?"
+
+The dry little official with the parchment face repeated the name, then
+consulting a book at his elbow, replied:
+
+"Yes. We have circulated the description and photograph. It is believed
+by your police that his real name is Cane."
+
+"He has been in Brussels during the past few days to my own certain
+knowledge," I said.
+
+"In Brussels," echoed the man seated in the writing chair. "Where?"
+
+"Here, in your city. And I expect he is here now."
+
+"And you know him?" asked the _Chef du Sureté_, his eyes betraying slight
+excitement.
+
+"Quite well. He was my friend."
+
+"I see he is accused of murdering a woman, name unknown, in his
+apartment," remarked the official.
+
+"The name is now known--it has been discovered by me, m'sieur. The name
+of the dead girl is Marie Bracq."
+
+The little man half rose from his chair and stared at me.
+
+"Is this the truth, m'sieur?" he cried. "Is this man named Kemsley, or
+Cane, accused of the assassination of Marie Bracq?"
+
+"Yes," I replied.
+
+"But this is most astounding," the Belgian functionary declared
+excitedly. "Marie Bracq dead! Ah! it cannot be possible, m'sieur! You do
+not know what this information means to us--what an enormous sensation it
+will cause if the press scents the truth. Tell me quickly--tell me all
+you know," he urged, at the same time taking up the telephone receiver
+from his table and then listening for a second, said in a quick,
+impetuous voice, "I want Inspector Frémy at once!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+FRÉMY, OF THE SURETÉ.
+
+
+After a few moments a short, stout, clean-shaven man with a round,
+pleasant face, and dressed in black, entered and bowed to his chief.
+
+He carried his soft felt hat and cane in his hand, and seated himself at
+the invitation of Van Huffel.
+
+"This is Inspector Frémy--Monsieur Edouard Royle, of Londres," exclaimed
+the _Chef du Sureté_, introducing us.
+
+The detective, the most famous police officer in Belgium, who had been
+for years under Monsieur Hennion, in Paris, and had now transferred his
+services to Belgium, bowed and looked at me with his small, inquisitive
+eyes.
+
+"Monsieur Frémy. This gentleman has called with regard to the case of
+Marie Bracq," said Van Huffel in French.
+
+The detective was quickly interested.
+
+"She is dead--been assassinated in London," his chief went on.
+
+Frémy stared at the speaker in surprise, and the two men exchanged
+strange glances.
+
+"Monsieur tells me that the man, Sir Digby Kemsley, wanted by Scotland
+Yard, is accused of the murder of Marie Bracq--and, further," added Van
+Huffel, "the accused has been here in Brussels quite recently."
+
+"In Brussels?" echoed the round-faced man.
+
+"Yes," I said. "He has letters addressed to the Poste Restante in the
+name of Bryant." And I spelt it as the detective carefully wrote down the
+name.
+
+"He will not be difficult to find if he is still in Brussels," declared
+the inspector. "We had an inquiry from Scotland Yard asking if we had any
+report concerning Marie Bracq only this morning," he added.
+
+"It was sent to you by my friend, Inspector Edwards, and whom I am
+assisting in this inquiry," I explained.
+
+"You said that Marie Bracq was a friend of a lady friend of yours,
+M'sieur Royle," continued the _Chef du Sureté_. "Will you do us the
+favour and tell us all you know concerning the tragedy--how the young
+lady lost her life?"
+
+"Ah! m'sieur," I replied, "I fear I cannot do that. How she was killed is
+still a mystery. Only within the past few hours have I been able to
+establish the dead girl's identity, and only then after narrowly escaping
+falling the victim of a most dastardly plot."
+
+"Perhaps you will be good enough to make a statement of all you know,
+M'sieur Royle," urged the grey-haired little man; "and if we can be of
+any service in bringing the culprit to justice, you may rely upon us."
+
+"But first, m'sieur, allow me to put observation upon the Poste
+Restante?" asked Frémy, rising and going to the telephone, where he got
+on to one of his subordinates, and gave him instructions in Flemish, a
+language I do not understand.
+
+Then, when he returned to his chair, I began to briefly relate what I
+knew concerning Sir Digby, and what had occurred, as far as I knew, on
+that fatal night of the sixth of January.
+
+I, of course, made no mention of the black suspicion cast upon the woman
+I loved, nor of the delivery of Digby's letter, my meeting with the woman
+Petre and its exciting results.
+
+Yet had I not met that woman I should still have been in ignorance of the
+identity of the dead girl, and, besides, I would not have met the
+sallow-faced Ali, or been aware of his methods--those methods so
+strangely similar to that adopted when Sir Digby Kemsley lost his life in
+Peru.
+
+The two police functionaries listened very attentively to my story
+without uttering a word.
+
+I had spoken of the woman Petre as being an accomplice of the man who was
+a fugitive, whereupon Frémy asked:
+
+"Do you suppose that the woman is with him?"
+
+"She has, I believe, left England, and, therefore, in all probability, is
+with him."
+
+"Are there any others of the gang--for there is, of course, a gang? Such
+people never act singly."
+
+"Two other men, as far as I know. One, a young man, who acts as servant,
+and the other, a tall, copper-faced man with sleek black hair--probably a
+Peruvian native. They call him Ali, and he pretends he is a Hindu."
+
+"A Hindu!" gasped the detective. "Why, I saw one talking to a rather
+stout Englishwoman at the Gare du Nord yesterday evening, just before
+the Orient Express left for the East!" He gave a quick description of
+both the man and the woman, and I at once said:
+
+"Yes, that was certainly Ali, and the woman was Mrs. Petre!"
+
+"They probably left by the Orient Express!" he cried, starting up, and
+crossing to his chief's table snatched up the orange-coloured official
+time table.
+
+"Ah! yes," he exclaimed, after searching a few moments. "The Orient
+Express will reach Wels, in Austria, at 2.17, no time for a telegram to
+get through. No. The next stop is Vienna--the Westbahnhof--at 6. I will
+wire to the Commissary of Police to board the train, and if they are in
+it, to detain them."
+
+"Excellent," remarked his chief, and, ringing a bell, a clerk appeared
+and took down the official telegram, giving the description of the woman
+and her accomplice.
+
+"I suppose the fugitive Englishman is not with them?" suggested the _Chef
+du Sureté_.
+
+"I did not see him at the station--or, at least, I did not recognise
+anyone answering to the description," replied the inspector; "but we may
+as well add his description in the telegram and ask for an immediate
+reply."
+
+Thereupon the official description of Digby, as supplied to the Belgian
+police by Scotland Yard, was translated into French and placed in the
+message.
+
+After the clerk had left with it, Frémy, standing near the window,
+exclaimed:
+
+"Dieu! Had I but known who they were last night! But we may still get
+them. I will see the employée at the Poste Restante. This Monsieur
+Bryant, if he receives letters, may have given an address for them to be
+forwarded."
+
+After a slight pause, during which time the two functionaries conversed
+in Flemish, I turned to Van Huffel, and said:
+
+"I have related all I know, m'sieur; therefore, I beg of you to tell me
+something concerning the young person Marie Bracq. Was she a lady?"
+
+"A lady!" he echoed with a laugh. "Most certainly--the daughter of one of
+the princely houses of Europe."
+
+"What?" I gasped. "Tell me all about her!"
+
+But the dry-as-dust little man shook his grey head and replied:
+
+"I fear, m'sieur, in my position, I am not permitted to reveal secrets
+entrusted to me. And her identity is a secret--a great secret."
+
+"But I have discovered her identity where our English police had failed!"
+I protested. "Besides, am I not assisting you?"
+
+"Very greatly, and we are greatly indebted to you, M'sieur Royle," he
+replied, with exquisite politeness; "but it is not within my province as
+_Chef du Sureté_ to tell you facts which have been revealed to me under
+pledge of secrecy."
+
+"Perhaps M'sieur Frémy may be able to tell me some facts," I suggested.
+"Remember, I am greatly interested in the mysterious affair."
+
+"From mere curiosity--eh?" asked Van Huffel with a smile.
+
+"No, m'sieur," was my earnest reply. "Because the arrest and condemnation
+of the assassin of Marie Bracq means all the world to me."
+
+"How?"
+
+I hesitated for some moments, then, hoping to enlist his sympathy, I told
+him the truth.
+
+"Upon the lady who is my promised wife rests a grave suspicion," I said,
+in a low, hard voice. "I decline to believe ill of her, or to think that
+she could be guilty of a crime, or----"
+
+"Of the assassination of Marie Bracq?" interrupted Van Huffel. "Do you
+suspect that? Is there any question as to the guilt of the man Kemsley?"
+he asked quickly.
+
+"No one has any suspicion of the lady in question," I said. "Only--only
+from certain facts within my knowledge and certain words which she
+herself has uttered, a terrible and horrible thought has seized me."
+
+"That Marie Bracq was killed by her hand--eh? Ah, m'sieur, I quite
+understand," he said. "And you are seeking the truth--in order to clear
+the woman you love?"
+
+"Exactly. That is the truth. That is why I am devoting all my time--all
+that I possess in order to solve the mystery and get at the actual
+truth."
+
+Frémy glanced at his chief, then at me.
+
+"Bien, m'sieur," exclaimed Van Huffel. "But there is no great necessity
+for you to know the actual identity of Marie Bracq. So long as you are
+able to remove the stigma from the lady in question, who is to be your
+wife, and to whom you are undoubtedly devoted, what matters whether the
+dead girl was the daughter of a prince or of a rag-picker? We will assist
+you in every degree in our power," he went on. "M'sieur Frémy will
+question the postal clerk, watch will be kept at the Poste Restante, at
+each of the railway stations, and in various other quarters, so that if
+any of the gang are in the city they cannot leave it without
+detection----"
+
+"Except by automobile," I interrupted.
+
+"Ah! I see m'sieur possesses forethought," he said with a smile. "Of
+course, they can easily hire an automobile and run to Namur, Ghent, or
+Antwerp--or even to one or other of the frontiers. But M'sieur Frémy is
+in touch with all persons who have motor-cars for hire. If they attempted
+to leave by car when once their descriptions are circulated, we should
+know in half an hour, while to cross the frontier by car would be
+impossible." Then, turning to the inspector, he said, "You will see that
+precautions are immediately taken that if they are here they cannot
+leave."
+
+"The matter is in my hands, m'sieur," answered the great detective
+simply.
+
+"Then m'sieur refuses to satisfy me as to the exact identity of Marie
+Bracq?" I asked Van Huffel in my most persuasive tone.
+
+"A thousand regrets, m'sieur, but as I have already explained, I am
+compelled to regard the secret entrusted to me."
+
+"I take it that her real name is not Marie Bracq?" I said, looking him in
+the face.
+
+"You are correct. It is not."
+
+"Is she a Belgian subject?" I asked.
+
+"No, m'sieur, the lady is not."
+
+"You said that a great sensation would be caused if the press knew the
+truth?"
+
+"Yes. I ask you to do me the favour, and promise me absolute secrecy in
+this matter. If we are to be successful in the arrest of these
+individuals, then the press must know nothing--not a syllable. Do I have
+your promise, M'sieur Royle?"
+
+"If you wish," I answered.
+
+"And we on our part will assist you to clear this lady who is to be your
+wife--but upon one condition."
+
+"And that is what?" I asked.
+
+"That you do not seek to inquire into the real identity of the poor young
+lady who has lost her life--the lady known to you and others as Marie
+Bracq," he said, looking straight into my eyes very seriously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+SHOWS EXPERT METHODS.
+
+
+It being the luncheon hour, Frémy and myself ate our meal at the highly
+popular restaurant, the Taverne Joseph, close to the Bourse, where the
+cooking is, perhaps, the best in Brussels and where the cosmopolitan, who
+knows where to eat, usually makes for when in the Belgian capital.
+
+After our coffee, cigarettes, and a "triple-sec" each, we strolled round
+to the General Post Office. As we approached that long flight of granite
+steps I knew so well, a poor-looking, ill-dressed man with the pinch of
+poverty upon his face, and his coat buttoned tightly against the cold,
+edged up to my companion on the pavement and whispered a word, afterwards
+hurrying on.
+
+"Our interesting friend has not been here yet," the detective remarked to
+me. "We will have a talk with the clerk at the Poste Restante."
+
+Entering the great hall, busy as it is all day, we approached the window
+where letters were distributed from A to L, and where sat the same
+pleasant, fair-haired man sorting letters.
+
+"Bon jour, m'sieur!" he exclaimed, when he caught sight of Frémy. "What
+weather, eh?"
+
+The great detective returned his greetings, and then putting his head
+further into the window so that others should not overhear, said in
+French:
+
+"I am looking for an individual, an Englishman, name of Bryant, and am
+keeping watch outside. He is wanted in England for a serious offence. Has
+he been here?"
+
+"Bryant?" repeated the clerk thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes," said Frémy, and then I spelt the name slowly.
+
+The clerk reached his hand to the pigeon-hole wherein were letters for
+callers whose names began with B, and placing them against a little block
+of black wood on the counter before him, looked eagerly through while we
+watched intently.
+
+Once or twice he stopped to scrutinise an address, but his fingers went
+on again through the letters to the end.
+
+"Nothing," he remarked laconically, replacing the packet in the
+pigeon-hole. "But there has been correspondence for him. I recollect--a
+thin-faced man, with grey hair and clean shaven. Yes. I remember him
+distinctly. He always called just before the office was closed."
+
+"When did he call last?" asked Frémy quickly.
+
+"The night before last, I think," was the man's answer. "A lady was with
+him--a rather stout English lady."
+
+We both started.
+
+"Did the lady ask for any letters?"
+
+"Yes. But I forget the name."
+
+"Petre is her right name," I interrupted. Then I suggested to Frémy:
+"Ask the other clerk to look through the letter 'P.'"
+
+"Non, m'sieur!" exclaimed the fair-haired employée. "The name she asked
+for was in my division. It was not P."
+
+"Then she must have asked for a name that was not her own," I said.
+
+"And it seems very much as though we have lost the gang by a few hours,"
+Frémy said disappointedly. "My own opinion is that they left Brussels by
+the Orient Express last night. They did not call at the usual time
+yesterday."
+
+"They may come this evening," I suggested.
+
+"Certainly they may. We shall, of course, watch," he replied.
+
+"When the man and woman called the day before yesterday," continued the
+employée, "there was a second man--a dark-faced Indian with them, I
+believe. He stood some distance away, and followed them out. It was his
+presence which attracted my attention and caused me to remember the
+incident."
+
+Frémy exchanged looks with me. I knew he was cursing his fate which had
+allowed the precious trio to slip through his fingers.
+
+Yet the thought was gratifying that when the express ran into the Great
+Westbahnhof at Vienna, the detectives would at once search it for the
+fugitives.
+
+My companion had told me that by eight o'clock we would know the result
+of the enquiry, and I was anxious for that hour to arrive.
+
+Already Frémy had ordered search to be made of arrivals at all hotels and
+pensions in the city for the name of Bryant, therefore, we could do
+nothing more than possess ourselves in patience. So we left the post
+office, his poverty-stricken assistant remaining on the watch, just as I
+had watched in the cold on the previous night.
+
+With my companion I walked round to the big Café Metropole on the
+Boulevard, and over our "bocks," at a table where we could not be
+overheard, we discussed the situation.
+
+That big café, one of the principal in Brussels, is usually deserted
+between the hours of three and four. At other times it is filled with
+business men discussing their affairs, or playing dominoes with that
+rattle which is characteristic of the foreign café.
+
+"Why is it," I asked him, "that your chief absolutely refuses to betray
+the identity of the girl Marie Bracq?"
+
+The round-faced man before me smiled thoughtfully as he idly puffed his
+cigarette. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he replied:
+
+"Well, m'sieur, to tell the truth, there is a very curious complication.
+In connection with the affair there is a scandal which must never be
+allowed to get out to the public."
+
+"Then you know the truth--eh?" I asked.
+
+"A portion of it. Not all," he replied. "But I tell you that the news of
+the young lady's death has caused us the greatest amazement and surprise.
+We knew that she was missing, but never dreamed that she had been the
+victim of an assassin."
+
+"But who are her friends?" I demanded.
+
+"Unfortunately, I am not permitted to say," was his response. "When they
+know the terrible truth they may give us permission to reveal the truth
+to you. Till then, my duty is to preserve their secret."
+
+"But I am all anxiety to know."
+
+"I quite recognise that, M'sieur Royle," he said. "I know how I should
+feel were I in your position. But duty is duty, is it not?"
+
+"I have assisted you, and I have given you a clue to the mystery," I
+protested.
+
+"And we, on our part, will assist you to clear the stigma resting upon
+the lady who is your promised wife," he said. "Whatever I can do in that
+direction, m'sieur may rely upon me."
+
+I was silent, for I saw that to attempt to probe further then the mystery
+of the actual identity of Marie Bracq was impossible. There seemed a
+conspiracy of silence against me.
+
+But I would work myself. I would exert all the cunning and ingenuity I
+possessed--nay, I would spend every penny I had in the world--in order to
+clear my well-beloved of that terrible suspicion that by her hand this
+daughter of a princely house had fallen.
+
+"Well," I asked at last. "What more can we do?"
+
+"Ah!" sighed the stout man, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke from his
+lips and drawing his glass. "What can we do? The Poste Restante is being
+watched, the records of all hotels and pensions for the past month are
+being inspected, and we have put a guard upon the Orient Express. No! We
+can do nothing," he said, "until we get a telegram from Vienna. Will you
+call at the Préfecture of Police at eight o'clock to-night? I will be
+there to see you."
+
+I promised, then having paid the waiter, we strolled out of the café, and
+parted on the Boulevard, he going towards the Nord Station, while I went
+along in the opposite direction to the Grand.
+
+For the appointed hour I waited in greatest anxiety. What if the trio had
+been arrested in Vienna?
+
+That afternoon I wrote a long and encouraging letter to Phrida, telling
+her that I was exerting every effort on her behalf and urging her to keep
+a stout heart against her enemies, who now seemed to be in full flight.
+
+At last, eight o'clock came, and I entered the small courtyard of the
+Préfecture of Police, where a uniformed official conducted me up to the
+room of Inspector Frémy.
+
+The big, merry-faced man rose as I entered and placed his cigar in an ash
+tray.
+
+"Bad luck, m'sieur!" he exclaimed in French. "They left Brussels in the
+Orient, as I suspected--all three of them. Here is the reply," and he
+handed me an official telegram in German, which translated into English
+read:
+
+    "To Préfet of Police, Brussels, from Préfet of Police, Vienna:
+
+    "In response to telegram of to-day's date, the three persons
+    described left Brussels by Orient Express, travelled to Wels,
+    and there left the train at 2.17 this afternoon. Telephonic
+    inquiry of police at Wels results that they left at 4.10 by the
+    express for Paris."
+
+"I have already telegraphed to Paris," Frémy said. "But there is time, of
+course, to get across to Paris, and meet the express from Constantinople
+on its arrival there. Our friends evidently know their way about the
+Continent!"
+
+"Shall we go to Paris," I suggested eagerly, anticipating in triumph
+their arrest as they alighted at the Gare de l'Est. I had travelled by
+the express from Vienna on one occasion about a year before, and
+remembered that it arrived in Paris about nine o'clock in the morning.
+
+"With the permission of my chief I will willingly accompany you,
+m'sieur," replied the detective, and, leaving me, he was absent for five
+minutes or so, while I sat gazing around his bare, official-looking
+bureau, where upon the walls were many police notices and photographs of
+wanted persons, "rats d'hotel," and other malefactors. Brussels is one of
+the most important police centres in Europe, as well as being the centre
+of the political secret service of the Powers.
+
+On his return he said:
+
+"Bien, m'sieur. We leave the Midi Station at midnight and arrive in Paris
+at half-past five. I will engage sleeping berths, and I will telephone to
+my friend, Inspector Dricot, at the Préfecture, to send an agent of the
+brigade mobile to meet us. Non d'un chien! What a surprise it will be for
+the fugitives. But," he added, "they are clever and elusive. Fancy, in
+order to go from Brussels to Paris they travel right away into Austria,
+and with through tickets to Belgrade, too! Yes, they know the routes on
+the Continent--the routes used by the international thieves, I mean. The
+Wels route by which they travelled, is one of them."
+
+Then I left him, promising to meet him at the station ten minutes before
+midnight. I had told Edwards I would notify him by wire any change of
+address, therefore, on leaving the Préfecture of Police, I went to the
+Grand and from there sent a telegram to him at Scotland Yard, telling him
+that I should call at the office of the inspector of police at the East
+railway station in Paris at ten on the following morning--if he had
+anything to communicate.
+
+All through that night we travelled on in the close, stuffy _wagon-lit_
+by way of Mons to Paris arriving with some three hours and a half to
+spare, which we idled in one of the all-night cafés near the station,
+having been met by a little ferret-eyed Frenchman, named Jappé, who had
+been one of Frémy's subordinates when he was in the French service.
+
+Just before nine o'clock, after our _café-au-lait_ in the buffet, we
+walked out upon the long arrival platform where the Orient Express from
+its long journey from Constantinople was due.
+
+It was a quarter of an hour late, but at length the luggage porters began
+to assemble, and with bated breath I watched the train of dusty
+sleeping-cars slowly draw into the terminus.
+
+In a moment Frémy and his colleague were all eyes, while I stood near the
+engine waiting the result of their quest.
+
+But in five minutes the truth was plain. Frémy was in conversation with
+one of the brown-uniformed conductors, who told him that the three
+passengers we sought did join at Wels, but had left again at Munich on
+the previous evening!
+
+My heart sank. Our quest was in vain. They had again eluded us!
+
+"I will go to Munich," Frémy said at once. "I may find trace of them
+yet."
+
+"And I will accompany you!" I exclaimed eagerly. "They must not escape
+us."
+
+But my plans were at once altered, and Frémy was compelled to leave for
+Germany alone, for at the police office at the station half an hour
+later I received a brief message from Edwards urging me to return to
+London immediately, and stating that an important discovery had been
+made.
+
+So I drove across to the Gare du Nord, and left for London by the next
+train.
+
+What, I wondered, had been discovered?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+EDWARDS BECOMES MORE PUZZLED.
+
+
+At half-past seven on that same evening, Edwards, in response to a
+telegram I sent him from Calais, called upon me in Albemarle Street.
+
+He looked extremely grave when he entered my room. After Haines had taken
+his hat and coat and we were alone, he said in a low voice:
+
+"Mr. Royle, I have a rather painful communication to make to you. I much
+regret it--but the truth must be faced."
+
+"Well?" I asked, in quick apprehension; "what is it?"
+
+"We have received from an anonymous correspondent--who turns out to be
+the woman Petre, whom you know--a letter making the gravest accusations
+against Miss Shand. She denounces her as the assassin of the girl Marie
+Bracq."
+
+"It's a lie! a foul, abominable lie!" I cried angrily. "I told you that
+she would seek to condemn the woman I love."
+
+"Yes, I recollect. But it is a clue which I am in duty bound to
+investigate."
+
+"You have not been to Miss Shand--you have not yet questioned her?" I
+gasped anxiously.
+
+"Not before I saw you," he replied. "I may as well tell you at once that
+I had some slight suspicion that the young lady in question was
+acquainted with your friend who posed as Sir Digby."
+
+"How?" I asked.
+
+He hesitated. "Well, I thought it most likely that as you and he were
+such great friends, you might have introduced them," he said, rather
+lamely.
+
+"But surely you are not going to believe the words of this woman Petre?"
+I cried. "Listen, and I will tell you how she has already endeavoured to
+take my life, and thus leave Miss Shand at her mercy."
+
+Then, as he sat listening, his feet stretched towards the fender, I
+related in detail the startling adventure which befel me at Colchester.
+
+"Extraordinary, Mr. Royle!" he exclaimed, in blank surprise. "Why, in
+heaven's name, didn't you tell me this before! The snake! Why, that is
+exactly the method used by Cane to secure the death of the real Sir
+Digby!"
+
+"What was the use of telling you?" I queried. "What is the use even now?
+The woman has fled and, at the same time, takes a dastardly revenge upon
+the woman I love."
+
+"Tell me, Mr. Royle," said the inspector, who, in his dinner coat and
+black tie, presented the appearance of the West End club man rather than
+a police official. "Have you yourself any suspicion that Miss Shand has
+knowledge of the affair?"
+
+His question non-plussed me for the moment.
+
+"Ah! I see you hesitate!" he exclaimed, shrewdly. "You have a
+suspicion--now admit it."
+
+He pressed me, and seeing that my demeanour had, alas! betrayed my
+thoughts, I was compelled to speak the truth.
+
+"Yes," I said, in a low, strained voice. "To tell you the truth,
+Edwards, there are certain facts which I am utterly unable to
+understand--facts which Miss Shand has admitted to me. But I still refuse
+to believe that she is a murderess."
+
+"Naturally," he remarked, and I thought I detected a slightly sarcastic
+curl of the lips. "But though Miss Shand is unaware of it, I have made
+certain secret inquiries--inquiries which have given astounding results,"
+he said slowly. "I have, unknown to the young lady, secured some of her
+finger-prints, which, on comparison, have coincided exactly with those
+found upon the glass-topped table at Harrington Gardens, and also with
+those which you brought to me so mysteriously." And he added, "To be
+quite frank, it was that action of yours which first aroused my suspicion
+regarding Miss Shand. I saw that you suspected some one--that you were
+trying to prove to your own satisfaction that your theory was wrong."
+
+I held my breath, cursing myself for such injudicious action.
+
+"Again, this letter from the woman Petre has corroborated my
+apprehensions," he went on. "Miss Shand was a friend of the man who
+called himself Sir Digby. She met him clandestinely, unknown, to
+you--eh?" he asked.
+
+"Please do not question me, Edwards," I implored. "This is all so
+extremely painful to me."
+
+"I regret, but it is my duty, Mr. Royle," he replied in a tone of
+sympathy. "Is not my suggestion the true one?"
+
+I admitted that it was.
+
+Then, in quick, brief sentences I told him of my visit to the Préfecture
+of Police in Brussels and all that I had discovered regarding the
+fugitives, to which he listened most attentively.
+
+"They have not replied to my inquiry concerning the dead girl Marie
+Bracq," he remarked presently.
+
+"They know her," I replied. "Van Huffel, the _Chef du Sureté_, stood
+aghast when I told him that the man Kemsley was wanted by you on a charge
+of murdering her. He declared that the allegation utterly astounded him,
+and that the press must have no suspicion of the affair, as a great
+scandal would result."
+
+"But who is the girl?" he inquired quickly.
+
+"Van Huffel refused to satisfy my curiosity. He declared that her
+identity was a secret which he was not permitted to divulge, but he added
+when I pressed him, that she was a daughter of one of the princely houses
+of Europe!"
+
+Edwards stared at me.
+
+"I wonder what is her real name?" he said, reflectively. "Really, Mr.
+Royle, the affair grows more and more interesting and puzzling."
+
+"It does," I said, and then I related in detail my fruitless journey to
+Paris, and how the three fugitives had alighted at Munich from the
+westbound express from the Near East, and disappeared.
+
+"Frémy, whom I think you know, has gone after them," I added.
+
+"If Frémy once gets on the scent he'll, no doubt, find them," remarked my
+companion. "He's one of the most astute and clever detectives in Europe.
+So, if the case is in his hands, I'm quite contented that all will be
+done to trace them."
+
+For two hours we sat together, while I related what the girl at Melbourne
+House had told me, and, in fact, put before him practically all that I
+have recorded in the foregoing pages.
+
+Then, at last, I stood before him boldly and asked:
+
+"In face of all this, can you suspect Miss Shand? Is she not that man's
+victim?"
+
+He did not speak for several moments; his gaze was fixed upon the fire.
+
+"Well," he replied, stirring himself at last, "to tell you the truth, Mr.
+Royle, I'm just as puzzled as you are. She may be the victim of this man
+we know to be an unscrupulous adventurer, but, at the same time, her hand
+may have used that triangular-bladed knife which we have been unable to
+find."
+
+The knife! I held my breath. Was it not lying openly upon that table in
+the corner of the drawing-room at Cromwell Road? Would not analysis
+reveal upon it a trace of human blood? Would not its possession in itself
+convict her?
+
+"Then what is your intention?" I asked, at last.
+
+"To see her and put a few questions, Mr. Royle," he answered slowly. "I
+know how much this must pain you, bearing in mind your deep affection for
+the young lady, but, unfortunately, it is my duty, and I cannot see how
+such a course can be avoided."
+
+"No. I beg of you not to do this," I implored. "Keep what observation you
+like, but do not approach her--at least, not yet. In her present frame of
+mind, haunted by the shadow of the crime and hemmed in by suspicion of
+which she cannot clear herself, it would be fatal."
+
+"Fatal! I don't understand you."
+
+"Well--she would take her own life," I said in a low whisper.
+
+"She has threatened--eh?" he asked.
+
+I nodded in the affirmative.
+
+"Then does not that, in itself, justify my decision to see and question
+her?"
+
+"No, it does not!" I protested. "She is not guilty, but this terrible
+dread and anxiety is, I know, gradually unbalancing her brain. She is a
+girl of calm determination, and if she believed that you suspected her
+she would be driven by sheer terror to carry out her threat."
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Most women threaten suicide at one time or other of their lives. Their
+thoughts seem to revert to romance as soon as they find themselves in a
+corner. No," he added. "I never believe in threats of suicide in either
+man or woman. Life is always too precious for that, and especially if a
+woman loves, as she does."
+
+"You don't know her."
+
+"No, but I know women, Mr. Royle--I know all their idiosyncrasies as well
+as most men, I think," he said.
+
+I begged him not to approach my well-beloved, but he was inexorable.
+
+"I must see her--and I must know the truth," he declared decisively.
+
+But I implored again of him, begging him to spare her--begged her life.
+
+I had gripped him by the hand, and looking into his face I pointed out
+that I had done and was doing all I could to elucidate the mystery.
+
+"At least," I cried, "you will wait until the fugitives are arrested!"
+
+"There is only one--the impostor," he said. "There is no charge against
+the others."
+
+"Then I will lay a charge to-night against the woman Petre and the man
+Ali of attempting to kill me." I said. "The two names can then be added
+to the warrant."
+
+"Very well," he said. "We'll go to the Yard, and I will take your
+information."
+
+"And you will not approach Phrida until you hear something from
+Brussels--eh?" I asked persuasively. "In the meantime, I will do all I
+can. Leave Miss Shand to me."
+
+"If I did it would be a grave dereliction of duty," he replied slowly.
+
+"But is it a dereliction of duty to disregard allegations made by a woman
+who has fled in that man's company, and who is, we now know, his
+accomplice?" I protested. "Did not you yourself tell me that you, at
+Scotland Yard, always regarded lightly any anonymous communication?"
+
+"As a rule we do. But past history shows that many have been genuine," he
+said. "Before the commission of nearly all the Jack the Ripper crimes
+there were anonymous letters, written in red ink. We have them now framed
+and hanging up in the Black Museum."
+
+"But such letters are not denunciations. They were promises of a further
+sensation," I argued. "The triumphant and gleeful declarations of the mad
+but mysterious assassin. No. Promise me, Edwards, that you will postpone
+this projected step of yours, which can, in any case, even though my love
+be innocent, only result in dire disaster."
+
+He saw how earnest was my appeal, and realised, I think, the extreme
+gravity of the situation, and how deeply it concerned me. He seemed,
+also, to recognise that in discovering the name of the victim and in
+going a second time to Brussels, I had been able to considerably advance
+the most difficult inquiry; therefore, after still another quarter of an
+hour of persuasion, I induced him to withhold.
+
+"Very well," he replied, "though I can make no definite promise, Mr.
+Royle. I will not see the lady before I have again consulted with you.
+But," he added, "I must be frank with you. I shall continue my
+investigations in that quarter, and most probably watch will be kept upon
+her movements."
+
+"And if she recognises that you suspect her?" I gasped.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed, with a slight shrug of the shoulders. "I cannot
+accept any responsibility for that. How can I?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+FURTHER ADMISSIONS.
+
+
+"The secret of Digby Kemsley is still a secret, and will ever remain a
+secret."
+
+I recollected Mrs. Petre uttering those words to me as that dark-faced
+villain Ali had forced my inert head down upon the table.
+
+Well, that same night when I had begged of Edwards my love's life, I sat
+in his room at Scotland Yard and there made a formal declaration of what
+had happened to me on that well-remembered night outside Colchester. I
+formally demanded the arrest of the woman, of Ali, and of the young
+man-servant, all of whom had conspired to take my life.
+
+The clerk calmly took down my statement, which Edwards read over to me,
+and I duly signed it.
+
+Then, gripping his hand, I went forth into Parliament Street, and took a
+taxi to Cromwell Road.
+
+I had not seen Phrida for several days, and she was delighted at my
+visit.
+
+She presented a pale, frail, little figure in her simple gown of pale
+pink ninon, cut slightly open at the neck and girdled narrow with
+turquoise blue. Her skirt was narrow, as was the mode, and her long
+white arms were bare to the shoulders.
+
+She had been curled up before the fire reading when I entered, but she
+jumped up with an expression of welcome upon her lips.
+
+But not until her mother had bade me good-night and discreetly withdrew,
+did she refer to the subject which I knew obsessed her by night and by
+day.
+
+"Well, Teddy," she asked, when I sat alone with her upon the pale green
+silk-covered couch, her little hand in mine, "Where have you been? Why
+have you remained silent?"
+
+"I've been in Brussels," I replied, and then, quite frankly, I explained
+my quest after the impostor.
+
+She sat looking straight before her, her eyes fixed like a person, in a
+dream. At last she spoke:
+
+"I thought," she said in a strained voice, "that you would have shown
+greater respect for me than to do that--when you knew it would place you
+in such great peril!"
+
+"I have acted in your own interests, dearest," I replied, placing my arm
+tenderly about her neck. "Ah! in what manner you will never know."
+
+"My interests!" she echoed, in despair. "Have I not told you that on the
+day Digby Kemsley is arrested I intend to end my life," and as she drew a
+long breath, I saw in her eyes that haunted, terrified look which told me
+that she was driven to desperation.
+
+"No, no," I urged, stroking her hair with tenderness. "I know all that
+you must suffer, Phrida, but I am your friend and your protector. I will
+never rest until I get at the truth."
+
+"Ah! Revelation of the truth will, alas! prove my undoing!" she
+whispered, in a voice full of fear. "You don't know, dear, how your
+relentless chase of that man is placing me in danger."
+
+"But he is an adventurer, an impostor--a fugitive from justice, and he
+merits punishment!" I cried.
+
+"Ah! And if you say that," she cried, wildly starting to her feet. "So do
+I! So do I!"
+
+"Come, calm yourself, dearest," I said, placing my hand upon her shoulder
+and forcing her back into her chair. "You are upset to-night," and I
+kissed her cold, white lips. "May I ring for Mallock? Wouldn't you like
+to go to your room?"
+
+She drew a deep sigh, and with an effort repressed the tears welling in
+her deep-set, haunted eyes.
+
+"Yes," she faltered in her emotion. "Perhaps I had better. I--I cannot
+bear this strain much longer. You told me that the police did not suspect
+me, but--but, now I know they do. A man has been watching outside the
+house all day for two days past. Yes," she sobbed, "they will come, come
+to arrest me, but they will only find that--that I've cheated them!"
+
+"They will not come," I answered her. "I happen to know more than I can
+tell you, Phrida," I whispered. "You need have no fear of arrest."
+
+"But that woman Petre! She may denounce me--she will, I know!"
+
+"They take no notice of such allegations at Scotland Yard. They receive
+too much wild correspondence," I declared. "No, dearest, go to bed and
+rest--rest quite assured that at present you are in no peril, and,
+further, that every hour which elapses brings us nearer a solution of the
+tragic and tantalising problem. May I ring for Mallock?" I asked, again
+kissing her passionately upon those lips, hard and cold as marble, my
+heart full of sympathy for her in her tragic despair.
+
+"Yes," she responded faintly in a voice so low that I could hardly catch
+it. So I crossed and rang the bell for her maid.
+
+Then, when she had kissed me good-night, looking into my eyes with a
+strange expression of wistfulness, and left the room, I dashed across to
+that little table whereon the ivory-hilted knife was lying and seized the
+important piece of evidence, so that it might not fall into Edwards'
+hands.
+
+I held it within my fingers, and taking it across to the fireplace,
+examined it in the strong light. The ivory was yellow and old, carved
+with the escutcheon bearing the three balls, the arms of the great House
+of Medici. The blade, about seven inches long, was keen, triangular, and,
+at the point, sharp as a needle. Into it the rust of centuries had eaten,
+though in parts it was quite bright, evidently due to recent cleaning.
+
+I was examining it for any stains that might be upon it--stains of the
+life-blood of Marie Bracq. But I could find none. No. They had been
+carefully removed, yet chemical analysis would, without doubt, reveal
+inevitable traces of the ghastly truth.
+
+I had my back to the door, and was still holding the deadly weapon in my
+hand, scrutinising it closely, when I heard a slight movement behind me,
+and turning, confronted Phrida, standing erect and rigid, like a statue.
+
+Her face was white as death, her thin hands clenched, her haunted eyes
+fixed upon me.
+
+"Ah! I see!" she cried hoarsely. "You know--eh? You _know_!"
+
+"No. I do not _know_, Phrida," was my deep reply, as I snatched her hand
+and held it in my own. "I only surmise that this knife was used on that
+fatal night, because of the unusual shape of its blade--because of the
+medical evidence that by such a knife Marie Bracq was killed."
+
+She drew a deep breath.
+
+"And you are taking it as evidence--against me!"
+
+"Evidence against you, darling!" I echoed in reproach. "Do you think that
+I, the man who loves you, is endeavouring to convict you of a crime? No.
+Leave matters to me. I am your friend--not your enemy!"
+
+A silence fell between us. She neither answered nor did she move for some
+moments. Then she said in a deep wistful tone:
+
+"Ah! if I could only believe that you are!"
+
+"But I am," I declared vehemently. "I love you, Phrida, with all my soul,
+and I will never believe ill of you--never, never!"
+
+"How can you do otherwise in these terrible circumstances?" she queried,
+with a strange contraction of her brows.
+
+"I love you, and because I love you so dearly--because you are all the
+world to me," I said, pressing her to my heart, "I will never accept what
+an enemy may allege--never, until you are permitted to relate your own
+story."
+
+I still held the weapon in my hand, and I saw that her eyes wandered to
+it.
+
+"Ah! Teddy!" she cried, with sudden emotion. "How can I thank you
+sufficiently for those words? Take that horrible thing and hide it--hide
+it anywhere from my eyes, for sight of it brings all the past back to me.
+Yet--yet I was afraid," she went on, "I dare not hide it, lest any one
+should ask what had become of it, and thus suspicions might be aroused.
+Ah! every time I have come into this room it has haunted me--I seem to
+see that terrible scene before my eyes--how--how they----"
+
+But she broke off short, and covering her face with both hands added,
+after a few seconds' silence:
+
+"Ah! yes, take it away--never let me gaze upon it again. But I beg of
+you, dear, to--to preserve my secret--my terrible secret!"
+
+And she burst into tears.
+
+"Not a single word shall pass my lips, neither shall a single soul see
+this knife. I will take it and cast it away--better to the bottom of the
+Thames. To-night it shall be in a place where it can never be found. So
+go to your room, and rest assured that you, darling, have at least one
+friend--myself."
+
+I felt her breast heave and fall as I held her in my strong embrace.
+
+Then without words she raised her white, tear-stained face and kissed me
+long and fondly; afterwards she left me, and in silence tottered from the
+room, closing the door after her.
+
+I still held the knife in my hand--the weapon by which the terrible deed
+had been perpetrated.
+
+What could I think? What would you, my reader, have thought if the woman
+you love stood in the same position as Phrida Shand--which God forbid?
+
+I stood reflecting, gazing upon the antique poignard. Then slowly and
+deliberately I made up my mind, and placing the unsheathed knife in my
+breast pocket I went out into the hall, put on my coat and hat, and left
+the house.
+
+Half an hour later I halted casually upon Westminster Bridge, and when no
+one was near, cast the ancient "Misericordia" into the dark flowing
+waters of the river, knowing that Edwards and his inquisitive assistants
+could never recover it as evidence against my love.
+
+Four days later I received a letter from Frémy, dated from the Hotel
+National at Strasbourg, stating that he had traced the fugitives from
+Munich to the latter city, but there he had lost all trace of them. He
+believed they had gone to Paris, and with his chief's permission he was
+leaving for the French capital that night.
+
+Weeks passed--weeks of terror and apprehension for my love, and of
+keenest anxiety for myself.
+
+The month of May went by, spring with all her beauties appeared in the
+parks and faded in the heat and dust, while the London season commenced.
+Men who were otherwise never seen in town, strolled up and down St.
+James's Street and Piccadilly, smart women rode in the Row in the morning
+and gave parties at night, while the usual crop of charitable functions,
+society scandals, Parliamentary debates, and puff-paragraphs in the
+papers about Lady Nobody's dances showed the gay world of London to be in
+full swing.
+
+My mantelshelf was well decorated with cards of invitation, for,
+nowadays, the bachelor in London can have a really good time if he
+chooses, yet I accepted few, spending most of my days immersed in
+business--in order to occupy my thoughts--while my evenings I spent at
+Cromwell Road.
+
+For weeks Phrida had not referred to the tragedy in any way, and I had
+been extremely careful to avoid the subject. Yet, from her pale, drawn
+countenance--so unlike her former self--I knew how recollection of it
+ever haunted her, and what dread terror had gripped her young heart.
+
+Mrs. Shand, ignorant of the truth, had many times expressed to me
+confidentially, fear that her daughter was falling into a bad state of
+health; and, against Phrida's wishes, had called in the family doctor,
+who, likewise ignorant, had ordered her abroad.
+
+"Get her out of the dullness of this road, Mrs. Shand," he had said. "She
+wants change and excitement. Take her to some gay place on the
+Continent--Dinard, Trouville, Aix-les-Bains, Ostend--some place where
+there is brightness and movement. A few weeks there will effect a great
+change in her, I'm certain."
+
+But Phrida refused to leave London, though I begged her to follow the
+doctor's advice, and even offered to accompany them.
+
+As far as I could gather, Van Huffel, in Brussels, had given up the
+search for the fugitives; though, the more I reflected upon his replies
+to my questions as to the real identity of Marie Bracq, the more
+remarkable they seemed.
+
+Who was she? That was the great problem uppermost always in my mind.
+Phrida had declared that she only knew her by that name--that she knew
+nothing further concerning her. And so frankly had she said this, that I
+believed her.
+
+Yet I argued that, if the death of Marie Bracq was of such serious moment
+as the _Chef du Sureté_ had declared, then he surely would not allow the
+inquiry to drop without making the most strenuous efforts to arrest those
+suspected of the crime.
+
+But were his suspicions, too, directed towards Phrida? Had he, I
+wondered, been in consultation with Edwards, and had the latter, in
+confidence, revealed to him his own theory?
+
+I held my breath each time that idea crossed my mind--as it did so very
+often.
+
+From Frémy I had had several letters dated from the Préfecture of Police,
+Brussels, but the tenor of all was the same--nothing to report.
+
+One thing gratified me. Edwards had not approached my love, although I
+knew full well, just as Phrida did, that day after day observation was
+being kept upon the house in Cromwell Road, yet perhaps only because the
+detective's duty demanded it. At least I tried to think so.
+
+Still the one fact remained that, after all our efforts--the efforts of
+Scotland Yard, of the Belgian police, and of my own eager inquiries--a
+solution of the problem was as far off as ever.
+
+Somewhere there existed a secret--a secret that, as Phrida had declared
+to me, was inviolable.
+
+Would it ever be revealed? Would the ghastly truth ever be laid bare?
+
+The affair of Harrington Gardens was indeed a mystery of London--as
+absolute and perfect an enigma of crime as had ever been placed before
+that committee of experts at Scotland Yard--the Council of Seven.
+
+Even they had failed to find a solution! How, then, could I ever hope to
+be successful?
+
+When I thought of it, I paced my lonely room in a frenzy of despair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+THE SELLER OF SHAWLS.
+
+
+After much eloquent persuasion on my part, and much straight talking on
+the part of the spectacled family doctor, and of Mrs. Shand, Phrida at
+last, towards the last days of June, allowed us to take her to Dinard,
+where, at the Hotel Royal, we spent three pleasant weeks, making many
+automobile excursions to Trouville, to Dinan, and other places in the
+neighbourhood.
+
+The season had scarcely commenced, nevertheless the weather was perfect,
+and gradually I had the satisfaction of seeing the colour return to the
+soft cheeks of my well-beloved.
+
+Before leaving London I had, of course, seen Edwards, and, knowing that
+watch was being kept upon her, I accepted the responsibility of reporting
+daily upon my love's movements, she being still under suspicion.
+
+"I ought not to do this, Mr. Royle," he had said, "but the circumstances
+are so unusual that I feel I may stretch a point in the young lady's
+favour without neglecting my duty. And after all," he added, "we have no
+direct evidence--at least not sufficient to justify an arrest."
+
+"Why doesn't that woman Petre come forward and boldly make her statement
+personally?" I had queried.
+
+"Well, she may know that you are still alive"--he laughed--"and if
+so--she's afraid to go further."
+
+I questioned him regarding his inquiries concerning the actual identity
+of Marie Bracq, but he only raised his eyebrows and replied:
+
+"My dear Mr. Royle, I know nothing more than you do. They no doubt
+possess some information in Brussels, but they are careful to keep it
+there."
+
+And so I had accompanied Phrida and her mother, hoping that the change of
+air and scenery might cause her to forget the shadow of guilt which now
+seemed to rest upon her and to crush all life and hope from her young
+heart.
+
+Tiring of Dinard, Mrs. Shand hired a big, grey touring-car, and together
+we went first through Brittany, then to Vannes, Nantes, and up to Tours,
+afterwards visiting the famous chateaux of Touraine, Amboise Loches, and
+the rest, the weather being warm and delightful, and the journey one of
+the pleasantest and most picturesque in Europe.
+
+When July came, Phrida appeared greatly improved in both health and
+spirits. Yet was it only pretence? Did she in the lonely watches of the
+night still suffer that mental torture which I knew, alas! she had
+suffered, for her own deep-set eyes, and pale, sunken cheeks had revealed
+to me the truth. Each time I sat down and wrote that confidential note to
+Edwards, I hated myself--that I was set to spy upon the woman I loved
+with all my heart and soul.
+
+Would the truth never be told? Would the mystery of that tragic January
+night in South Kensington never be elucidated?
+
+One evening in the busy but pleasant town of Tours, Mrs. Shand having
+complained of headache after a long, all-day excursion in the car, Phrida
+and I sauntered out after dinner, and after a brief walk sat down outside
+one of those big cafés where the tables are placed out beneath the leafy
+chestnut trees of the boulevard.
+
+The night was hot and stifling, and as we sat there chatting over our
+coffee amid a crowd of people enjoying the air after the heat of the day,
+a dark-faced, narrow-eyed Oriental in a fez, with a number of Oriental
+rugs and cheap shawls, came and stood before us, in the manner of those
+itinerant vendors who haunt Continental cafés.
+
+He said nothing, but, standing like a bronze statue, he looked hard at me
+and pointed solemnly at a quantity of lace which he held in his left
+hand.
+
+"No, I want nothing," I replied in French, shaking my head.
+
+"Ve-ry cheep, sare!" he exclaimed in broken English at last. "You no buy
+for laidee?" and he showed his white teeth with a pleasant grin.
+
+I again replied in the negative, perhaps a little impatiently, when
+suddenly Phrida whispered to me:
+
+"Why, we saw this same man in Dinard, and in another place--I forget
+where. He haunts us!"
+
+"These men go from town to town," I explained. "They make a complete
+round of France."
+
+Then I suddenly recollected that the man's face was familiar. I had seen
+him outside the Piccadilly Tube Station on the night of my tryst with
+Mrs. Petre!
+
+"Yes, laidee!" exclaimed the man, who had overheard Phrida's words. "I
+see you Dinard--Hotel Royal--eh?" he said with a smile. "Will you buy my
+lace--seelk lace; ve-ry cheep?"
+
+"I know it's cheap," I laughed; "but we don't want it."
+
+Nevertheless, he placed it upon the little marble-topped table for our
+inspection, and then bending, he whispered into my ear a question:
+
+"Mee-ster Royle you--eh?"
+
+"Yes," I said, starting.
+
+"I want see you, to-night, alone. Say no-ting to laidee till I see
+you--outside your hotel eleven o'clock, sare--eh?"
+
+I sat staring at him in blank surprise, but in a low voice I consented.
+
+Then, very cleverly he asked in his normal voice, looking at me with his
+narrow eyes, with dark brows meeting:
+
+"You no buy at that price--eh? Ah!" and he sighed as he gathered up his
+wares: "Cheep, laidee--very goot and cheep!"
+
+And bowing, he slung them upon the heavy pile already on his shoulder and
+stalked away.
+
+"What did he say?" Phrida asked when he had gone.
+
+"Oh, only wanted me to buy the lot for five francs!" I replied, for he
+had enjoined secrecy, and I knew not but he might be an emissary of Frémy
+or of Edwards. Therefore I deemed it best for the time to evade her
+question.
+
+Still, both excited and puzzled, I eagerly kept the appointment.
+
+When I emerged from the hotel on the stroke of eleven I saw the man
+without his pile of merchandise standing in the shadow beneath a tree, on
+the opposite side of the boulevard, awaiting me.
+
+Quickly I crossed to him, and asked:
+
+"Well, what do you want with me?"
+
+"Ah, Mee-ster Royle! I have watched you and the young laidee a long time.
+You travel so quickly, and I go by train from town to town--slowly."
+
+"Yes, but why?" I asked, as we strolled together under the trees.
+
+"I want to tell you some-zing, mee-ster. I no Arabe--I Senos, from
+Huacho."
+
+"From Huacho!" I gasped quickly.
+
+"Yees. My dead master he English--Sir Digby Kemsley!"
+
+"Sir Digby!" I cried. "And you were his servant. You knew this man
+Cane--why, you were the man who heard your master curse the man who
+placed the deadly reptile against his face. You made a statement to the
+police, did you not?" I asked frantically.
+
+"Yees, Mee-ster Royle--I did! I know a lot," he replied in his slow way,
+stalking along in the short breeches, red velvet jacket, and fez of an
+Oriental.
+
+"You will tell me, Senos?" I said. "You will tell me everything?" I
+urged. "Tell me all that you know!"
+
+He grinned in triumph, saying:
+
+"I know a lot--I know all. Cane killed my master--killed him with the
+snake--he and Luis together. I know--I saw. But the Englishman is always
+great, and his word believed by the commissary of police--not the word of
+Senos. Oh, no! but I have followed; I have watched. I have been beside
+Cane night and day when he never dream I was near. I tell the young lady
+all the truth, and--ah!--she tell him after I beg her to be silent."
+
+"But where is Cane now?" I asked eagerly. "Do you know?"
+
+"The 'Red' Englishman--he with Madame Petre and Luis--he call himself
+Ali, the Indian."
+
+"Where? Can you take me to them?" I asked. "You know there is a warrant
+out for their arrest?"
+
+"I know--but----"
+
+"But what?" I cried.
+
+"No, not yet. I wait," he laughed. "I know every-ting. He kill my master;
+I kill him. My master be very good master."
+
+"Yes, I know he was," I said.
+
+"That man Cane--very bad man. Your poor young laidee--ah? She not know
+me. I know her. You no say you see me--eh? I tell every-ting later. You
+go Ostend; I meet you. Then we see them."
+
+"At Ostend!" I cried. "Are they there?"
+
+"You go Ostend to-morrow. Tell me your hotel. Senos come--eh? Senos see
+them with you. Oh! Oh!" he said in his quaint way, grinning from ear to
+ear.
+
+I looked at the curious figure beside me. He was the actual man who had
+heard the dying cries of Sir Digby Kemsley.
+
+"But, tell me," I urged, "have you been in London? Do you know that a
+young lady died in Cane's apartment--was killed there?"
+
+"Senos knows," he laughed grimly. "Senos has not left him--ah, no! He
+kill my master. I never leave him till I crush him--never!"
+
+"Then you know, of what occurred at Harrington Gardens?" I repeated.
+
+"Yes, Senos know. He tell in Ostend when we meet," he replied. "You go
+to-morrow, eh?" and he looked at me anxiously with those dark, rather
+blood-shot eyes of his.
+
+"I will go to-morrow," I answered without hesitation; and, taking out my
+wallet I gave him three notes of a hundred francs each, saying:
+
+"This will pay your fare. I will go straight to the Grand Hotel, on the
+Digue. You will meet me there."
+
+"And the laidee--eh? She must be there too."
+
+"Yes, Miss Shand will be with me," I said.
+
+"Good, sare--very good!" he replied, thrusting the notes into the inner
+pocket of his red velvet jacket. "I get other clothes--these only to sell
+things," and he smiled.
+
+I tried to induce him to tell me more, but he refused, saying:
+
+"At Ostend Senos show you. He tell you all he know--he tell the truth
+about the 'Red' Englishman."
+
+And presently, after he had refused the drink I offered him, the
+Peruvian, who was earning his living as an Arab of North Africa, bowed
+with politeness and left me, saying:
+
+"I meet you, Mee-ster Royle, at Grand Hotel in Ostend. But be careful
+neither of you seen. They are sharp, clever, alert--oh, ve-ry! We leave
+to-morrow--eh? Good!"
+
+And a moment later the quaint figure was lost in the darkness.
+
+An hour later, though past midnight, I despatched two long telegrams--one
+to Frémy in Brussels, and the other to Edwards in London.
+
+Then, two days later, by dint of an excuse that I had urgent business in
+Ostend, I found myself with Phrida and Mrs. Shand, duly installed, in
+rooms overlooking the long, sunny Digue, one of the finest sea-promenades
+in Europe.
+
+Ostend had begun her season, the racing season had commenced, and all the
+hotels had put on coats of new, white paint, and opened their doors,
+while in the huge Kursaal they played childish games of chance now that
+M. Marquet was no longer king--yet the magnificent orchestra was worth a
+journey to listen to.
+
+On the afternoon of our arrival, all was gay and bright; outside the blue
+sea, the crowd of well-dressed promenaders, and the golden sands where
+the bathing was so merry and so chic.
+
+But I had no eyes for the beauties or gaiety of the place. I sat closeted
+in my room with two friends, Frémy and Edwards, whom I introduced and who
+quickly fraternised.
+
+A long explanatory letter I had written to Brussels had reached Frémy
+before his departure from the capital.
+
+"Excellent," he was saying, his round, clean-shaven face beaming. "This
+Peruvian evidently knows where they are, and like all natives, wants to
+make a _coup-de-theatre_. I've brought two reliable men with me from
+Brussels, and we ought--if they are really here--to make a good capture."
+
+"Miss Shand knows nothing, you say?" Edwards remarked, seated on the edge
+of my bed.
+
+"No. This man Senos was very decided upon the point."
+
+"He has reasons, no doubt," remarked the detective.
+
+"It is just four o'clock," I remarked. "He has given me a rendezvous at
+the Café de la Règence, a little place at the corner of the Place
+d'Armes. I went round to find it as soon as I arrived. We're due there in
+a quarter of an hour."
+
+"Then let us go, messieurs," Frémy suggested.
+
+"And what about Miss Shand?" I asked.
+
+The two detectives held a brief discussion. Then Edwards, addressing me,
+said:
+
+"I really think that she ought to be present, Mr. Royle. Would you bring
+her? Prepare her for a scene--as there no doubt will be--and then follow
+us."
+
+"But Senos will not speak without I am present," I said.
+
+"Then go along to Miss Shand, give her my official compliments and ask
+her to accompany us upon our expedition," he replied.
+
+And upon his suggestion I at once acted.
+
+Truly those moments were breathless and exciting. I could hear my own
+heart beat as I went along the hotel corridor to knock at the door of her
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+FACE TO FACE.
+
+
+We had, all four of us, ranged ourselves up under the wall of a big white
+house in the Chausee de Nieuport, which formed the south side of the
+racecourse, and where, between us and the sea, rose the colossal Royal
+Palace Hotel, when Frémy advanced to the big varnished oak door, built
+wide for the entrance of automobiles, and rang the electric bell.
+
+In response there came out a sedate, white-whiskered man-servant in black
+coat and striped yellow waistcoat, the novel Belgium livery, but in an
+instant he was pinioned by the two detectives from Brussels, and the way
+opened for us.
+
+"No harm, old one!" cried the detectives in French, after the man had
+admitted his master was at home. "We are police-agents, and doing our
+duty. We don't want you, only we don't intend you to cry out, that's all.
+Keep a still tongue, old one, and you're all right!" they laughed as they
+kept grip of him. The Continental detective is always humorous in the
+exercise of his duty. I once witnessed in Italy a man arrested for
+murder. He had on a thin light suit, and having been to bed in it, the
+back was terribly pleated and creased. "Hulloa!" cried the detective, "so
+it is you. Come along, old dried fig!" I was compelled to laugh, for the
+culprit's thin, brown coat had all the creases of a Christmas fig.
+
+The house we rushed in was a big, luxurious one, with a wide passage
+running through to the Garage, and on the left a big, wide marble
+staircase with windows of stained glass and statues of dancing girls of
+the art nouveau.
+
+Frémy, leaving his assistants below with the man-servant, and crying to
+Edwards to look out for anybody trying to escape, sprang up the marble
+steps three at a time, followed by the narrow-eyed Peruvian, while
+Phrida, clinging to my arm, held her breath in quick apprehension. She
+was full of fear and amazement.
+
+I had had much difficulty in persuading her to accompany us, for she
+seemed in terror of denunciation. Indeed, not until I told her that
+Edwards had demanded her presence, had she consented.
+
+On the first landing, a big, thick-carpeted place with a number of long,
+white doors leading into various apartments, Frémy halted and raised his
+finger in silence to us.
+
+He stood glancing from door to door, wondering which to enter.
+
+Then suddenly he stood and gave a yell as though of fearful pain.
+
+In an instant there was a quick movement in a room on the right, the door
+opened and the woman Petre came forth in alarm.
+
+Next second, however, finding herself face to face with me, she halted
+upon the threshold and fell back against the lintel of the door while we
+rushed in to encounter the man I had known as Digby, standing defiant,
+with arms folded and brows knit.
+
+"Well," he demanded of me angrily. "What do you want here?"
+
+"I've brought a friend of yours to see you, Mr. Cane," I said quietly,
+and Edwards stepped aside from the door to admit the Peruvian Senos.
+
+The effect was instant and indeed dramatic. His face fell, his eyes
+glared, his teeth set, and his nails dug themselves into his palms.
+
+"Mee-ster Cane," laughed the dark-faced native, in triumph. "You no like
+see Senos--eh? No, no. He know too much--eh? He watch you always after he
+see you with laidee in Marseilles--he see you in London--ha! ha! Senos
+know every-ting. You kill my master, and you----"
+
+"It's a lie!" cried the man accused. "This fellow made the same statement
+at Huacho, and it was disproved."
+
+"Then you admit you are not Sir Digby Kemsley?" exclaimed Edwards
+quickly. "You are Herbert Cane, and I have a warrant for your arrest for
+murder."
+
+"Ah!" he laughed with an air of forced gaiety. "That is amusing!"
+
+"I'm very glad you think so, my dear sir," remarked the detective,
+glancing round to where the woman Petre had been placed in an armchair
+quite unconscious.
+
+Phrida was clinging to my arm, but uttered no word. I felt her fingers
+trembling as she gripped me.
+
+"I suppose you believe this native--eh?" asked the accused with sarcasm.
+"He tried to blackmail me in Peru, and because I refused to be bled he
+made a statement that I had killed my friend."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed the native. "Senos knows--he see with his own eyes. He
+see Luis and you with snake in a box. Luis could charm snakes by music.
+Senos watch you both that night!"
+
+"Oh! tell what infernal lies you like," cried Cane in angry disgust.
+
+"You, the 'Red' Englishman, are well known in Peru, and so is your
+friend--the woman there, who help you in all your bad schemes," said
+Senos, indicating the inanimate form of Mrs. Petre. "You introduced her
+to my master, but he no like her--he snub her--so you send her to Lima to
+wait for you--till you kill him, and get the paper--eh? I saw you steal
+paper--big blue paper with big seals--from master's despatch-box after
+snake bite him."
+
+"Paper!" echoed Edwards. "What paper?"
+
+"Perhaps I can explain something," Frémy interrupted in French. "I learnt
+some strange facts only three days ago which throw a great deal of light
+on this case."
+
+"I don't want to listen to all these romances," laughed Cane defiantly.
+He was an astute and polished adventurer, one of the cleverest and most
+elusive in Europe, and he had all the adventurer's nonchalance and
+impudence. At this moment he was living in that fine house he had taken
+furnished for the summer and passing as Mr. Charles K. Munday, banker, of
+Chicago. Certainly he had so altered his personal appearance that at
+first I scarcely recognised him as the elegant, refined man whom I had so
+foolishly trusted as a friend.
+
+"But now you are under arrest, mon cher ami, you will be compelled to
+listen to a good many unpleasant reminders," Frémy remarked with a broad
+grin of triumph upon his round, clean-shaven face.
+
+"If you arrest me, then you must arrest that woman there, Phrida Shand,
+for the murder of Marie Bracq in my flat in London. She was jealous of
+her--and killed her with a knife she brought with her for the purpose,"
+Cane said with a laugh. "If I must suffer--then so must she! She killed
+the girl. She can't deny it!"
+
+"Phrida!" I gasped, turning to my love, who still clung to me
+convulsively. "You hear what this man says--this vile charge he brings
+against you--a charge of murder! Say that it is not the truth," I
+implored. "Tell me that he lies!"
+
+Her big eyes were fixed upon mine, her countenance blanched to the lips,
+and her breath came and went in short, quick gasps.
+
+At last her lips moved, as we all gazed at her. Her voice was only a
+hoarse, broken whisper.
+
+"I--I can't!" she replied, and fell back into my arms in a swoon.
+
+"You see!" laughed the accused man. "You, Royle, are so clever that you
+only bring grief and disaster upon yourself. I prevented Mrs. Petre from
+telling the truth because I thought you had decided to drop the affair."
+
+"What?" I cried. "When your accomplice--that woman Petre--made a
+dastardly attempt upon my life at your instigation, and left me for dead.
+Drop the affair--never! You are an assassin, and you shall suffer the
+penalty."
+
+"And so will Phrida Shand. She deceived you finely--eh? I admire her
+cleverness," he laughed "She was a thorough Sport, she----"
+
+"Enough!" commanded Edwards roughly. "I give you into the custody of
+Inspector Frémy, of the Belgian Sureté, on a charge of murder committed
+within the Republic of Peru."
+
+"And I also arrest the prisoner," added Frémy, "for offences committed in
+London and within the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg."
+
+The man, pale and haggard-eyed notwithstanding his bravado, started
+visibly at the famous detective's words, while at that moment the two men
+from Brussels appeared in the room, having released the white-whiskered
+man-servant, who stood aghast and astounded on the threshold. I supported
+my love, now quite unconscious, in my strong arms, and was trying to
+restore her, in which I was immediately aided by one of the detectives.
+
+The scene was an intensely dramatic one--truly an unusual scene to take
+place in the house of the sedate old Baron Terwindt, ancient Ministre de
+la Justice of Belgium.
+
+I was bending over my love and dashing water into her face when we were
+all suddenly startled by a loud explosion, and then we saw in Cane's hand
+a smoking revolver.
+
+He had fired at me--and, fortunately, missed me.
+
+In a second, however, the officers fell upon him, and after a brief but
+desperate struggle, in which a table and chairs were overturned, the
+weapon was wrenched from his grasp.
+
+"Eh! bien," exclaimed Frémy, when the weapon had been secured from the
+accused. "As you will have some unpleasant things to hear, you may as
+well listen to some of them now. You have denied your guilt. Well, I will
+tell Inspector Edwards what I have discovered concerning you and your
+cunning and dastardly treatment of the girl known as Marie Bracq."
+
+"I don't want to hear, I tell you!" he shouted in English. "If I'm
+arrested, take me away, put me into prison and send me over to England,
+where I shall get a fair trial."
+
+"But you shall hear," replied the big-faced official. "There is plenty of
+time to take you to Brussels, you know. Listen. The man Senos has alleged
+that you stole from the man you murdered a blue paper--bearing a number
+of seals. He is perfectly right. You sold that paper on the eighth of
+January last for a quarter of a million francs. Ah! my dear friend, you
+cannot deny that. The purchaser will give evidence--and what then?"
+
+Cane stood silent. His teeth were set, his gaze fixed, his grey brows
+contracted.
+
+The game was up, and he knew it. Yet his marvellously active mind was
+already seeking a way out. He was amazingly resourceful, as later on was
+shown, when the details of his astounding career came to be revealed.
+
+"Now the true facts are these--and perhaps mademoiselle and the man Senos
+will be able to supplement them--his Highness the Grand Duke of
+Luxemburg, about two years ago, granted to an American named Cassell a
+valuable concession for a strategic railway to run across his country
+from Echternach, on the eastern, or German, frontier of the Grand Duchy,
+to Arlon on the Belgian frontier, the Government of the latter State
+agreeing at the same time to continue the line direct to Sedan, and thus
+create a main route from Coblenz, on the Rhine, to Paris--a line which
+Germany had long wanted for military purposes, as it would be of
+incalculable value in the event of further hostilities with France. This
+concession, for which the American paid to the Grand Duke a considerable
+sum, was afterwards purchased by Sir Digby Kemsley--with his Highness's
+full sanction, he knowing him to be a great English railroad engineer.
+Meanwhile, as time went on, the Grand Duke was approached by the French
+Government with a view to rescinding the concession, as it was realised
+what superiority such a line would give Germany in the event of the
+massing of her troops in Eastern France. At first the Grand Duke refused
+to listen, but both Russia and Austria presented their protests, and his
+Highness found himself in a dilemma. All this was known to you, m'sieur
+Cane, through one Ludwig Mayer, a German secret agent, who inadvertently
+spoke about it while you were on a brief visit to Paris. You then
+resolved to return at once to Peru, make the acquaintance of Sir Digby
+Kemsley, and obtain the concession. You went, you were fortunate,
+inasmuch as he was injured and helpless, and you deliberately killed him,
+and securing the document, sailed for Europe, assuming the identity of
+the actual purchaser of the concession. Oh, yes!" he laughed, "you were
+exceedingly cunning and clever, for you did not at once deal with it. No,
+you went to Luxemburg. You made certain observations and inquiries. You
+stayed at the Hotel Brasseur for a week, and then, you were afraid to
+approach the Grand Duke with an offer to sell back the stolen concession,
+but--well, by that time you had resolved upon a very pretty and romantic
+plan of action," and he paused for a moment and gazed around at us.
+
+"Then robbery was the motive of the crime in Peru!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Certainly," Frémy replied. "But I will now relate how I came into the
+inquiry. In the last days of January, I was called in secret to Luxemburg
+by the Grand Duke, who, when we sat alone together, informed me that his
+only daughter Stephanie, aged twenty-one, who was a rather erratic young
+lady, and fond of travelling incognito, had disappeared. The last heard
+of her was three weeks before--in Paris--where she had, on her return
+from Egypt, been staying a couple of days at the Hotel Maurice with her
+aunt, the Grand Duchess of Baden, but she had packed her things and left,
+and nothing more had been heard of her. Search in her room, however, had
+revealed two letters, signed 'Phrida,' and addressed to a certain Marie
+Bracq."
+
+"Why, I never wrote to her in my life!" my love declared, for she had now
+regained her senses.
+
+"His Highness further revealed to me the fact that his daughter had,
+while in Egypt, made the acquaintance at the Hotel Savoy on the Island of
+Elephantine, of the great English railroad engineer, Sir Digby Kemsley,
+who had purchased a railway concession he had given, and which he was
+exceedingly anxious to re-purchase and thus continue on friendly terms
+with France. His daughter, on her return to Luxemburg, and before going
+to Paris, had mentioned her acquaintance with Sir Digby, and that he held
+the concession. Therefore, through her intermediary, Sir Digby--who was,
+of course, none other than this assassin, Cane--went again to Luxemburg
+and parted with the important document for a quarter of a million francs.
+That was on the eighth of January."
+
+"After the affair at Harrington Gardens," Edwards remarked.
+
+"Yes; after the murder of Marie Bracq, he lost no time in disposing of
+the concession."
+
+"It's a lie!" cried the accused. "That girl there killed her. I
+didn't--she was jealous of her!"
+
+My love shrank at the man's words, yet still clinging to me, her
+beautiful countenance pale as death, her lips half parted, her eyes
+staring straight in front of her.
+
+"Phrida," I said in a low voice, full of sympathy, "you hear what this
+man has alleged? Now that the truth is being told, will you, too, not
+speak? Speak!" I cried in my despair, "speak, dearest, I beg of you!"
+
+"No," she sighed. "You--you would turn from me--you would hate me!"
+
+And at her words Cane burst into a peal of harsh, triumphant laughter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+SHOWS THE TRUTH-TELLER.
+
+
+"Speak, laidee," urged the Peruvian. "Speak--tell truth. Senos know--he
+know!"
+
+But my love was still obdurate.
+
+"I prefer to face death," she whispered, "than to reveal the bitter truth
+to you, dear."
+
+What could I do? The others heard her words, and Cane was full of
+triumph.
+
+"I think, Miss Shand, that you should now tell whatever you know of this
+complicated affair. The truth will certainly have to be threshed out in a
+criminal court."
+
+But she made no answer, standing there, swaying slightly, with her white
+face devoid of expression.
+
+"Let Senos tell you some-tings," urged the narrow-eyed native. "When that
+man kill my master he fly to Lisbon. There Mrs. Petre meet him and go
+London. There he become Sir Digby Kemsley, and I see him often, often,
+because I crossed as stoker on same boat. He go to Luxemburg. I follow.
+One day he see Grand Duke's daughter--pretty young laidee--and somebody
+tell him she go to Egypt. She go, and he follow. I wait in Marseilles. I
+sell my rugs, wait three, four weeks and meet each steamer from
+Alexandria. At last he come with three laidees, and go to the Louvre et
+Paix, where I sell my rugs outside the café. I see he always with
+her--walking, driving, laughing. I want to tell her the truth--that the
+man is not my master, but his assassin. Ah! but no opportunity. They go
+to Paris. Then she and the laidees go to Luxemburg, and he to London. I
+follow her, and stay in Luxemburg to sell my shawls, and to see her. She
+drive out of the palace every day. Once I try and speak to her, but
+police arrest me and keep me prison two days--ugh! After a week she with
+another laidee go to Paris; then she alone go to Carlton Hotel in London.
+I watch there and see Cane call on her. He no see me--ah, no! I often
+watch him to his home in Harrington Gardens; often see him with that
+woman Petre, and once I saw Luis with them. I have much patience till one
+day the young lady leave the hotel herself and walk along Pall Mall. I
+follow and stop her. She very afraid of dark man, but I tell her no be
+afraid of Senos. Quick, in few words, I tell her that her friend not my
+master, Sir Digby--only the man who killed him. She dumbstruck. Tells me
+I am a liar, she will not believe. I repeat what I said, and she declares
+I will have to prove what I say. I tell her I am ready, and she askes me
+to meet her at same place and same time to-morrow. She greatly excited,
+and we part. Senos laughs, for he has saved young laidee--daughter of a
+king--from that man."
+
+"What? You actually told her Highness!" cried Frémy in surprise.
+
+"I told her how my master had been killed by that man--with the
+snake--and I warned her to avoid him. But she hesitated to believe
+Senos," was the native's reply. "Of course, she not know me. That was
+date six January. I remember it, for that night, poor young laidee--she
+die. She killed!"
+
+"What?" Edwards cried, staring at the speaker. "She was killed, you say?"
+
+"Yes," Frémy interrupted, "Marie Bracq was the name assumed by her
+Highness, the daughter of the Grand Duke. She loved freedom from all the
+trammels of court life, and as I have told you, went about Europe with
+her maid as her companion, travelling in different names. Mademoiselle
+Marie Bracq was one that it seems she used, only we did not discover this
+until after her death, and after his Highness had paid the quarter of a
+million francs to regain the concession he had granted--money which, I
+believe, the French Government really supplied from their secret service
+fund."
+
+"Then it was the daughter of the Grand Duke who fell a victim in Cane's
+flat?" I gasped in utter surprise at this latest revelation.
+
+"Yes, m'sieur," replied Frémy. "You will recollect, when you told us at
+the Préfecture of the name of the victim, how dumbfounded we were."
+
+"Ah, yes, I recollect!" I said. "I remember how your chief point-blank
+refused to betray the confidence reposed in him."
+
+And to all this the assassin of Sir Digby Kemsley listened without a
+word, save to point to my love, and declare:
+
+"There stands the woman who killed Marie Bracq. Arrest her!"
+
+Phrida stood rigid, motionless as a statue.
+
+"Yes," she exclaimed at last, with all her courage, "I--I will speak.
+I--I'll tell you everything. I will confess, for I cannot bear this
+longer. And yet, dearest," she cried, turning her face to me and looking
+straight into my eyes, "I love you, though I now know that after I have
+spoken--after I have told the truth--you will despise and hate me! Ah,
+God alone knows how I have suffered! how I have prayed for deliverance
+from this. But it cannot be. I have sinned, I suppose, and I must bear
+just punishment."
+
+There was silence.
+
+We all looked at her, though the woman Petre was still lying in her chair
+unconscious, and upon the assassin's lips was a grim smile.
+
+"You recollect," Phrida said, turning to me, "you remember the day when
+you introduced that man to me. Well, from that hour I knew no peace. He
+wrote to me, asking me to meet him, as he had something to tell me
+concerning my future. Well, I foolishly met him one afternoon in
+Rumpelmeyer's, in St. James's Street, when he told me that he had
+purchased a very important German patent for the manufacture of certain
+chemicals which would revolutionise prices, and would bring upon your
+firm inevitable ruin, as you pursued the old-fashioned methods. But,
+being your friend, and respecting us both, he had decided not to go
+further with the new process, and though he had given a large sum of
+money for it, he would, in our mutual interests, not allow it to be
+developed. Naturally, in my innocence I thanked him, and from that
+moment, professing great friendliness towards you, we became friends.
+Sometimes I met him at the houses of friends, but he always impressed
+upon me the necessity of keeping our acquaintance a secret."
+
+And she paused, placing her hand upon her heart as though to stay its
+throbbing.
+
+"One afternoon," she resumed, "the day of the tragedy, I received a
+telegram urging me to meet him without fail at five o'clock at
+Rumpelmeyer's. This I did, when he imparted to me a secret--that you,
+dear, were in the habit of meeting, at his flat, a foreign woman named
+Marie Bracq, daughter of a hair-dresser in the Edgware Road; that you,
+whom I loved, were infatuated with her, and--and that----"
+
+"The liar!" I cried.
+
+"He told me many things which naturally excited me, and which, loving you
+as I did, drove me to madness. I refused at first to heed his words, for
+somehow I mistrusted him--I know not why! But he offered to give me
+proof. If I went that night, or early in the morning, to Harrington
+Gardens, I would find her there, and I might question her. Imagine my
+state of mind after what he had revealed to me. I promised I would come
+there in secret, and I went home, my mind full of the lies and suspicion
+which he had, I now see, so cleverly suggested. I didn't then know him to
+be an assassin, but, mistrusting him as I did, I took for my own
+protection the old knife from the table in the drawing-room, and
+concealed it inside my blouse. At one o'clock next morning I crept out of
+the house noiselessly, and walked to Harrington Gardens, where I opened
+the outer door with the latch-key he had given me. On ascending to his
+flat I heard voices--I heard your voice, dear--therefore I descended into
+the dark and waited--waited until you came down the stairs and left. I
+saw you, and I was mad--mad! Then I went up, and he admitted me. The trap
+was already laid for me. I crossed that threshold to my doom!"
+
+"How?" I asked in my despair. "Tell me all, Phrida,--everything!"
+
+But at this point the Peruvian, Senos, interrupted, saying:
+
+"Let me speak, sare. I tell you," he cried quickly.
+
+"When I speak to the lady in Pall Mall I follow her. She go that
+afternoon to Harrington Gardens, but there see Mrs. Petre, whom she
+already know. Mrs. Petre find her excited, and after questioning her,
+induce her to tell her what I say--that Cane he kill my master. Then Mrs.
+Petre say, Sir Digby away in the country--not return to London--at
+Paddington--till one o'clock in the morning. I listen to it all, for
+Senos friend of the hall-porter--eh? So young laidee she says she come
+late in the night--half-past one or two o'clock--and ask himself the
+truth. But Cane in his room all the time, of course."
+
+"Well, Phrida?" I asked quickly. "Tell us what happened on that night
+when you entered."
+
+"Yes," cried Cane sarcastically, "Lie to them--they'll believe you, of
+course!"
+
+"When I entered that man took me into the sitting-room, and I sat down.
+Naturally I was very upset. Mrs. Petre, whom I had met before, was there,
+and after he had told me many things about your relations with the
+daughter of a hair-dresser--things which maddened me--Mrs. Petre admitted
+her from the adjoining room. I was mad with jealousy, loving you as I
+did. What happened between us I do not know. I--I only fear that--that I
+took the knife from my breast and, in a frenzy of madness--killed her!"
+And she covered her face with her hands.
+
+"Exactly!" cried Cane. "I'm glad you have the moral courage to admit it."
+
+"But describe exactly what occurred--as far as you know," Edwards said,
+pressing her.
+
+"I know that I was in a frenzy of passion, and hysterical, perhaps," she
+said at last. "I recollect Mrs. Petre saying that I looked very unwell,
+and fetching me some smelling-salts from the next room. I smelt them, but
+the odour was faint and strange, and a few moments later I--well, I knew
+no more."
+
+"And then--afterwards?" I asked very gravely.
+
+"When, later on I came to my senses," she said in slow, hard tones, as
+though reflecting, "I found the girl whom I believed to be my rival in
+your affections lying on the ground. In her breast was the knife. Ah,
+shall I ever forget that moment when I realised what I had done! Cane was
+bending over me, urging me to remain calm. He told me that my rival was
+dead--that I had killed her and that she would not further interfere with
+my future. I--I saw him bend over the body, withdraw the knife, and wipe
+it upon his handkerchief, while that woman, his accomplice, looked on.
+Then he gave me back the knife, which instinctively I concealed, and bade
+me go quickly and noiselessly back home, promising secrecy, and declaring
+that both he and Mrs. Petre would say nothing--that my terrible secret
+was safe in their hands. I believed them, and I crept down the stairs out
+into the road, and walked home to Cromwell Road. I replaced the knife in
+the drawing-room, and I believed them until--until I knew that you
+guessed my secret! Then came that woman's betrayal, and I knew that my
+doom was sealed," she added, her chin sinking upon her breast.
+
+"You see," laughed Cane defiantly, "that the girl admits her guilt. She
+was jealous of Marie Bracq, and in a frenzy of passion struck her down.
+Mrs. Petre was there and witnessed it. She will describe it all to you,
+no doubt, when she recovers."
+
+"And what she will say is one big lie," declared Senos, coming forward
+again. "We all know Mrs. Petre," he laughed in his high-pitched voice;
+"she is your tool--she and Luis. But he become a snake-charmer and give
+exhibitions at music-halls. He bit by one snake at Darlington, a month
+ago, and die quick. Ah, yes! Senos know! Snake bite him, because he
+brought snake and give him to that man to bite my poor master."
+
+"Why will Mrs. Petre tell lies, Senos?" demanded Edwards who, with Frémy,
+was listening with the greatest interest and putting the threads of the
+tangled skein together in their proper sequence.
+
+"Because I, Senos, was at Harrington Gardens that night. I knew that the
+laidee I had spoken to was going there, and I feared that some-ting might
+happen, for Cane a desperate man when charged with the truth."
+
+"You were there!" I gasped. "What do you know?"
+
+"Well, this," said the narrow-eyed man who had hunted down the assassin
+of his master. "I waited outside the house--waited some hours--when about
+eleven Cane he came down and unfastened the door and leave it a little
+open. I creep in, and soon after you, Mr. Royle, you come in. I wait and
+see you go upstairs. Then I creep up and get out of the window on the
+landing and on to the roof, where I see inside Cane's room--see all that
+goes on. My friend, the hall-porter, he tell me this sometime before, and
+I find the spot where, kneeling down, I see between the blinds. I see you
+talk with him and I see you go. Then I see Miss Shand--she come in and
+Mrs. Petre, and Cane talk to her. She very excited when she meet young
+laidee, and Mrs. Petre she give her bottle to smell. Then she faint off.
+The laidee, daughter of great Duke, she say something to Cane. He
+furious. She repeat what I say to her. Then Mrs. Petre, who had given
+Miss Shand the smelling-salts, find knife in her breast and secretly puts
+it into Cane's hand. In a moment Cane strikes the young lady with it--ah!
+full in the chest--and she sinks on the floor--dead! It went into her
+heart. Cane and the woman Petre talk in low whispers for few minutes,
+both very afraid. Then Miss Shand she wakes, opens her eyes, and sees the
+young laidee dead on the floor. She scream, but Mrs. Petre puts her hand
+over her mouth. Cane take out the knife, wipe it, and after telling her
+something, Miss Shand creep away. Oh, yes, Senos he see it all! Miss
+Shand quite innocent--she do nothing. Cane kill daughter of the great
+Duke--he with his own hand--he kill her. Senos saw him--with his own
+eyes!"
+
+"Ah!" I cried, rushing towards the native, and gripping both his brown
+hands. "Thank you, Senos, for those words. You have saved the woman I
+love, for you are an eye-witness to that man's crime which with such
+subtle ingenuity he has endeavoured to fasten upon her, and would have
+succeeded had it not been for your dogged perseverance and astuteness."
+
+"He kill my master," replied the Peruvian simply. "I watch him and
+convict him. He bad assassin, gentlemens--very bad man!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+IS THE CONCLUSION.
+
+
+"Do you really believe that man?" asked Cane, turning to us quite coolly,
+a sarcastic smile upon his lips.
+
+He was a marvellous actor, for he now betrayed not the slightest
+confusion. He even laughed at the allegations made against him. His bold
+defiance utterly amazed us. Yet we knew now how resourceful and how
+utterly unscrupulous he was.
+
+"Yes, I do!" was the officer's reply. "You murdered her Highness, fearing
+that she should go to her father and expose you before you could have
+time to dispose of your stolen concession to him. Had she gone to him,
+the police would hunt you down as Sir Digby's assassin. But by closing
+her lips you hoped to be able to sell back the concession and still
+preserve your guilty secret."
+
+"Of course," remarked Frémy, "the whole affair is now quite plain. Poor
+Miss Shand was drawn into the net in order to become this scoundrel's
+victim. He intended from the first to make use of her in some way, and
+did so at last by making her believe she had killed her alleged rival in
+Mr. Royle's affection. Truly this man is a clever and unscrupulous
+scoundrel, for he succeeded in obtaining a quarter of a million francs
+from a reigning sovereign for a document, to obtain which he had
+committed a foul and dastardly crime!"
+
+"A lie--lies, all of it!" shouted the accused angrily, his face as white
+as paper.
+
+"Oh, do not trouble," laughed Frémy, speaking in French. "You will have
+an opportunity to make your defence before the judge--you and your
+ingenious accomplice, Mrs. Petre."
+
+"We want her in England for the attempted murder of Mr. Royle," Edwards
+remarked. "I'll apply for her extradition to-morrow. Your chief will, no
+doubt, decide to keep Cane here--at least, for the present. We shall want
+him for the murder of the Englishman, Sir Digby Kemsley."
+
+"You may want me," laughed the culprit with an air of supreme defiance,
+"but you'll never have me! Oh, no, no! I'll remain over here, and leave
+you wanting me."
+
+"Prisoner, what is the use of these denials and this defiance?" asked
+Frémy severely in French, advancing towards him. "You are in my
+custody--and under the law of the Kingdom of Belgium I arrest you for the
+murder of Sir Digby Kemsley, in Peru, and for the murder of Stephanie,
+daughter of his Highness the Grand Duke of Luxemburg." Then, turning to
+his two subordinates, he added briefly: "Put the handcuffs on him! He may
+give trouble!"
+
+"Handcuffs! Ha, ha!" cried Senos the Peruvian, laughing and snapping his
+brown fingers in the prisoner's face. "It is my triumph now. Senos has
+avenged the death of his poor, good master!"
+
+"A moment," exclaimed the prisoner. "I may at least be permitted to
+secure my papers before I leave here, and hand them over to you? They
+will, perhaps, interest you," he said quite coolly. Then he took from his
+watch-chain a small key, and with it opened a little cupboard in the
+wall, from whence he took a small, square deed-box of japanned tin, which
+he placed upon the table before us.
+
+With another and smaller key, and with a slight grin upon his face, he
+opened the lid, but a cry of dismay escaped us, for next second we saw
+that he held in his hand a small, black object, sinuous and writhing--a
+small, thin, but highly venomous black snake!
+
+It was over in an instant, ere we could realise the truth. Upon his white
+wrist I saw a tiny bead of blood, where the reptile had struck and bitten
+him, and as he flung it back into the box and banged down the lid he
+turned upon us in defiance, and said:
+
+"Now take me! I am ready," he cried, uttering a peal of fiendish
+laughter. "Carry me where you will, for in a few moments I shall be dead.
+Ah! yes, my good friends! I have played the great game--and lost. Yet
+I've cheated you all, as I always declared that I would."
+
+The two men sprang forward to slip the metal gyves upon his wrists, but
+Frémy, noticing the instant change in the assassin's countenance,
+motioned them off.
+
+The culprit's face grew ashen grey, his thin jaws were fixed. He tried to
+utter some further words, but no sound came from him, only a low gurgle.
+
+We stood by and watched. He placed both his palms to his brow and stood
+for a few seconds in the centre of the room. Then a paroxysm of pain
+seemed to double him completely up, and he fell to the carpet writhing in
+most fearful agony. It was horrible to witness, and Phrida, with a cry,
+turned away.
+
+Then suddenly he lay stiff, and stretched his limbs to such an extent
+that we could hear the bones crack. His back became arched, and then he
+expired with horrible convulsions, which held his limbs stiffened and
+extended to their utmost limits--truly, the most awful and agonising of
+deaths, and a torture in the last moments that must have been
+excruciating--a punishment worse, indeed, than any that man-made law
+might allow.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As Herbert Cane paid the penalty of his crimes the woman Petre at last
+recovered consciousness.
+
+I saw the look of abject terror upon her face as her eyes fell upon the
+man lying dead upon the carpet before us.
+
+She realised the terrible truth at once, and giving vent to a loud,
+hysterical scream, rose and threw herself on her knees beside the man
+whose wide-open eyes, staring into space, were fast glazing in death.
+
+Edwards bent, and asked in a low voice whether I wished to give her into
+custody for the attempt upon me.
+
+But I replied in the negative.
+
+"The assassin has received his just punishment and must answer to his
+Maker," I replied. "That is enough. This scene will assuredly be a lesson
+to her."
+
+"She falsely accused Miss Shand, remember," he said. "She knew all the
+time that Cane struck the poor girl down."
+
+"No," I replied. "Now that the stigma has been removed from the one I
+love, I will be generous. I will prefer no charge against her."
+
+"Ah! dearest," cried Phrida, "I am glad of that. Let us forgive, and
+endeavour, if possible, to forget these dark, black days and weeks when
+both our lives were blighted, and the future seemed so hopeless and full
+of tragedy."
+
+"Yes," I said, "let us go forth and forget."
+
+And with a last glance at the dead man, with the woman with dishevelled
+hair kneeling in despair at his side, I took the arm of my beloved, and
+kissing her before them all, led her out, away from the scene so full of
+bitterness and horror.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+To further prolong the relation of this tragic chapter of my life's
+history would serve no purpose.
+
+What more need I tell you than to say Mrs. Petre disappeared entirely,
+apparently thankful to escape, and that at St. Mary Abbots, in
+Kensington, a month ago, Phrida and I became man and wife, both Edwards
+and Frémy being present.
+
+As I pen these final lines I am sitting upon the balcony of the great
+Winter Palace Hotel, in Luxor, within sight of the colossal ruins of
+Karnak, for we are spending a delightful honeymoon in Upper Egypt, that
+region where the sun always shines and rain never falls. Phrida, in her
+thin white cotton gown and white sun helmet, though it is January, is
+seated beside me, her little hand in mine. Below us, in the great
+garden, rise the high, feathery palms, above a riot of roses and
+poinsettias, magnolias, and other sweet-smelling flowers.
+
+It is the silent, breathless hour of the desert sunset. Before us, away
+beyond the little strip of vegetation watered by the broad, ever-flowing
+Nile, the clear, pale green sky is aflame with crimson, a sunset mystic
+and wonderful, such as one only sees in Egypt, that golden land of the
+long-forgotten.
+
+From somewhere behind comes up the long-drawn nasal song of an Arab
+boatman--that quaint, plaintive, sing-song rhythm accompanied by a
+tom-tom, which encourages the rowers to bend at their oars, while away
+still further behind across the river, lays the desolate ruins of the
+once-powerful Thebes, and that weird, arid wilderness which is so
+impressive--the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings.
+
+Phrida has been reading what I have here written, and as I kiss her sweet
+lips, she looks lovingly into my eyes and says:
+
+"It is enough, dearest. Say that you and I are happy--ah! so supremely
+happy at last, in each other's love. No pair in the whole world could
+trust each other as we have done. I know that I was guilty of a very
+grave fault--the fault of concealing my friendship with that man from
+you. But I foolishly thought I was acting in your interests--that being
+your friend, he was mine also. I never dreamed that such a refined face
+could hide so black and vile a heart."
+
+"But I have forgiven all, darling," I hasten to reassure her! "I know now
+what a clever and ingenious scoundrel that man was, and how full of
+resource and amazing cunning. You were his victim, just as I was
+myself--just as were the others. No," I add, "life, love, and happiness
+are before us. So let us learn to forget."
+
+And as our lips meet once again in a long, fond, passionate caress, I lay
+down my pen in order to press her more closely to my breast.
+
+She is mine--my own beloved--mine for now and evermore.
+
+THE END.
+
+Butler & Tanner Frome and London
+
+
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+New and Recent Fiction.
+
+
+Finished
+
+H. RIDER HAGGARD.
+
+Here we have Mr. Rider Haggard at his best. The book is alive with
+adventure, and characters black and white.
+
+Mr. Haggard makes all his characters interesting; they live for us, no
+matter how extraordinary the circumstances, and these circumstances are
+described in such a way, so vividly and yet so quietly, that we accept
+them without question. "Finished" is indeed as full of good points as it
+is of adventures.
+
+
+Thorgils of Treadholt
+
+MAURICE HEWLETT.
+
+This new work by the author of "The Forest Lovers" is told with the
+wealth of detail and vivid actuality which have made the author's
+excursions into primitive Scandinavian history and legend as fascinating
+and as strongly human in their appeal as the mediæval romances which
+first made him famous.
+
+
+Carmen's Messenger
+
+HAROLD BINDLOSS.
+
+Mr. Bindloss is an author who can deftly use sensationalism to his
+purpose without forcing it for mere effect, and who can also depict the
+character of a strong man as honest as determined in love with a sweet
+woman. He tells a story with rare skill.
+
+
+Lonesome Heights
+
+HALLIWELL SUTCLIFFE.
+
+A thoroughly enjoyable story, without a dull page, and in the front rank
+of the author's work. Plot and characterisation are equally good.
+
+
+The Just Men of Cordova
+
+EDGAR WALLACE.
+
+An adventure story dealing with another episode in the career of the
+"Four Just Men" who have appeared in several of Mr Wallace's most popular
+novels.
+
+
+The Rattlesnake
+
+KATHARINE TYNAN.
+
+A strong knowledge of human nature, for which Katharine Tynan is famous,
+is well portrayed in the pages of this novel, and this, in conjunction
+with the interesting nature of the plot, renders it particularly
+successful. The book will be appreciated by novel readers.
+
+
+Adam
+
+PAUL TRENT.
+
+A strikingly original novel. It tells of a young man who is kept in
+seclusion and entirely without knowledge of the world until the age of
+twenty-one. His development, especially from the religious standpoint, is
+strikingly realistic and enthralling. A novel likely to be talked about.
+
+MORNING POST.--"Mr. Paul Trent tells a tale well. He has a narrative
+style that grips and interests, and we are grateful to him for a real and
+enjoyable story."
+
+
+No Greater Love
+
+WILLIAM LE QUEUX.
+
+A remarkable story, crowded with the most exciting situations, and
+bristling with crimes which only the brain of a most versatile author
+could conceive.
+
+THE SCOTSMAN.--"Few novelists, if any, surpass Mr. Wm. Le Queux in the
+art of making a frankly and formidably melodramatic story go with
+alluring lightness in its intensity."
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+TWO-SHILLING FICTION
+
+_Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt. With Illustrations. 2/- net._
+
+    1 =Lawrence Clavering=                           A. E. W. Mason
+    3 =Limitations=                                    E. F. Benson
+    7 =Roger Trewinion=                              Joseph Hocking
+    8 =Half a Hero=                                    Anthony Hope
+    9 =Ayesha=                                     H. Rider Haggard
+   10 =A Study in Scarlet=                           A. Conan Doyle
+   12 =To Leeward=                               F. Marion Crawford
+   13 =Comedies of Courtship=                               A. Hope
+   16 =Lady Barbarity=                                 J. C. Snaith
+   17 =As We Forgive Them=                             Wm. Le Queux
+   18 =Hawtrey's Deputy=                            Harold Bindloss
+   19 =The Peer and the Woman=                      E. P. Oppenheim
+   20 =Sylvia's Chauffeur=                              Louis Tracy
+   21 =Mr. Witt's Widow=                               Anthony Hope
+   22 =The Unknown Lady=                           Justus M. Forman
+   24 =Lord Stranleigh, Philanthropist=                 Robert Barr
+   25 =The Master Mummer=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+   27 =The Protector=                               Harold Bindloss
+   28 =The Postmaster of Market Deignton=           E. P. Oppenheim
+   29 =The Sign of the Stranger=                       Wm. Le Queux
+   31 =The Pioneer=                                 Harold Bindloss
+   32 =False Evidence=                              E. P. Oppenheim
+   33 =The Tickencote Treasure=                        Wm. Le Queux
+   34 =Mirabel's Island=                                Louis Tracy
+   35 =White Walls=                                   Max Pemberton
+   36 =The Lovers=                                  Eden Phillpotts
+   38 =The Vow=                                          Paul Trent
+   39 =The Purple Robe=                              Joseph Hocking
+   40 =The Trustee=                                 Harold Bindloss
+   41 =Expiation=                                   E. P. Oppenheim
+   42 =Mysteries=                                      Wm. Le Queux
+   43 =The Foundling=                                    Paul Trent
+   44 =The Betrayal=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+   45 =The Wastrel=                                 Harold Bindloss
+   46 =The Room of Secrets=                            Wm. Le Queux
+   47 =The Opening Door=                           Justus M. Forman
+   48 =Lest We Forget=                               Joseph Hocking
+   49 =The Long Arm=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+   50 =The Second Chance=                                Paul Trent
+   51 =The Yellow Crayon=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+   52 =The Allinson Honour=                         Harold Bindloss
+   53 =The Open Road=                           Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   54 =The Master of Merripit=                      Eden Phillpotts
+   55 =Max Logan=                                        Paul Trent
+   56 =An Enemy Hath Done This=                      Joseph Hocking
+   57 =Mysterious Mr. Sabin=                        E. P. Oppenheim
+   59 =The Heir to the Throne=                      A. W. Marchmont
+   60 =Blake's Burden=                              Harold Bindloss
+   61 =A Daughter of the Marionis=                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   62 =The House 'Round the Corner=                     Louis Tracy
+   63 =The White Lie=                                  Wm. Le Queux
+   64 =Uncle Peter's Will=                         Silas K. Hocking
+   65 =Lord Stranleigh Abroad=                          Robert Barr
+   66 =The Six Rubies=                             Justus M. Forman
+   67 =Leila and Her Lover=                           Max Pemberton
+   68 =The Secret of the Reef=                      Harold Bindloss
+   69 =The Blind Spot=                             Justus M. Forman
+   70 =Nesbit's Compact=                                 Paul Trent
+   73 =The White Horses=                        Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   74 =A Lovers' Tale=                              Maurice Hewlett
+   75 =Delia Blanchflower=                        Mrs. Humphry Ward
+   76 =The Coming of the King=                       Joseph Hocking
+   77 =The Admirable Carfew=                          Edgar Wallace
+   78 =Prince of Sinners=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+   79 =A Risky Game=                                Harold Bindloss
+   80 =The Sign of Silence=                            Wm. Le Queux
+   81 =The Angel of the Desert=                    Silas K. Hocking
+   82 =A Chateau in Picardy=                    Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   83 =The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown=            E. P. Oppenheim
+   84 =In Self Defence=                            Silas K. Hocking
+   85 =Bentley's Conscience=                             Paul Trent
+   86 =The Borderer=                                Harold Bindloss
+   87 =A Monk of Cruta=                             E. P. Oppenheim
+   88 =Frey and His Wife=                           Maurice Hewlett
+   89 =The Birthright=                               Joseph Hocking
+   90 =The Crimson Field=                       Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   91 =The Flying Girl=                               Richard Marsh
+   92 =When He Came to Himself=                    Silas K. Hocking
+   93 =God and Mammon=                               Joseph Hocking
+   94 =The Annexation Society=                       J. S. Fletcher
+   95 =Greater Love=                                 Joseph Hocking
+   96 =The Secret=                                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   97 =A Prince of this World=                       Joseph Hocking
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+SHILLING FICTION
+
+_Foolscap 8vo. Cloth Gilt. 1/- net._
+
+LATEST LIST
+
+   78 =Ayesha=                                     H. Rider Haggard
+   80 =The Open Road=                           Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   82 =An Enemy Hath Done This=                      Joseph Hocking
+   88 =The Scarlet Woman=                            Joseph Hocking
+   93 =The Holy Flower=                            H. Rider Haggard
+   94 =The Traitors=                          E. Phillips Oppenheim
+   95 =The Strength of the Hills=               Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   96 =The Pathway=                                   Gertrude Page
+   97 =The Blind Spot=                             Justus M. Forman
+   98 =The Broken Thread=                              Wm. Le Queux
+   99 =The Intruder=                                Harold Bindloss
+  100 =Faith Tresilian=                             Eden Phillpotts
+  101 =Leila and Her Lover=                           Max Pemberton
+  102 =Nesbit's Compact=                                 Paul Trent
+  103 =A Man and His Kingdom=                       E. P. Oppenheim
+  104 =The White Horses=                        Halliwell Sutcliffe
+  105 =Delia Blanchflower=                        Mrs. Humphry Ward
+  106 =The Secret of the Reef=                      Harold Bindloss
+  107 =The Mysterious Three=                           Wm. Le Queux
+  108 =A Lovers' Tale=                              Maurice Hewlett
+  109 =A Prince of Sinners=                         E. P. Oppenheim
+  110 =Rainbow Island=                                  Louis Tracy
+  111 =The Place of Dragons=                           Wm. Le Queux
+  112 =The Purple Robe=                              Joseph Hocking
+  113 =When Greek meets Greek=                           Paul Trent
+  114 =A Risky Game=                                Harold Bindloss
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+NINEPENNY NOVELS
+
+_Cloth Gilt, with Frontispiece and Attractive Wrapper in colours. 9d.
+net._
+
+    1 =The Garden of Lies=                         Justus M. Forman
+    2 =Anna, The Adventuress=                       E. P. Oppenheim
+    4 =The Beautiful White Devil=                       Guy Boothby
+    5 =The Impostor=                                Harold Bindloss
+    7 =A Study In Scarlet=                           A. Conan Doyle
+    9 =The Mother=                                  Eden Phillpotts
+   10 =The Crimson Blind=                             Fred M. White
+   14 =A Maker of History=                          E. P. Oppenheim
+   16 =The Pillar of Light=                             Louis Tracy
+   17 =A Bid for Fortune=                               Guy Boothby
+   21 =Mr. Wingrave, Millionaire=                   E. P. Oppenheim
+   31 =The Secret=                                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   34 =Darby and Joan=                                       "Rita"
+   36 =The Temptress=                                  Wm. Le Queux
+   43 =The Missioner=                               E. P. Oppenheim
+   47 =Dr. Nikola=                                      Guy Boothby
+   53 =His Lady's Pleasure=                             H. Bindloss
+   54 =A Courier of Fortune=                        A. W. Marchmont
+   58 =Heart of Gold=                                 L. G. Moberly
+   65 =Hawtrey's Deputy=                            Harold Bindloss
+   67 =A Maker of Nations=                              Guy Boothby
+   69 =A Millionaire of Yesterday=                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   72 =Long Live the King=                              Guy Boothby
+   75 =The World's Great Snare=                     E. P. Oppenheim
+   76 =Helen of the Moor=                             A. & C. Askew
+   77 =League of the Leopard=                       Harold Bindloss
+   78 =Her Splendid Sin=                                Headon Hill
+   79 =Dr. Nikola's Experiment=                         Guy Boothby
+   80 =Whoso Findeth a Wife=                           Wm. Le Queux
+   81 =The Stowaway=                                    Louis Tracy
+   82 =The Law of the Land=                          Fred. M. White
+   83 =Mr. Marx's Secret=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+   84 =Sanders of the River=                          Edgar Wallace
+   85 =Under the Black Eagle=                       A. W. Marchmont
+   86 =Joy: a Happy Soul=                             L. G. Moberly
+   87 =The Red Rat's Daughter=                          Guy Boothby
+   88 =The Dream Daughter=                            A. & C. Askew
+   89 =The Liberationist=                           Harold Bindloss
+   90 =Lord Stranleigh Abroad=                              R. Barr
+   91 =Jeanne of the Marshes=                       E. P. Oppenheim
+   92 =A Race with Ruin=                                Headon Hill
+   93 =A Fatal Legacy=                                  Louis Tracy
+   95 =A Fatal Dose=                                  Fred M. White
+   96 =The Kidnapped President=                         Guy Boothby
+   97 =The People of the River=                       Edgar Wallace
+   98 =Christina=                                     L. G. Moberly
+   99 =The Master Mummer=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+  100 =The Golden Girl=                               A. & C. Askew
+  101 =The Silent Barrier=                              Louis Tracy
+  102 =The Cottage in the Chine=                        Headon Hill
+  103 =My Indian Queen=                                 Guy Boothby
+  104 =The Idol of the Town=                           Wm. Le Queux
+  105 =False Evidence=                              E. P. Oppenheim
+  106 =The Cardinal Moth=                             Fred M. White
+  107 =The Protector=                               Harold Bindloss
+  108 =His Little Girl=                               L. G. Moberly
+  109 =White Walls=                                   Max Pemberton
+  110 =Money or Wife=                             Effie A. Rowlands
+  111 =Farewell, Nikola=                                Guy Boothby
+  112 =The Council of Justice=                           E. Wallace
+  113 =The House Next Door=                           A. & C. Askew
+  114 =Conspirators=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+  115 =The Master Spirit=                            Sir Wm. Magnay
+  116 =A Traitor's Wooing=                              Headon Hill
+  117 =Sheilah McLeod=                                  Guy Boothby
+  118 =The Sign of the Stranger=                       Wm. Le Queux
+  119 =The Pioneer=                                 Harold Bindloss
+  120 =The Open Door=                                 Fred M. White
+  121 =The Betrayal=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+  122 =Diana=                                         L. G. Moberly
+  123 =The Vow=                                          Paul Trent
+  124 =Fennell's Tower=                                 Louis Tracy
+  125 =The Admirable Carfew=                             E. Wallace
+  126 =Through Folly's Mill=                          A. & C. Askew
+  127 =Love Made Manifest=                              Guy Boothby
+  128 =The Tickencote Treasure=                        Wm. Le Queux
+  129 =Craven Fortune=                                Fred M. White
+  130 =The Yellow Crayon=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+  131 =Cleansing Fires=                               L. G. Moberly
+  132 =The Lovers=                                  Eden Phillpotts
+  133 =Sunset and Dawn=                           Effie A. Rowlands
+  134 =The Trustee=                                 Harold Bindloss
+  135 =The Foundling=                                    Paul Trent
+  136 =The Heir to the Throne=                      A. W. Marchmont
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+Sixpenny Copyright
+
+NOVELS
+
+_Large Demy 8vo. Coloured Covers. Price 6d._
+
+    1 =A Bid for Fortune=                               Guy Boothby
+   18 =A Monk of Cruta=                             E. P. Oppenheim
+   26 =A Daughter of the Marionis=                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   33 =Love Made Manifest=                              Guy Boothby
+   48 =The Secret Service=                             Wm. Le Queux
+   51 =The Temptress=                                  Wm. Le Queux
+   73 =Belles and Ringers=                             Hawley Smart
+   74 =Sarchedon=                              G. J. Whyte-Melville
+   77 =Across the World for a Wife=                     Guy Boothby
+   82 =A Sailor's Bride=                                Guy Boothby
+   87 =The Survivor=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+   98 =In Strange Company=                              Guy Boothby
+  116 =The Traitors=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+  122 =Dr. Nikola=                                      Guy Boothby
+  127 =The Crimson Blind=                             Fred M. White
+  145 =A Bid for Freedom=                               Guy Boothby
+  155 =The Betrayal=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+  160 =A Study in Scarlet=                           A. Conan Doyle
+  171 =The Master Mummer=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+  179 =The King of Diamonds=                            Louis Tracy
+  199 =Beneath Her Station=                         Harold Bindloss
+  233 =The Liberationist=                           Harold Bindloss
+  237 =The Mother=                                  Eden Phillpotts
+  248 =The League of the Leopard=                   Harold Bindloss
+  266 =The Powers of Mischief=                Sir Wm. Magnay, Bart.
+  277 =The Sundial=                                  Fred. M. White
+  279 =In White Raiment=                               Wm. Le Queux
+  282 =The Missioner=                               E. P. Oppenheim
+  286 =Lorna Doone=                                 R. D. Blackmore
+  305 =The Sporting Chance=                           A. & C. Askew
+  323 =Vivienne=                                             "Rita"
+  342 =Countess Londa=                                  Guy Boothby
+  343 =Heath Hover Mystery=                         Bertram Mitford
+  351 =The Sin of Alison Dering=                      L. G. Moberly
+  355 =Rogues in Arcady=                             Sir Wm. Magnay
+  357 =Jim Crowshaw's Mary=                          Fred. M. White
+  361 =Angela's Marriage=                             L. G. Moberly
+  362 =Bianca's Daughter=                          Justus M. Forman
+  365 =The Legacy=                                    A. & C. Askew
+  367 =A Son of the Immortals=                          Louis Tracy
+  368 =The Witness of the Ring=               Marie Connor Leighton
+  369 =Christina=                                     L. G. Moberly
+  370 =Mr. Marx's Secret=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+  372 =Lady Clara=                                    Fred M. White
+  374 =The Secret of the Sands=                       Fred M. White
+  375 =The House of the Black Panther=                A. & C. Askew
+  376 =Hawtrey's Deputy=                            Harold Bindloss
+  377 =The Mystery Queen=                               Fergus Hume
+  379 =Sylvia's Chauffeur=                              Louis Tracy
+  381 =The Peer and the Women=                      E. P. Oppenheim
+  382 =A Scarlet Sin=                                 A. & C. Askew
+  383 =Her Sacrifice=                                 Arthur Applin
+  384 =Justice=                               Marie Connor Leighton
+  386 =His Little Girl=                               L. G. Moberly
+  387 =Radford Shone=                                   Headon Hill
+  388 =The Open Door=                                 Fred M. White
+  409 =A Prince of Darkness=                        Florence Warden
+  412 =The Van Dylk Diamonds=                         Arthur Applin
+  417 =Pallard, the Punter=                           Edgar Wallace
+  420 =The Supplanter=                                   Paul Trent
+  422 =Until Seventy Times Seven=                     L. G. Moberly
+  423 =The Secret Cargo=                             J. S. Fletcher
+  425 =A Royal Wrong=                                 Fred M. White
+  428 =One of the Family=                              Keble Howard
+  429 =Ducks and Drakes=                      Marie Connor Leighton
+  430 =Gilded London=                                 A. & C. Askew
+  431 =That Preposterous Will=                        L. G. Moberly
+  450 =The Court of the Angels=                    Justus M. Forman
+  469 =False Evidence=                              E. P. Oppenheim
+  472 =The Woman Who Tempted=                       Gertrude Warden
+  490 =Souls in Pawn=                               Lindsay Russell
+  494 =Blackthorn Farm=                               Arthur Applin
+  495 =All Men are Liars=                            Joseph Hocking
+  500 =The Girl from Nippon=                           Carlton Dawe
+  506 =The Caretaker=                                   Fergus Hume
+  507 =The Man Who Bought London=                     Edgar Wallace
+  508 =The Cloak of Darkness=                        Sir Wm. Magnay
+  509 =Paul Quentin=                                  Fred M. White
+  510 =The Gates of Sorrow=                   Marie Connor Leighton
+  511 =Jabez Easterbrook=                            Joseph Hocking
+  512 =The Gates of Silence=                        Lindsay Russell
+  514 =After Long Years=                              L. G. Moberly
+  515 =The Flying Girl=                               Richard Marsh
+  516 =The King _versus_ Wargrave=                   J. S. Fletcher
+  517 =The Weavers Plot=                              A. & C. Askew
+  518 =The Opening Door=                           Justus M. Forman
+  519 =The Pearl Necklace=                            Arthur Applin
+  520 =Uncle Peter's Will=                         Silas K. Hocking
+  521 =A Woman's Word=                                A. & C. Askew
+  522 =A Hazardous Wooing=                              James Blyth
+  523 =Human Nature=                          Marie Connor Leighton
+  524 =The Salt of the Earth=                         Fred M. White
+  525 =A Debt Discharged=                             Edgar Wallace
+  526 =The Annexation Society=                       J. S. Fletcher
+  527 =The Allinson Honour=                         Harold Bindloss
+  528 =The Wraith of Olverstone=                    Florence Warden
+  529 =The Interior=                                Lindsay Russell
+  530 =The Footlight Glare=                           A. & C. Askew
+  531 =The Open Road=                           Halliwell Sutcliffe
+  532 =The Master of Merripit=                      Eden Phillpotts
+  533 =The Atonement=                                   James Blyth
+  534 =An Enemy Hath Done This=                      Joseph Hocking
+  535 =In the Cause of Freedom=                     A. W. Marchmont
+  536 =Story of a Great Sin=                  Marie Connor Leighton
+  537 =The Red Bicycle=                                 Fergus Hume
+  538 =Maid Marjory=                                  L. G. Moberly
+  539 =The Little Anarchist=                        A. W. Marchmont
+  540 =A Maker of Secrets=                             Wm. Le Queux
+  541 =Max Logan=                                        Paul Trent
+  542 =Ambition's Slave=                              Fred M. White
+  543 =The Tomb of Ts'in=                             Edgar Wallace
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+STANDARD & DETECTIVE NOVELS
+
+_Large Demy 8vo. Attractive Wrapper and Frontispiece. 6d._
+
+    2 =Kenilworth=                                 Sir Walter Scott
+   12 =Midshipman Easy=                               Capt. Marryat
+   13 =Japhet in Search of a Father=                          Ditto
+   14 =Jacob Faithful=                                        Ditto
+   15 =Peter Simple=                                          Ditto
+   16 =The Pickwick Papers=                           Chas. Dickens
+   18 =Barnaby Rudge=                                         Ditto
+   19 =Old Curiosity Shop=                                    Ditto
+   20 =Martin Chuzzlewit=                                     Ditto
+   21 =Oliver Twist=                                          Ditto
+   22 =Dombey and Son=                                        Ditto
+   26 =The Innocents Abroad=                             Mark Twain
+   27 =Valentine Vox=                                 Henry Cockton
+   33 =Ben-Hur=                                         Lew Wallace
+   37 =Helen's Babies=                                 J. Habberton
+   38 =Other People's Children=                               Ditto
+   39 =A Bad Boy's Diary=
+   40 =Blunders of a Bashful Man=
+   41 =Catching a Husband=
+   45 =Out of the Hurly Burly=                           Max Adeler
+   48 =A Strange Disappearance=                         A. K. Green
+   51 =The Leavenworth Case=                                  Ditto
+   52 =The Circular Study=                                    Ditto
+   53 =Marked "Personal"=                                     Ditto
+   59 =Shadowed by Three=                               L. L. Lynch
+   61 =The Diamond Coterie=                                   Ditto
+   62 =Detective's Daughter=                                  Ditto
+   63 =Out of a Labyrinth=                                    Ditto
+   65 =The Lost Witness=                                      Ditto
+   68 =A Slender Clue=                                        Ditto
+   76 =Toilers of the Sea=                              Victor Hugo
+   77 =History of a Crime=                                    Ditto
+   78 =Ninety-Three=                                          Ditto
+   80 =Margaret Catchpole=                          Rev. R. Cobbold
+   81 =Freston Tower=                                         Ditto
+   84 =The Mystery of Orcival=                          E. Gaboriau
+   85 =Detective's Dilemma=                                   Ditto
+   86 =Detective's Triumph=                                   Ditto
+   88 =Caught in the Net=                                     Ditto
+   89 =The Champdoce Mystery=                                 Ditto
+   91 =Mr. Barnes of New York=                         A. C. Gunter
+   92 =The Princess of Copper=                                Ditto
+   95 =Jane Eyre=                                  Charlotte Brontë
+   97 =Looking Backward=                             Edward Bellamy
+  103 =Frank Fairlegh=                                Frank Smedley
+  104 =Alice's Adventures in Wonderland=              Lewis Carroll
+  106 =Tom Brown's School Days=                              Hughes
+  133 =Crime and the Criminal=                             R. Marsh
+  150 =Her Splendid Sin=                                Headon Hill
+  151 =Caged=                                                 Ditto
+  152 =The Avengers=                                          Ditto
+  160 =Lorna Doone=                                    R. Blackmore
+  162 =For the Term of His Natural Life=              Marcus Clarke
+  169 =East Lynne=                                  Mrs. Henry Wood
+  171 =The Shadow of Ashlydyat=                               Ditto
+  172 =The Channings=                                         Ditto
+  173 =Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles=                           Ditto
+  175 =Roland Yorke=                                          Ditto
+
+
+Ward, Lock & Co., Ltd., London, Melbourne & Toronto.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES
+
+
+Page 6: FREMY standardised to FRÉMY; SURETE standardised to SURETÉ
+
+Page 33: hand-bag standardised to handbag
+
+Page 35: Placé in the phrase "in the Placé Vendôme" as in the original
+
+Page 41: " changed to ' before You--you blackguard, and after
+You've--you've killed me!
+
+Page 42: note-paper standardised to notepaper
+
+Page 47: anenomes corrected to anemones in the phrase "drooping red
+anenomes"; manservant standardised to man-servant
+
+Page 126: reopened standardised to re-opened
+
+Page 127: " removed before If so, what then?
+
+Page 148: repass standardised to re-pass
+
+Page 150: over-burdened standardised to overburdened
+
+Page 160: nonplussed standardised to non-plussed in His question
+non-plussed me.
+
+Page 166: arm-chair standardised to armchair
+
+Page 202: " added after must have happened to her.
+
+Page 210: " changed to ' before You blackguard, Cane and ' added after
+why, you've killed me!
+
+Page 218: ? after No, don't do that as in the original
+
+Page 240: Bon jour spaced as in the original
+
+Page 244: " added after Here is the reply,
+
+Page 249: . added after non-plussed me for the moment
+
+Page 257: ' corrected to " before My interests!
+
+Page 267: " added after round of France.
+
+Page 269: . added after I asked frantically
+
+Page 309: Author of 108. His Little Girl standardised to Moberly
+
+Page 314: Blank author names as in original
+
+General: variable hyphenation of street-lamp and street lamp as in the
+original
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sign of Silence, by William Le Queux
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SIGN OF SILENCE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 30477-8.txt or 30477-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
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+
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+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sign Of Silence by William Le Queux.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
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+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sign of Silence, by William Le Queux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sign of Silence
+
+Author: William Le Queux
+
+Release Date: November 15, 2009 [EBook #30477]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SIGN OF SILENCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;">
+<img src="images/image001.jpg" width="415" height="668" alt="&quot;&#39;Well,&#39; she asked, &#39;are you ready?&#39;&quot; (Chap. vi.)" title="" />
+<div class="caption">&quot;&#39;Well,&#39; she asked, &#39;are you ready?&#39;&quot; (Chap. vi.)</div>
+<div class="lfloat gap1"><i>The Sign of Silence</i>]</div>
+<div class="ralign gap1">[<i>Frontispiece</i></div>
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h1 class="gap3">THE SIGN</h1>
+
+<h1>OF SILENCE</h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>WILLIAM LE QUEUX</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Author of</i></p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>"If Sinners Entice Thee," "The Room of Secrets," etc.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center gap3">WARD, LOCK &amp; CO., LIMITED</p>
+
+<p class="center">LONDON, MELBOURNE AND TORONTO</p>
+
+<p class="center">1917</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="bbox gap3" style="margin-left:20%;margin-right:20%;padding:1em;">
+
+<p class="center large gap1">"THE MASTER OF MYSTERY"</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;" />
+
+<p class="center gap1">WILLIAM LE QUEUX'S NOVELS</p>
+
+<div class="small">
+<p class="center gap1"><i>WORLD'S OPINIONS.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center gap1">EUROPE.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. William Le Queux retains his position as 'The Master of
+Mystery.' ... He is far too skilful to allow pause for thought; he
+whirls his readers from incident to incident, holding their attention
+from the first page to the close of the book."&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>"There is no better companion on a railway journey than Mr. William
+Le Queux."&mdash;<i>Daily Mail.</i></p>
+
+<p>"Mr. William Le Queux is 'The Master of Mystery.' His reputation
+is world-famed."&mdash;<i>Le Matin</i> (Paris).</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. William Le Queux's romances are always enthralling. He is
+the Master of the Mystery-story."&mdash;<i>Berliner Tageblatt</i> (Berlin).</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. William Le Queux is the most entrancing and thrilling English
+novelist of to-day."&mdash;<i>Neue Freie Presse</i> (Vienna).</p>
+
+
+<p class="center gap1">ASIA.</p>
+
+<p>"We always enjoy Mr. Le Queux's novels. His mysteries are
+perfect."&mdash;<i>Englishman</i> (Calcutta).</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. William Le Queux has justly earned the title of 'The Master
+of Mystery.'"&mdash;<i>Hong Kong Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center gap1">AFRICA.</p>
+
+<p>"As a weaver of mysteries, Mr. William Le Queux has surely no
+equal. To dash about Europe in his company, hot on the heels of an
+enigma, is a pastime both exciting and exhilarating."&mdash;<i>Johannesburg
+Star.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center gap1">AMERICA.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. William Le Queux's popularity is steadily increasing. No
+writer has brought mystery and adventure to such a high degree of art.
+He never fails to enthral and entertain us."&mdash;<i>New York Herald.</i></p>
+
+<p>"Mr. William Le Queux's work is always excellent, and always
+exciting."&mdash;<i>San Francisco Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>"Not without good cause has Mr. Le Queux earned his very apt
+title, 'The Master of Mystery.'"&mdash;<i>El Diario</i> (Buenos Ayres).</p>
+
+
+<p class="center gap1">AUSTRALIA.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Le Queux is always fresh and original, and one can rely on
+being interested and amused by his stories."&mdash;<i>Sydney Morning Herald.</i></p>
+
+<p>"For mystery and sensation Mr. Le Queux cannot be beaten."&mdash;<i>Melbourne
+Argus.</i></p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Le Queux's large public are never satisfied. They always
+crave for more from his pen."&mdash;<i>Christchurch Weekly Press</i> (New Zealand).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<table summary="Contents" style="border-collapse:collapse">
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2" class="small">CHAPTER</td>
+<td class="ralign small">PAGE</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">I.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">INTRODUCES A GENTLEMAN</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">II.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">THE SCENT</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">III.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">DESCRIBES THE TRYSTING-PLACE</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">IV.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">"DEAR OLD DIG"</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">V.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">"TIME WILL PROVE"</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">VI.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">THE PIECE OF CONVICTION</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">VII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">FATAL FINGERS</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">VIII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">CONTAINS FURTHER EVIDENCE</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">IX.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">DESCRIBES THE YELLOW SIGN</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">X.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">CHERCHEZ LA FEMME</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XI.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">IN WHICH AN ALLEGATION IS MADE</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">PHRIDA MAKES CONFESSION</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XIII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">THE FUGITIVE'S SECRET</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>XIV.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">REVEALS A FURTHER DECEPTION</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XV.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">AN EFFACED IDENTITY</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XVI.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">REVEALS ANOTHER ENIGMA</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XVII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">CONCERNS MRS. PETRE</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XVIII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">DISCLOSES THE TRAP</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XIX.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">THE SEAL OF SILENCE</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XX.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">FROM THE TOMB</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXI.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">RECORDS A STRANGE STATEMENT</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">"MARIE BRACQ!"</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXIII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">LOVE'S CONFESSION</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXIV.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">OFFICIAL SECRECY</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXV.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">FR&Eacute;MY, OF THE SURET&Eacute;</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXVI.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">SHOWS EXPERT METHODS</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXVII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">EDWARDS BECOMES MORE PUZZLED</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXVIII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">FURTHER ADMISSIONS</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXIX.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">THE SELLER OF SHAWLS</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXX.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">FACE TO FACE</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXXI.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">SHOWS THE TRUTH-TELLER</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign rpad0 tpad1">XXXII.&mdash;</td>
+<td class="lpad0 tpad1">IS THE CONCLUSION</td>
+<td class="ralign tpad1"><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="THE_SIGN_OF_SILENCE" id="THE_SIGN_OF_SILENCE"></a>THE SIGN OF SILENCE.</h2>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>INTRODUCES A GENTLEMAN.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2">"<span class="smcap">Then</span> it's an entire mystery?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Phrida."</p>
+
+<p>"But it's astounding! It really seems so utterly
+impossible," declared my well-beloved, amazed at
+what I had just related.</p>
+
+<p>"I've simply stated hard facts."</p>
+
+<p>"But there's been nothing about this affair in
+the papers."</p>
+
+<p>"For certain reasons the authorities are not
+exactly anxious for any publicity. It is a very
+puzzling problem, and they do not care to own
+themselves baffled," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, it's the most extraordinary story of
+London life that I've ever heard," Phrida Shand
+declared, leaning forward in her chair, clasping her
+small white hands as, with her elbows upon the
+<i>table-&agrave;-deux</i>, she looked at me with her wondrous
+dark eyes across the bowl of red tulips
+between us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We were lunching together at the Berkeley, in
+Piccadilly, one January day last year, and had just
+arrived at the dessert.</p>
+
+<p>"The whole thing is quite bewildering, Teddy&mdash;an
+utter enigma," she exclaimed in a low, rather
+strained voice, her pretty, pointed chin resting upon
+the back of her hand as she gazed upon me from
+beneath those long, curved lashes.</p>
+
+<p>"I quite agree," was my answer. "The police
+are mystified, and so am I. Sir Digby Kemsley is
+my friend, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember," she said. "You once introduced
+me&mdash;at the opening of the Motor Show at Olympia,
+I believe. A very brilliant and famous man,
+isn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather! A famous engineer. He made the
+new railway across the Andes, and possesses huge
+rubber interests in Peru. His name, both in Seina
+and Valparaiso, is one to conjure with," was my
+reply; "but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But what?" queried my well-beloved.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's one fact which greatly increases
+the mystery&mdash;a fact which is yet to be told."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" she asked eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>I hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've been making inquiries this morning,"
+I replied with some reluctance, "and I learn to my
+blank amazement that there is no such person as
+my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"No such person!" she echoed, staring at me,
+her lips parted. Being seated in a corner, no
+one could overhear our conversation. "I don't
+follow you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Sir Digby died somewhere in South
+America about a year ago," was my quiet response.</p>
+
+<p>"What? Was your friend a fraud, eh?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Apparently so. And yet, if he was, he must
+have been a man of marvellous cunning and subterfuge,"
+I said. "He was most popular at the club,
+known at the Ritz and the Savoy, and other places
+about town."</p>
+
+<p>"He struck me as a man of great refinement&mdash;a
+gentleman, in fact," Phrida said. "I recollect
+him perfectly: tall, rather thin, with a pointed, grey
+beard, a long, oval face, and thinnish, grey hair. A
+very lithe, erect man, whose polite, elegant manner
+was that of a diplomat, and in whose dark eyes was
+an expression of constant merriment and good
+humour. He spoke with a slight accent&mdash;Scotch,
+isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. You remember him perfectly, dear.
+A most excellent description," I said; "and that
+same description has been circulated this morning
+to every police office throughout the United Kingdom,
+as well as to the prefectures of police in all
+the European capitals. All the ports are being
+watched, as it is expected he may make his
+way abroad."</p>
+
+<p>"But what do the authorities suspect?" asked
+Phrida, with a serious look.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that's just it! They haven't yet decided
+what to suspect."</p>
+
+<p>I looked across at her and thought, though
+slightly more pale than usual, she had never appeared
+more charming.</p>
+
+<p>Sweet-faced, slim, with a soft, sibilant voice, and
+dainty to her finger-tips, she did not look more
+than nineteen, though her age was twenty-four.
+How shall I describe her save to say that her oval,
+well-defined features were perfect, her dark, arched
+brows gave piquancy to a countenance that was
+remarked wherever she went, a merry face, with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+touch of impudence in her smile&mdash;the face of an
+essentially London girl.</p>
+
+<p>Only daughter of my father's late partner, James
+Shand, we had been friends from childhood, and our
+friendship had, three years ago, blossomed into a
+deep and mutual affection. Born and bred in
+Kensington, she cared little for country life. She
+loved her London, its throbbing streets, its life and
+movement, its concerts, its bright restaurants, and,
+most of all, its theatres&mdash;for she was an ardent
+playgoer.</p>
+
+<p>My father, Edward Royle, was head of the firm of
+well-known chemical manufacturers, Messrs. Royle
+and Shand, whose works were a feature of the river
+landscape close to Greenwich, and whose offices were
+in St. Mary Axe. He had died two years before,
+pre-deceasing his partner by a year. The business&mdash;a
+big one, for we were the largest chemical manufacturers
+in England&mdash;had been left solely in my
+hands. Shand's widow still lived with Phrida in
+Cromwell Road, drawing from it an income of seven
+thousand pounds yearly.</p>
+
+<p>As for myself, I was a bachelor, aged thirty-two,
+and if golf be a vice I was greatly addicted to it. I
+occupied a cosy set of chambers, half-way up Albemarle
+Street, and am thankful to say that in consequence
+of my father's business acumen, my balance
+at my bankers was increasing annually. At the
+works at Greenwich nearly two thousand hands were
+employed, and it had always been the firm's
+proud boast that they laboured under the most
+healthy conditions possible to secure in the manufacture
+of chemicals.</p>
+
+<p>My father, upon his deathbed, had held my hand
+and expressed to me his profoundest satisfaction at
+my engagement with the daughter of his partner,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
+and almost with his last breath had pronounced a
+blessing upon our union.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, I loved Phrida&mdash;loved her with all my heart
+and all my soul. She was mine&mdash;mine for ever.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, as I sat at that little table in the white-enamelled
+restaurant gazing at her across the bowl
+of tulips, I felt a strange, a very curious misgiving,
+an extraordinary misty suspicion, for which I could
+not in the least account.</p>
+
+<p>I experienced a strange intuition of doubt and
+vague uncertainty.</p>
+
+<p>The facts we had just been discussing were, to
+say the least, amazing.</p>
+
+<p>Only the Metropolitan Police and myself were
+aware of the astounding discovery which had been
+made that morning&mdash;a discovery of which the ever-vigilant
+London evening newspapers had as yet
+no inkling.</p>
+
+<p>The affair was being carefully hushed up. In
+certain quarters&mdash;high official quarters, I believe&mdash;a
+flutter of excitement had been caused at noon,
+when it had become known that a mystery had
+occurred, one which at the outset New Scotland
+Yard had acknowledged itself utterly without a clue.</p>
+
+<p>About the affair there was nothing usual, nothing
+commonplace. The murder mysteries of London
+always form exciting reading, for it is surely the
+easiest work of the practised journalist to put
+forward from day to day fresh clues and
+exciting propositions.</p>
+
+<p>The present case, however, was an entirely fresh
+and unheard-of mystery, one such as London had
+never before known.</p>
+
+<p>In the whole annals of Scotland Yard no case
+presenting such unusual features had previously
+been reported.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Have you no theory as to what really
+occurred?" Phrida asked slowly, after a very long
+and pensive silence.</p>
+
+<p>"None whatever, dear," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>What theory could I form? Aye, what indeed?</p>
+
+<p>In order that the exact truth should be made
+entirely plain to the reader and the mystery viewed
+in all its phases, it will be best for me to briefly
+record the main facts prior to entering upon
+any detail.</p>
+
+<p>The following were the circumstances exactly
+as I knew them.</p>
+
+<p>At twenty-five minutes to ten on the previous
+night&mdash;the night of January the sixth&mdash;I was at
+home in Albemarle Street, writing letters. Haines,
+my man, had gone out, and I was alone, when the
+telephone bell rang. Taking up the receiver I
+heard the cheery voice of Sir Digby Kemsley asking
+what I was doing. My prompt reply was that I
+was staying at home that night, whereupon his
+voice changed and he asked me in great earnestness
+to come over to his flat in Harrington Gardens,
+South Kensington, at eleven o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>"And look here," he added in a confidential
+tone, "the outside door will be closed at half-past
+ten and the porter off duty. I'll go down just before
+eleven and leave the door ajar. Don't let anyone
+see you come in. Be extremely careful. I have
+reasons I'll explain afterwards."</p>
+
+<p>"Right," I replied, and shut off.</p>
+
+<p>His request seemed just a little curious. It
+struck me that he perhaps wished to consult with
+me over some private matter, as he had done once
+before. Therefore, just before eleven I hailed a
+taxi in Piccadilly and drove westward past
+Gloucester Road Station, and into the quiet,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+eminently select neighbourhood where my friend
+lived.</p>
+
+<p>At eleven o'clock Harrington Gardens&mdash;that
+long thoroughfare of big rather gloomy houses,
+most of them residences of City merchants, or
+town houses or flats of people who have seats in
+the country&mdash;was as silent as the grave, and my
+taxi awoke its echoes until, about half way up,
+I stopped the man, alighted, and paid him off.</p>
+
+<p>Then, after walking a couple of hundred yards,
+I found the door ajar and slipped into the hall
+unobserved.</p>
+
+<p>Ascending the wide carpeted steps to the second
+floor, the door of the flat was opened noiselessly
+by the owner himself, and a few seconds later I
+found myself seated before a big fire in his snug
+sitting-room.</p>
+
+<p>My friend's face was grey and entirely changed,
+yet his manner was still as polished, cheery, and
+buoyant as ever.</p>
+
+<p>The flat&mdash;quite a small one, though very expensive
+as he had once remarked to me&mdash;was furnished
+throughout with elegance and taste. Upon
+its walls everywhere hung curios and savage arms,
+which he had brought from various parts of the
+world. The drawing-room was furnished entirely
+in Arab style, with cedar-wood screens, semi-circular
+arches, low, soft divans and silken rugs,
+which he had bought in Egypt, while, in contrast, the
+little den in which we were sitting at that moment
+was panelled in white with an old-rose carpet,
+rendering it essentially bright and modern.</p>
+
+<p>The tall, grey-bearded, elegant man handed
+me a box of Perfectos Finos, from which we selected,
+and then, throwing myself into a chair, I slowly
+lit up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>His back was turned from me at the moment,
+as he leaned over the writing-table apparently
+gathering up some papers which he did not desire
+that I should see. He was facing a circular mirror
+on the wall, and in it I could see his countenance
+reflected. The expression upon his face&mdash;cold,
+cynical, sinister&mdash;startled me. He placed the papers
+in a drawer and locked it with a key upon his
+chain.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" I asked. "Why all this confounded
+mystery, Digby?"</p>
+
+<p>He turned upon me quickly, his long face
+usually so full of merriment, grey and drawn.
+I saw instantly that something very serious was
+amiss.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I want to ask your advice, Royle," he
+replied in a hard voice scarce above a whisper.
+Walking to the pretty rug of old-rose and pale green
+silk spread before the fire he stood upon it, facing
+me. "And&mdash;well, truth to tell, I don't want it
+to be known that you've been here to-night, old
+fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"For certain private reasons&mdash;very strong
+reasons."</p>
+
+<p>"As you wish, my dear chap," was my response,
+as I drew at his perfect cigar.</p>
+
+<p>Then he looked me straight in the face and said:
+"My motive in asking you here to-night, Royle, is
+to beg of you to extend your valued friendship
+to me at a moment which is the greatest crisis of
+my career. The fact is, I've played the game of life
+falsely, and the truth must out, unless&mdash;unless you
+will consent to save me."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't follow you," I said, staring at him.
+"What in heaven's name do you mean?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My dear boy, I'll put my cards down on the
+table at once," he said in a slow, deep tone. "Let's
+see&mdash;we've known each other for nearly a year.
+You have been my best friend, entirely devoted to
+my interests&mdash;a staunch friend, better than whom
+no man could ever desire. In return I've lied to you,
+led you to believe that I am what I am not. Why?
+Because&mdash;well, I suppose I'm no different to any
+other man&mdash;or woman for the matter of that&mdash;I
+have a skeleton in my cupboard&mdash;a grim skeleton,
+my dear Royle. One which I've always striven to
+hide&mdash;until to-night," he added with emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"But that hardly interferes with our friendship,
+does it? We all of us have our private affairs, both
+of business and of heart," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"The heart," he echoed bitterly. "Ah! yes&mdash;the
+heart. You, my dear boy, are a man of the
+world. You understand life. You are never narrow-minded&mdash;eh?"
+he asked, advancing a step nearer
+to me.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not," I said. "At any rate, I've
+always been your friend, ever since our first
+meeting on the steamer on the Lake of Garda, last
+February."</p>
+
+<p>The eminent engineer rolled his cigar between
+his fingers, and calmly contemplated it in silence.</p>
+
+<p>Then, quite abruptly, he exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Royle, my present misfortune is due to a
+woman."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" I sighed. "A woman! Always a woman
+in such cases! Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mind you, I don't blame her in the least," he
+went on quickly, "I&mdash;I was hot-tempered, and I
+miscalculated her power. We quarrelled, and&mdash;and
+she, though so young, refined and pretty, has
+arisen to crush me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Anyone I know?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I think not," was his slow reply, his
+dark eyes gazing full into mine as he still stood
+astride upon the hearthrug.</p>
+
+<p>Then he fidgeted uneasily, stroked his well-clipped
+grey beard with his strong, bronzed hand,
+and strode across the room and back again.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Royle," he exclaimed at last.
+"You're my friend, so I may as well speak straight
+out. Will you help me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly&mdash;if I can."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm in a hole&mdash;a confounded hole. I've been
+worried ever since I got back from Egypt just
+before Christmas. Only you can save me."</p>
+
+<p>"Me! Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to remain my friend; to still believe
+in me, when&mdash;well&mdash;when I've gone under,"
+he answered brokenly, his brows contracting as
+he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll speak more plainly. To-night is the
+last time we shall meet. I've played the game, I
+tell you&mdash;and I've lost!"</p>
+
+<p>"You seem horribly hipped about something
+to-night, my dear fellow!" I exclaimed in wonder at
+his strange words. In all my circle of friends no
+man was more level-headed than Sir Digby
+Kemsley.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'm not quite myself. Perhaps you
+wouldn't be, Royle, in the same circumstances."
+Halting, he stood erect with his hands clasped
+behind his back. Even then, at that moment
+of despair, he presented the fine figure of a man in
+his well-cut dinner clothes and the single ruby in
+his piqu&eacute; shirt-front. "I want to entrust a secret
+to you&mdash;a great secret," he went on a few seconds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
+later. "I tell you that to-night is the last occasion
+we shall ever meet, but I beg&mdash;may I implore you
+to judge me with leniency, to form no unjust conclusions,
+and when you remember me to regard my
+memory as that of a man who was not a rogue,
+but a victim of untoward circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"Really, my dear fellow," I said, "you speak
+in enigmas. What do you mean&mdash;you intend
+what?"</p>
+
+<p>"That matters nothing to you, Royle," was his
+hoarse reply. "I merely ask for your continued
+friendship. I ask that you will treat my successor
+here in the exact manner in which you have treated
+me&mdash;that you will become his firm friend&mdash;and that
+you will perform for me one great and most
+important service."</p>
+
+<p>"Your successor! Who will succeed you? You
+have no son!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I have no male relation whatever," he
+replied. "But we were speaking of the favour I am
+begging of you to perform for me. On the fourteenth
+of January I shall not be here, but it is
+highly necessary that on that evening, at eight
+o'clock, a secret message should be delivered into
+the hands of a certain lady&mdash;a message from myself.
+Will you do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. Are you going abroad again?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;well, I can hardly tell. I may be dead by
+then&mdash;who knows?" And he smiled grimly.</p>
+
+<p>He returned to his writing-table, unlocked a
+drawer, and took therefrom a letter which was
+carefully sealed with black wax.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, listen," he said, holding the letter in his
+fingers; "on the night of the fourteenth, just at
+eight o'clock precisely, go to the Piccadilly tube
+station, stand at the telephone box numbered four<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+on the Haymarket side, when a lady in black will
+approach you and ask news of me. In response
+you will give her this note. But there is a further
+condition: you may be watched and recognised,
+therefore be extremely careful that you are not
+followed on that day, and, above all, adopt some
+effective disguise. Go there dressed as a working-man,
+I would suggest."</p>
+
+<p>"That request, Kemsley, is certainly a very queer
+one," I remarked. "Is she <i>the</i> lady?"</p>
+
+<p>He smiled, and I took that as an affirmative.</p>
+
+<p>"You say she'll be dressed in black. Lots of
+ladies dress in black. I might mistake her."</p>
+
+<p>"Not very likely. I forgot to tell you that she
+will wear a small spray of mimosa."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that shows originality," I remarked.
+"Mimosa is not often worn on the person."</p>
+
+<p>"It will serve as a distinguishing mark." Then,
+after a pause, he added, handing me the letter:
+"There is one further request I want to make&mdash;or,
+at least, I want you to give me your promise, Royle.
+I ask you to make a solemn vow to me that if any
+suspicion arises within your mind, that you will
+believe nothing without absolute and decisive proof.
+I mean that you will not misjudge her."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly will not."</p>
+
+<p>"Your hand upon it?"</p>
+
+<p>I put forth my hand and, gripping his warmly,
+gave him my word of honour.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you will never regret this, Royle," he
+said in an earnest tone.</p>
+
+<p>"We are friends," I remarked simply.</p>
+
+<p>"And I trust, Royle, you will never regret the
+responsibility which you have accepted on my
+behalf," he said in a deep, hard voice&mdash;the voice of
+a desperate man. "Remember to treat my successor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
+exactly as you have treated me. Be his best friend,
+as he will be yours. You will be astonished, amazed,
+mystified, no doubt, at the events which must, alas!
+inevitably occur. But it is not my fault, Royle,
+believe me," he declared with solemn emphasis.
+"It is, alas! my misfortune!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SCENT.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">After</span> giving me the letter, and receiving my
+assurance that it would be safely delivered, Sir
+Digby's spirits seemed somewhat to revive.</p>
+
+<p>He chatted in his old, good-humoured style, drank
+a whisky and soda, and, just before one o'clock,
+let me out, urging me to descend the stairs noiselessly
+lest the hall-porter should know that he had had
+a visitor.</p>
+
+<p>Time after time I had questioned him regarding
+his strange reference to his successor, but to all
+my queries he was entirely dumb. He had, I
+recollected, never been the same since his return
+from a flying visit to Egypt.</p>
+
+<p>"The future will, no doubt, astound you,
+but I know, Royle, that you are a man of honour
+and of your word, and that you will keep
+your promise at all hazards," was all he would
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>The secrecy with which I had entered and left
+caused me considerable curiosity. Kemsley was
+one of those free, bluff, open-hearted, open-handed,
+men. He was never secretive, never elusive. I
+could only account for his curious, mystifying actions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>
+by the fact that the reputation of a woman was
+at stake&mdash;that he was acting for her protection.</p>
+
+<p>And I was to meet that woman face to face in
+eight days' time!</p>
+
+<p>As I walked towards Gloucester Road Station&mdash;where
+I hoped to find a taxi&mdash;all was silence. At
+that hour the streets of South Kensington are as
+deserted as a graveyard, and as I bent towards the
+cutting wind from the east, I wondered who
+could be the mysterious woman who had broken
+up my dear friend's future plans. Yet he bore
+her no malice. Some men's temperaments are
+really curious.</p>
+
+<p>Beneath a street-lamp I paused and looked at
+the superscription upon the envelope. It ran:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"For E. P. K."</p></div>
+
+<p>The initial K! Was the lady Digby's wife?
+That was the suspicion which at once fell upon me,
+and by which I became convinced.</p>
+
+<p>At half-past one o'clock I let myself into my
+own flat in Albemarle Street. The faithful
+Haines, who had been a marine wardroom servant
+in the navy before entering my employ, was
+awaiting me.</p>
+
+<p>"The telephone bell rang ten minutes ago, sir,"
+he said. "Sir Digby Kemsley wishes to speak to
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well!" I replied. "You can go to
+bed."</p>
+
+<p>The man placed my tray with whisky and soda
+upon the little table near my chair, as was his habit,
+and, wishing me good-night, retired.</p>
+
+<p>I went to the telephone, and asked for Digby's
+number.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>After a few seconds a voice, which at first I failed
+to recognise, replied to mine:</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Royle; I'm so sorry to disturb you,
+old chap, but could you possibly come back
+here at once?"</p>
+
+<p>"What?" I asked, very surprised. "Is it
+so very important? Can't it wait till to-morrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, unfortunately it can't. It's most imperative
+that I should see you. Something has happened.
+Do come!" he begged. "But don't attract
+attention&mdash;you understand!"</p>
+
+<p>"Something happened!" I echoed. "What?"</p>
+
+<p>"That woman. Come at once&mdash;do, there's
+a good fellow. Will you&mdash;for my sake and
+hers?"</p>
+
+<p>The mention of the woman decided me, so
+I replied "All right!" and hung up the
+receiver.</p>
+
+<p>Within half an hour I alighted in Courtfield
+Gardens and walked up Harrington Gardens to the
+door of my friend's house, which I saw was already
+ajar in anticipation of my arrival.</p>
+
+<p>Closing the door noiselessly, in order not to
+attract the attention of the alert porter who
+lived in the basement, I crept up the carpeted
+stairs to the door of the flat, which I found also
+ajar.</p>
+
+<p>Having closed the door, I slipped into the hall and
+made my way to the warm, cosy room I had left
+earlier that night.</p>
+
+<p>The door was closed, and without ceremony I
+turned the handle.</p>
+
+<p>I threw it open laughingly in order to surprise
+my friend, but next instant halted in amazement
+upon the threshold.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I stood there breathless, staring in speechless
+wonder, and drawing back.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm really very sorry!" I exclaimed. "I
+thought Sir Digby was here!"</p>
+
+<p>The man who had risen from his chair and bowed
+when I opened the door was about the same build,
+but, apparently, a trifle younger. He had iron-grey
+hair and a pointed beard, but his face was
+more triangular, with higher cheek-bones, and eyes
+more brilliant and deeper set.</p>
+
+<p>His thin countenance relaxed into a pleasant
+smile as he replied in a calm, suave voice:</p>
+
+<p>"I am Sir Digby Kemsley, and you&mdash;I believe&mdash;are
+Mr. Edward Royle&mdash;my friend&mdash;my very
+intimate friend&mdash;are you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"You!" I gasped, staring at him.</p>
+
+<p>And then, for several seconds I failed to articulate
+any further words. The imposture was so
+utterly barefaced.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not Sir Digby Kemsley," I went on
+angrily at last. "What trick is this?"</p>
+
+<p>"No trick whatever, my dear Royle," was the
+man's quiet reply as he stood upon the hearthrug
+in the same position in which my friend had stood
+an hour before. "I tell you that my name is
+Kemsley&mdash;Sir Digby Kemsley."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you assert that this flat is yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"Most certainly I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Bosh! How can you expect me to believe
+such a transparent tale?" I cried impatiently.
+"Where is my friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am your friend, my dear Royle!" he
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not."</p>
+
+<p>"But did you not, only an hour ago, promise
+him to treat his successor in the same manner in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
+which you had treated himself?" the man
+asked very slowly, his high, deep-set eyes fixed
+upon me with a crafty, almost snake-like expression,
+an expression that was distinctly one
+of evil.</p>
+
+<p>"True, I did," was my quick reply. "But
+I never bargained for this attempted imposture."</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you it is no imposture!" declared the
+man before me. "You will, perhaps, understand
+later. Have a cigar," and he took up Digby's
+box and handed it to me.</p>
+
+<p>I declined very abruptly, and without much
+politeness, I fear.</p>
+
+<p>I was surveying the man who, with such astounding
+impudence, was attempting to impose
+upon me a false identity. There was something
+curiously striking in his appearance, but what it
+was I could not exactly determine. His speech
+was soft and educated, in a slightly higher pitch
+than my friend's; his hands white and carefully
+manicured, yet, as he stood, I noted that his left
+shoulder was slightly higher than the other, that
+his dress clothes ill-fitted him in consequence; that
+in his shirt-front were two rare, orange-coloured
+gems such as I had never seen before, and, further,
+that when I caught him side face, it much resembled
+Digby's, so aquiline as to present an almost
+birdlike appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here!" I exclaimed in anger a few
+moments later. "Why have you called me over
+here? When you spoke to me your voice struck
+me as peculiar, but I put it down to the distortion
+of sound on the telephone."</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to see if you recognised my other
+self," he answered with a smile.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"At this late hour? Couldn't you have postponed
+your ghastly joke till the morning?" I
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Joke!" he echoed, his face suddenly pale
+and serious. "This is no joke, Royle, but a very
+serious matter. The most serious that can occur
+in any man's life."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what is it? Tell me the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall know that later."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Sir Digby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here! I am Sir Digby, I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"I mean my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"I am your friend," was the man's response,
+as he turned away towards the writing-table.
+"The friend you first met on the Lake of
+Garda."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, why all this secrecy?" I asked. "I
+was first called here and warned not to show myself,
+and, on arrival, find you here."</p>
+
+<p>"And who else did you expect to find?" he
+asked with a faint smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I expected to find my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"But I am your friend," he asserted. "You
+promised me only an hour ago that you would
+treat my successor exactly as you treated me.
+And," he added, "I am my own successor!"</p>
+
+<p>I stood much puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>There were certain features in his countenance
+that were much like Digby's, and certain
+tones in his voice that were the same. His hands
+seemed the same, too, and yet he was not Digby
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>"How can I believe you if you refuse to be frank
+and open with me?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"You promised me, Royle, and a good deal
+depends upon your promise," he replied, looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>
+me squarely in the face. "Perhaps even your
+own future."</p>
+
+<p>"My future!" I echoed. "What has that to
+do with you, pray?" I demanded angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"More than you imagine," was his low response,
+his eyes fixed upon mine.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, all I know is that you are endeavouring
+to make me believe that you are what you are not.
+Some evil purpose is, no doubt, behind it all. But
+such an endeavour is an insult to my intelligence,"
+I declared.</p>
+
+<p>The man laughed a low, harsh laugh and turned
+away.</p>
+
+<p>"I demand to know where my friend is!" I cried,
+stepping after him across the room, and facing
+him again.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Royle," he replied, in that curious,
+high-pitched voice, yet with a calm, irritating
+demeanour. "Haven't I already told you I am
+your friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a lie! You are not Sir Digby!" I cried
+angrily. "I shall inform the police that I've
+found you usurping his place and name, and leave
+them to solve the mystery."</p>
+
+<p>"Act just as you think fit, my dear old fellow,"
+he laughed. "Perhaps the police might discover
+more than you yourself would care for them to
+know."</p>
+
+<p>His words caused me to ponder. At what could
+he be hinting?</p>
+
+<p>He saw my hesitancy, and with a sudden movement
+placed his face close to me, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow look&mdash;look into my countenance,
+you surely can penetrate my disguise. It cannot
+be so very perfect, surely."</p>
+
+<p>I looked, but turned from him in disgust.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No. Stop this infernal fooling!" I cried.
+"I've never seen you before in my life."</p>
+
+<p>He burst out laughing&mdash;laughed heartily, and
+with genuine amusement.</p>
+
+<p>His attitude held me in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"You refuse to be my friend, Royle&mdash;but
+I desire to be yours, if you will allow me," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"I can have no friend whom I cannot trust,"
+I repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally. But I hope you will soon learn
+to trust me," was his quiet retort. "I called you
+back to-night in order to see if you&mdash;my most
+intimate friend&mdash;would recognise me. But you do
+not. I am, therefore, safe&mdash;safe to go forth and
+perform a certain mission which it is imperative
+that I should perform."</p>
+
+<p>"You are fooling me," I declared.</p>
+
+<p>For a second he looked straight and unflinchingly
+into my eyes, then with a sudden movement
+he drew the left cuff of his dress shirt up to
+the elbow and held out his forearm for me to
+gaze upon.</p>
+
+<p>I looked.</p>
+
+<p>Then I stood dumbfounded, for half-way up
+the forearm, on the inside, was the cicatrice of
+an old knife wound which long ago, he had told
+me, had been made by an Indian in South America
+who had attempted to kill him, and whom he had
+shot in self-defence.</p>
+
+<p>"You believe me now?" he asked, in a voice
+scarce above a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," I said. "Pardon me, Digby&mdash;but
+this change in your personality is marvellous&mdash;almost
+superhuman!"</p>
+
+<p>"So I've been told before," he replied lightly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But, really, didn't you penetrate it?" he asked,
+resuming his normal voice.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I certainly did not," I answered, and
+helping myself to a drink, swallowed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" I went on. "What does this
+mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"At present I can't exactly tell you what I
+intend doing," he replied. "To-night I wanted to
+test you, and have done so. It's late now," he
+added, glancing at the clock, which showed it to be
+half-past two o'clock in the morning. "Come in
+to-morrow at ten, will you?" he asked. "I want
+to discuss the future with you very seriously. I
+have something to say which concerns your own
+future, and which also closely concerns a friend
+of yours. So come in your own interests, Royle&mdash;now
+don't fail, I beg of you!"</p>
+
+<p>"But can't you tell me to-night," I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Not until I know something of what my own
+movements are to be," he replied. "I cannot
+know before to-morrow," he replied with a mysterious
+air. "So if you wish to be forewarned of an
+impending peril, come and see me and I will then
+explain. We shall, no doubt, be on closer terms
+to-morrow. <i>Au revoir</i>," and he took my hand
+warmly and then let me out.</p>
+
+<p>The rather narrow, ill-lit staircase, the outer
+door of which had been shut for hours, was close and
+stuffy, but as I descended the second flight and
+was about to pass along the hall to the door, I distinctly
+heard a movement in the shadow where,
+on my left, the hall continued along to the door
+of the ground-floor flat.</p>
+
+<p>I peered over the banisters, but in the darkness
+could distinguish nothing.</p>
+
+<p>That somebody was lurking there I instantly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+felt assured, and next moment the truth became
+revealed by two facts.</p>
+
+<p>The first was a light, almost imperceptible noise,
+the jingle of a woman's bangles, and, secondly,
+the faint odour of some subtle perfume, a sweet,
+intoxicating scent such as my nostrils had never
+greeted before.</p>
+
+<p>For the moment I felt surprise, but as the hidden
+lady was apparently standing outside the ground-floor
+flat&mdash;perhaps awaiting admittance&mdash;I felt it
+to be no concern of mine, and proceeding, opened
+the outer door and passed outside, closing it quietly
+after me.</p>
+
+<p>An unusually sweet perfume one can seldom
+forget. Even out in the keen night air that delightful
+odour seemed to cling to my memory&mdash;the
+latest creation of the Rue de la Paix, I
+supposed.</p>
+
+<p>Well, I duly returned home to Albemarle Street
+once again, utterly mystified.</p>
+
+<p>What did it all mean? Why had Digby
+adopted such a marvellous disguise? What
+did he mean by saying that he wished to
+stand my friend and safeguard me from impending
+evil?</p>
+
+<p>Yes, it was all a mystery&mdash;but surely not so
+great a mystery as that which was to follow. Ah!
+had I but suspected the astounding truth how very
+differently would I have acted!</p>
+
+<p>Filled with curiosity regarding Digby's strange
+forebodings, I alighted from a taxi in Harrington
+Gardens at a quarter to eleven that same morning,
+but on entering found the uniformed hall-porter
+in a great state of excitement and alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, sir!" he cried breathlessly, advancing
+towards me. "You're a friend of Sir Digby's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
+sir. The police are upstairs. Something extraordinary
+has happened."</p>
+
+<p>"The police!" I gasped. "Why, what's happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir. As his man left the day before yesterday,
+my wife went up to Sir Digby's flat as usual
+this morning about eight, and put him his early
+cup of tea outside his door. But when she went
+in again she found he had not taken it into his room.
+She believed him to be asleep, so not till ten o'clock
+did she go into the sitting-room to draw up the
+blinds, when, to her horror, she found a young
+lady, a perfect stranger, lying stretched on the
+floor there! She rushed down and told me, and
+I went up. I found that Sir Digby's bed hadn't
+been slept in, and that though the poor girl was
+unconscious, she was still breathing. So I at once
+called in the constable on point duty at the corner
+of Collingham Road, and he 'phoned to the police
+station."</p>
+
+<p>"But the girl&mdash;is she dead?" I inquired
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, sir. You'd better go upstairs.
+There's an inspector, two plain-clothes men, and a
+doctor up there."</p>
+
+<p>He took me up in the lift, and a few moments
+later I stood beside Digby's bed, whereon the men
+had laid the inanimate form of a well-dressed girl
+whom I judged to be about twenty-two, whose dark
+hair, unbound, lay in disorder upon the pillow.
+The face, white as marble, was handsome and
+clean cut, but upon it, alas! was the ashen hue
+of death, the pale lips slightly parted as though in
+a half-sarcastic smile.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor was bending over her making his
+examination.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I looked upon her for a moment, but it was a
+countenance which I had never seen before. Digby
+had many lady friends, but I had never seen her
+among them. She was a perfect stranger.</p>
+
+<p>Her gown was of dark blue serge, smartly made,
+and beneath her coat she wore a cream silk blouse
+with deep sailor collar open at the neck, and a soft
+flowing bow of turquoise blue. This, however, had
+been disarranged by the doctor in opening her
+blouse to listen to her breathing, and I saw that
+upon it was a small crimson stain.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, she was remarkably good-looking, without
+a doubt.</p>
+
+<p>When I announced myself as an intimate friend
+of Sir Digby Kemsley, the inspector at once took
+me into the adjoining room and began to eagerly
+question me.</p>
+
+<p>With him I was perfectly frank; but I said
+nothing regarding my second visit there in the
+night.</p>
+
+<p>My gravest concern was the whereabouts of my
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a very curious case, Mr. Royle,"
+declared the inspector. "The C.I.D. men have
+established one fact&mdash;that another woman was with
+the stranger here in the early hours of this morning.
+This hair-comb"&mdash;and he showed me a small
+side-comb of dark green horn&mdash;"was found close
+beside her on the floor. Also a couple of hair-pins,
+which are different to those in the dead woman's
+hair. There was a struggle, no doubt, and the
+woman got away. In the poor girl's hair are two
+tortoiseshell side-combs."</p>
+
+<p>"But what is her injury?" I asked breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"She's been stabbed," he replied. "Let's go
+back."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Together we re-entered the room, but as we did
+so we saw that the doctor had now left the
+bedside, and was speaking earnestly with the two
+detectives.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, doctor?" asked the inspector in a low
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"She's quite dead&mdash;murder, without a doubt,"
+was his reply. "The girl was struck beneath
+the left breast&mdash;a small punctured wound, but
+fatal!"</p>
+
+<p>"The woman who left this hair-comb behind
+knows something about the affair evidently,"
+exclaimed the inspector. "We must first discover
+Sir Digby Kemsley. He seems to have been
+here up until eleven o'clock last night. Then he
+mysteriously disappeared, and the stranger
+entered unseen, two very curious and suspicious
+circumstances. I wonder who the poor girl
+was?"</p>
+
+<p>The two detectives were discussing the affair in
+low voices. Here was a complete and very remarkable
+mystery, which, from the first, the police
+told me they intended to keep to themselves, and
+not allow a syllable of it to leak out to the public
+through the newspapers.</p>
+
+<p>A woman had been there!</p>
+
+<p>Did there not exist vividly in my recollection
+that strange encounter in the darkness of the stairs?
+The jingle of the golden bangles, and the sweet odour
+of that delicious perfume?</p>
+
+<p>But I said nothing. I intended that the police
+should prosecute their inquiries, find my friend, and
+establish the identity of the mysterious girl who had
+met with such an untimely end presumably at the
+hands of that woman who had been lurking in the
+darkness awaiting my departure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Truly it was a mystery, a most remarkable problem
+among the many which occur each week amid the
+amazing labyrinth of humanity which we term
+London life.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Digby Kemsley had disappeared. Where?</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour after noon I had left Harrington
+Gardens utterly bewildered, and returned to
+Albemarle Street, and at half-past one met Phrida
+at the Berkeley, where, as I have already
+described, we lunched together.</p>
+
+<p>I had revealed to her everything under seal
+of the secrecy placed upon me by the police&mdash;everything
+save that suspicion I had had in the
+darkness, and the suspicion the police also held&mdash;the
+suspicion of a woman.</p>
+
+<p>Relation of the curious affair seemed to have
+unnerved her. She had become paler and was
+fidgeting with her serviette. Loving me so devotedly,
+she seemed to entertain vague and ridiculous
+fears regarding my own personal safety.</p>
+
+<p>"It was very foolish and hazardous of you to
+have returned there at that hour, dear," she declared
+with sweet solicitation, as she drew on her white
+gloves preparatory to leaving the restaurant,
+for I had already paid the bill and drained my
+liqueur-glass.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why," I said. "Whatever could
+have happened to me, when&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>My sentence remained unfinished.</p>
+
+<p>I held my breath. The colour must have left my
+cheeks, I know.</p>
+
+<p>My well-beloved had at that moment opened
+her handbag and taken out her wisp of lace
+handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>My nostrils were instantly filled with that same
+sweet, subtle perfume which I so vividly recollected,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
+the identical perfume of the woman concealed in
+that dark passage-way!</p>
+
+<p>Her bangles, two thin gold ones, jingled as she
+moved&mdash;that same sound which had come up to
+me from the blackness. I sat like a statue, staring
+at her amazed, aghast, like a man in a dream.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>DESCRIBES THE TRYSTING-PLACE.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">I drove</span> Phrida back to Cromwell Road in a taxi.</p>
+
+<p>As I sat beside her, that sweet irritating perfume
+filled my senses, almost intoxicating me. For
+some time I remained silent; then, unable to
+longer restrain my curiosity, I exclaimed with a
+calm, irresponsible air, though with great difficulty
+of self-restraint:</p>
+
+<p>"What awfully nice perfume you have, dearest!
+Surely it's new, isn't it? I never remember smelling
+it before!"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite new, and rather delicious, don't you
+think? My cousin Arthur brought it from Paris
+a few days ago. I only opened the bottle last night.
+Mother declared it to be the sweetest she's ever
+smelt. It's so very strong that one single drop is
+sufficient."</p>
+
+<p>"What do they call it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Parfait d'Amour. Lauzan, in the Plac&eacute; Vend&ocirc;me,
+makes it. It's quite new, and not yet on the market,
+Arthur said. He got it&mdash;a sample bottle&mdash;from a
+friend of his in the perfume trade."</p>
+
+<p>Not on the market! Those words of hers con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>demned
+her. Little did she dream that I had
+smelt that same sweet, subtle odour as I descended
+the stairs from Sir Digby's flat. She, no doubt, had
+recognised my silhouette in the half darkness, yet
+nevertheless she felt herself quite safe, knowing
+that I had not seen her.</p>
+
+<p>Why had she been lurking there?</p>
+
+<p>A black cloud of suspicion fell upon me. She
+kept up a desultory conversation as we went along
+Piccadilly in the dreary gloom of that dull January
+afternoon, but I only replied in monosyllables, until
+at length she remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Teddy, you're not thinking of a word
+I'm saying. I suppose your mind is centred upon
+your friend&mdash;the man who has turned out to be an
+impostor."</p>
+
+<p>The conclusion of that sentence and its tone
+showed a distinct antagonism.</p>
+
+<p>It was true that the man whom I had known
+as Sir Digby Kemsley&mdash;the man who for years past
+had been so popular among a really good set in
+London&mdash;was according to the police an impostor.</p>
+
+<p>The detective-inspector had told me so. From the
+flat in Harrington Gardens the men of the Criminal
+Investigation Department had rung up New Scotland
+Yard to make their report, and about noon, while I
+was resting at home in Albemarle Street, I was told
+over the telephone that my whilom friend was not
+the man I had believed him to be.</p>
+
+<p>As I had listened to the inspector's voice, I heard
+him say:</p>
+
+<p>"There's another complication of this affair,
+Mr. Royle. Your friend could not have been Sir
+Digby Kemsley, for that gentleman died suddenly
+a year ago, at Huacho, in Peru. There was some
+mystery about his death, it seems, for it was reported<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>
+by the British Consul at Lima. Inspector Edwards,
+of the C.I. Department, will call upon you this
+afternoon. What time could you conveniently
+be at home?"</p>
+
+<p>I named five o'clock, and that appointment
+I intended, at all hazards, to keep.</p>
+
+<p>The big, heavily-furnished drawing-room in
+Cromwell Road was dark and sombre as I stood with
+Phrida, who, bright and happy, pulled off her
+gloves and declared to her mother&mdash;that charming,
+sedate, grey-haired, but wonderfully preserved,
+woman&mdash;that she had had such "a jolly lunch."</p>
+
+<p>"I saw the Redmaynes there, mother," she was
+saying. "Mr. Redmayne has asked us to lunch
+with them at the Carlton next Tuesday. Can
+we go?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so, dear," was her mother's reply.
+"I'll look at my engagements."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do let's go! Ida is coming home from
+her trip to the West Indies. I do want to see
+her so much."</p>
+
+<p>Strange it was that my well-beloved, in face of that
+amazing mystery, preserved such an extraordinary,
+nay, an astounding, calm. I was thinking of the
+little side-comb of green horn, for I had seen her
+wearing a pair exactly similar!</p>
+
+<p>Standing by I watched her pale sweet countenance,
+full of speechless wonder.</p>
+
+<p>After the first moment of suspense she had found
+herself treading firm ground, and now, feeling herself
+perfectly secure, she had assumed a perfectly frank
+and confident attitude.</p>
+
+<p>Yet the perfume still arose to my nostrils&mdash;the
+sweet, subtle scent which had condemned her.</p>
+
+<p>I briefly related to Mrs. Shand my amazing adventures
+of the previous night, my eyes furtively<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+upon Phrida's countenance the while. Strangely
+enough, she betrayed no guilty knowledge, but fell
+to discussing the mystery with ease and common-sense
+calm.</p>
+
+<p>"What I can't really make out is how your
+friend could have had the audacity to pose as Sir
+Digby Kemsley, well knowing that the real person
+was alive," she remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"The police have discovered that Sir Digby died
+in Peru last January," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"While your friend was in London?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. My friend&mdash;I shall still call him
+Sir Digby, for I have known him by no other name&mdash;has
+not been abroad since last July, when he went
+on business to Moscow."</p>
+
+<p>"How very extraordinary," remarked Mrs. Shand.
+"Your friend must surely have had some object in
+posing as the dead man."</p>
+
+<p>"But he posed as a man who was still alive!"
+I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Until, perhaps, he was found out," observed
+Phrida shrewdly. "Then he bolted."</p>
+
+<p>I glanced at her quickly. Did those words betray
+any knowledge of the truth, I wondered.</p>
+
+<p>"Apparently there was some mystery surrounding
+the death of Sir Digby at Huacho," I remarked.
+"The British Consul in Lima made a report upon it
+to the Foreign Office, who, in turn, handed it to
+Scotland Yard. I wonder what it was."</p>
+
+<p>"When you know, we shall be better able to
+judge the matter and to form some theory," Phrida
+said, crossing the room and re-arranging the big
+bowl of daffodils in the window.</p>
+
+<p>I remained about an hour, and then, amazed
+at the calmness of my well-beloved, I returned
+to my rooms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In impatience I waited till a quarter past five,
+when Haines ushered in a tall, well-dressed, clean-shaven
+man, wearing a dark grey overcoat and white
+slip beneath his waistcoat, and who introduced
+himself as Inspector Charles Edwards.</p>
+
+<p>"I've called, Mr. Royle, in order to make some
+further inquiries regarding this person you have
+known as Sir Digby Kemsley," he said when he had
+seated himself. "A very curious affair happened
+last night. I've been down to Harrington Gardens,
+and have had a look around there myself. Many
+features of the affair are unique."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I agreed. "It is curious&mdash;very curious."</p>
+
+<p>"I have a copy of your statement regarding your
+visit to the house during the night," said the
+official, who was one of the Council of Seven at the
+Yard, looking up at me suddenly from the cigarette
+he was about to light. "Have you any suspicion
+who killed the young lady?"</p>
+
+<p>"How can I have&mdash;except that my friend&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Is missing&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly."</p>
+
+<p>"But now, tell me all about this friend whom you
+knew as Sir Digby Kemsley. How did you first
+become acquainted with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I met him on a steamer on the Lake of Garda
+this last summer," was my reply. "I was staying
+at Riva, the little town at the north end of the
+lake, over the Austrian frontier, and one day took
+the steamer down to Gardone, in Italy. We sat
+next each other at lunch on board, and, owing to a
+chance conversation, became friends."</p>
+
+<p>"What did he tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, only that he was travelling for his health.
+He mentioned that he had been a great deal in
+South America, and was then over in Europe for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+holiday. Indeed, on the first day we met, he did
+not even mention his name, and I quite forgot to
+ask for it. In travelling one meets so many people
+who are only of brief passing interest. It was not
+until a week later, when I found him staying in the
+same hotel as myself, the Cavour, in Milan, I learnt
+from the hall-porter that he was Sir Digby Kemsley,
+the great engineer. We travelled to Florence
+together, and stayed at the Baglioni, but one
+morning when I came down I found a hurried note
+awaiting me. From the hall-porter I learned that
+a gentleman had arrived in the middle of the night,
+and Sir Digby, after an excited controversy, left
+with him for London. In the note he gave me his
+address in Harrington Gardens, and asked me not
+to fail to call on my return to town."</p>
+
+<p>"Curious to have a visitor in the middle of the
+night," remarked the detective reflectively.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so at the time, but, knowing him to
+be a man of wide business interests, concluded that
+it was someone who had brought him an urgent
+message," I replied. "Well, the rest is quickly
+told. On my return home I sought him out, with
+the result that we became great friends."</p>
+
+<p>"You had no suspicion that he was an impostor?"</p>
+
+<p>"None whatever. He seemed well known in
+London," I replied. "Besides, if he was not the
+real Sir Digby, how is it possible that he could have
+so completely deceived his friends! Why, he has
+visited the offices of Colliers, the great railway
+contractors in Westminster&mdash;the firm who constructed
+the railway in Peru. I recollect calling
+there with him in a taxi one day."</p>
+
+<p>Edwards smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"He probably did that to impress you, sir," he
+replied. "They may have known him as somebody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+else. Or he simply went in and made an inquiry.
+He's evidently a very clever person."</p>
+
+<p>Personally, I could not see how my friend could
+possibly have posed as Sir Digby Kemsley if he
+were not, even though Edwards pointed out that
+the real Sir Digby had only been in London a
+fortnight for the past nine years.</p>
+
+<p>Still, on viewing the whole situation, I confess
+inclination towards the belief that my friend was,
+notwithstanding the allegations, the real Sir Digby.</p>
+
+<p>And yet those strange words of his, spoken in such
+confidence on the previous night, recurred to me.
+There was mystery somewhere&mdash;a far more obscure
+mystery even than what was apparent at that
+moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me what is known concerning Sir Digby's
+death in Peru," I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"From the report furnished to us at the Yard it
+seems that one day last August, while the gentleman
+in question was riding upon a trolley on the Cerro
+de Pasco railway, the conveyance was accidentally
+overturned into a river, and he was badly injured
+in the spine. A friend of his, a somewhat mysterious
+Englishman named Cane, brought him down to
+the hospital at Lima, and after two months there,
+he becoming convalescent, was conveyed for fresh
+air to Huacho, on the sea. Here he lived with Cane
+in a small bungalow in a somewhat retired spot,
+until on one night in February last year something
+occurred&mdash;but exactly what, nobody is able to tell.
+Sir Digby was found by his Peruvian servant dead
+from snake-bite. Cane evinced the greatest distress
+and horror until, of a sudden, a second man-servant
+declared that he had heard his master cry out in
+terror as he lay helpless in his bed. He heard him
+shriek: 'You&mdash;you blackguard, Cane&mdash;take the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+thing away! Ah! God! You've&mdash;you've killed
+me!' Cane denied it, and proved that he was at
+a friend's house playing cards at the hour when
+the servant heard his master shout for help. Next
+day, however, he disappeared. Our Consul in Lima
+took up the matter, and in due course a full report
+of the affair was forwarded to the Yard, together
+with a very detailed description of the man wanted.
+This we sent around the world, but up to to-day
+without result."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the man Cane was apparently responsible
+for the death of the invalid," I remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"I think so&mdash;without a doubt."</p>
+
+<p>"But who was the invalid? Was he the real
+Sir Digby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, that's the question," said Edwards,
+thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. For
+some moments we both sat staring blankly into
+the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Among the papers sent to us," he said very
+slowly at last, "was this. Read it, and tell me
+your opinion."</p>
+
+<p>And then he took from his pocket-book and handed
+me a half-sheet of thin foreign notepaper, which had
+been closely written upon on both sides. It was
+apparently a sheet from a letter, for there was no
+beginning and no ending.</p>
+
+<p>The handwriting was educated, though small and
+crabbed, and the ink brown and half-faded, perhaps
+because of its exposure to a tropical climate. It
+had been written by a man, without a doubt.</p>
+
+<p>"That," said Edwards, "was found in a pocket-book
+belonging to Cane, which, in his hasty flight,
+he apparently forgot. According to our report the
+wallet was found concealed beneath the mattress of
+his bed, as though he feared lest anyone should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
+read and learn what it contained. Read it, and
+tell me what you think."</p>
+
+<p>I took the sheet of thin paper in my fingers, and,
+crossing the room to a brighter light, managed to
+decipher the writing as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"... At fourteen paces from where this wall
+rises from the lawn stands the ever-plashing fountain.
+The basin is circular, while around runs a paved path,
+hemmed in by smoke-blackened laurels and cut off
+from the public way by iron railings. The water
+falls with pleasant cadence into a small basin set
+upon a base of moss-grown rockwork. Looking
+south one meets a vista of green grass, of never-ceasing
+London traffic, and one tall distant factory
+chimney away in the grey haze, while around the
+fountain are four stunted trees. On the right
+stretches a strip of garden, in spring green and gay
+with bulbs which bloom and die unnoticed by the
+hundreds upon hundreds of London's workers who
+pass and re-pass daily in their mad, reckless hurry
+to earn the wherewithal to live.</p>
+
+<p>"Halt upon the gravel at that spot on the twenty-third
+of the month punctually at noon, and she will
+pass wearing the yellow flower. It is the only
+trysting-place. She has kept it religiously for one
+whole year without&mdash;alas!&mdash;effecting a meeting.
+Go there&mdash;tell her that I still live, shake her hand
+in greeting and assure her that I will come there as
+soon as ever I am given strength so to do.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been at that spot once only, yet every
+detail of its appearance is impressed indelibly upon
+my memory. Alas! that I do not know its
+name. Search and you will assuredly find it&mdash;and
+you will see her. You will speak, and give
+her courage."</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I bit my lip.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden thought illuminated my mind.</p>
+
+<p>The yellow flower!</p>
+
+<p>Was not the mysterious woman whom I was to
+meet on the night of the fourteenth also to wear
+a yellow flower&mdash;the mimosa!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>"DEAR OLD DIG."</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">I told</span> Edwards nothing of Sir Digby's curious
+request, of his strange confidences, or of the mysterious
+letter to "E. P. K.", which now reposed
+in a locked drawer in my writing-table.</p>
+
+<p>My friend, be he impostor or not, had always
+treated me strictly honourably and well. Therefore,
+I did not intend to betray him, although he might
+be a fugitive hunted by the police.</p>
+
+<p>Yet was he a fugitive? Did not his words to
+me and his marvellous disguise prior to the tragedy
+imply an intention to disappear?</p>
+
+<p>The enigma was indeed beyond solution.</p>
+
+<p>At seven o'clock my visitor, finding necessity to
+revisit Harrington Gardens, I eagerly accompanied
+him.</p>
+
+<p>There is a briskness and brightness in Piccadilly
+at seven o'clock on a clear, cold, winter's night
+unequalled in any thoroughfare in the world. On
+the pavements and in the motor-buses are thousands
+of London's workers hurrying to their homes in
+western suburbs, mostly the female employees of
+the hundreds of shops and work-rooms which supply
+the world's fashions&mdash;for, after all, London has now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
+ousted Paris as the centre of the feminine mode&mdash;the
+shops are still gaily lit, the club windows have not
+yet drawn their blinds, and as motors and taxis
+flash past eastward, one catches glimpses of pretty
+women in gay evening gowns, accompanied by their
+male escorts on pleasure bent: the restaurant,
+the theatre, and the supper, until the unwelcome
+cry&mdash;that cry which resounds at half-past twelve
+from end to end of Greater London, "Time, please,
+ladies and gentlemen. Time!"&mdash;the pharisaical
+decree that further harmless merriment is forbidden.
+How the foreigner laughs at our childish obedience
+to the decree of the killjoys. And well he may,
+especially when we know full well that while the
+good people of the middle class are forced to return
+to the dulness of their particular suburb, the people
+of the class above them can sneak in by back doors
+of unsuspected places, and indulge in drinking,
+gambling, and dancing till daylight. Truly the
+middle-class Londoner is a meek, obedient person.
+One day, however, he may revolt.</p>
+
+<p>Piccadilly was particularly bright and gay that
+night, as, passing the end of St. James's Street, we
+sped forward in the taxi towards Brompton Road
+and past the Natural History Museum to Gloucester
+Road.</p>
+
+<p>On our arrival the door of the flat was opened by
+a constable without a helmet. Recognising the
+famous inspector, he saluted.</p>
+
+<p>The body of the unknown girl had been removed
+to the mortuary for a post-mortem examination,
+but nothing else had been moved, and two officers
+of the C.I.D. were busy making examination for
+finger-prints.</p>
+
+<p>I allowed them to take mine for comparison, but
+some they found upon the mahogany table and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+upon the back of a chair were undoubtedly those of
+the victim herself.</p>
+
+<p>The small glass-topped specimen-table still lay
+where it had been overturned, and the fragments of
+the two green-glass flower-vases were strewn upon the
+carpet with the drooping red anemones themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Regarding the overturned table the two detectives
+held that it had separated the assassin from his
+victim; that the girl had been chased around it
+several times before her assailant had thrown it
+down, suddenly sprung upon her, and delivered the
+fatal blow, full in her chest.</p>
+
+<p>"We've thoroughly examined it for finger-prints,
+sir," the elder of the two officers explained to my
+companion. "Both on the glass top and on the
+mahogany edge there are a number of prints of the
+victim herself, as well as a number made by another
+hand."</p>
+
+<p>"A man's?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No; curiously enough, it seems to be a woman's,"
+was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>"A woman's!"</p>
+
+<p>I thought of that sweet perfume, and of the person
+who had lurked in the shadow of the stairs!</p>
+
+<p>"That's interesting," remarked Edwards. "They
+may be those of the woman who wore green combs
+in her hair, or else of the porter's wife."</p>
+
+<p>"The owner's man-servant is away abroad on
+business for his master, we've found out," answered
+the man addressed. "So of late the porter's wife,
+who lives in the basement of the next house, has
+been in the habit of coming in every day and tidying
+up the room. We took her prints this morning,
+and have found quite a lot about the place. No,"
+added the man emphatically, "the finger-prints on
+that little table yonder are not those of the porter's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
+wife, but of another woman who's been here recently.
+We only find them upon the door-handle and on the
+edge of the writing-table, against which the woman
+must have leaned. We'll have them photographed
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>The men then showed us the marks in question&mdash;distinct
+impressions of small finger-tips, which
+they had rendered vivid and undeniable by the
+application of a finely-powdered chalk of a pale
+green colour.</p>
+
+<p>Apparently the two experts had devoted the whole
+day to the search for finger-print clues, and they
+had established the fact that two women had been
+there&mdash;the victim and another.</p>
+
+<p>Who was she?</p>
+
+<p>The investigation of the papers in my friend's
+writing-table had not yet been made. Inspector
+Edwards had telephoned earlier in the day, stating
+that he would himself go through them.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, exercising every care not to obliterate
+the three finger-marks upon the edge of the table, the
+officers proceeded to break open drawer after
+drawer and methodically examine the contents while
+I looked on.</p>
+
+<p>The work was exciting. At any moment we might
+discover something which would throw light upon
+the tragedy, the grim evidence of which remained
+in that dark, still damp stain upon the carpet&mdash;the
+life-blood of the unknown victim.</p>
+
+<p>Already the face of the dead girl had been
+photographed, and would, before morning, be
+circulated everywhere in an endeavour to secure
+identification.</p>
+
+<p>I had learnt from Edwards that before noon that
+morning, upon the notice-board outside Bow Street
+Police Station, there had been posted one of those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>
+pale, buff-coloured bills headed in great, bold
+capitals: "Body found," in which the description
+had been filled in by a clerkish hand, and at the
+bottom a statement that the corpse was lying at the
+Kensington Mortuary awaiting identification.</p>
+
+<p>That she was a lady seemed established by her
+dress, her well-kept hands, innocent of manual
+labour, by the costly rings and bracelet she was
+wearing, and the fact that, in the pocket of her
+coat was found her purse containing eleven pounds
+in gold and some silver.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Digby's papers promised to be extremely
+interesting, as we cleared the books off a side-table
+and sat down to carefully investigate them.</p>
+
+<p>The writing-table was a pedestal one, with a
+centre drawer and four drawers on either side. The
+first drawer burst open was the top one on the left,
+and from it Edwards drew two bundles of letters,
+each secured by faded pink tape.</p>
+
+<p>These bundles he handed to me, saying&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"See what you think of these, Mr. Royle!"</p>
+
+<p>One after another I opened them. They were all
+in the same sprawly handwriting of a woman&mdash;a
+woman who simply signed herself "Mittie."</p>
+
+<p>They were love-letters written in the long ago,
+many commencing "My darling," or "Dearest,"
+and some with "Dear old Dig."</p>
+
+<p>Though it seemed mean of me to peer into the
+closed chapter of my friend's history, I quickly
+found myself absorbed in them. They were the
+passionate outpourings of a brave but overburdened
+heart. Most of them were dated from hotels in
+the South of England and in Ireland, and were
+apparently written at the end of the eighties. But
+as no envelopes had been preserved they gave no
+clue to where the addressee had been at the time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Nearly all were on foreign notepaper, so we agreed
+that he must have been abroad.</p>
+
+<p>As I read, it became apparent that the writer and
+the addressee had been deeply in love with one
+another, but the lady's parents had forbidden their
+marriage; and as, alas! in so many like cases, she
+had been induced to make an odious but wealthier
+marriage. The man's name was Francis.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"He is, alas! just the same," she wrote in one
+letter dated "Mount Ephraim Hotel, at Tunbridge
+Wells, Thursday": "We have nothing in common.
+He only thinks of his dividends, his stocks and
+shares, and his business in the City always. I am
+simply an ornament of his life, a woman who acts
+as his hostess and relieves him of much trouble in
+social anxieties. If father had not owed him
+seventeen thousand pounds he would, I feel certain,
+never have allowed me to marry him. But I paid
+my father's debt with my happiness, with my very
+life. And you, dear old Dig, are the only person
+who knows the secret of my broken heart. You will
+be home in London seven weeks from to-day. I
+will meet you at the old place at three o'clock on
+the first of October, for I have much&mdash;so very much&mdash;to
+tell you. Father knows now how I hate this
+dull, impossible life of mine, and how dearly I love
+your own kind self. I told him so to-day, and he
+pities me. I hope you will get this letter before
+you leave, but I shall watch the movements of your
+ship, and I shall meet you on the first of October.
+Till then adieu.&mdash;Ever your own <span class="smcap">Mittie</span>."</p></div>
+
+<p>At the old place! Where was it, I wondered?
+At what spot had the secret meeting been effected
+between the man who had returned from abroad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>
+and the woman who loved him so well, though she had
+been forced to become the wife of another.</p>
+
+<p>That meeting had taken place more than twenty
+years ago. What had been its result was shown
+in the next letter I opened.</p>
+
+<p>Written from the Queen's Hotel at Hastings on
+the fourth of October, the unfortunate "Mittie,"
+who seemed to spend her life travelling on the
+South Coast, penned the following in a thin, uncertain
+hand:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Our meeting was a mistake, Dig, a grave mistake.
+We were watched by somebody in the employ of
+Francis. When I returned to Tunbridge Wells he
+taxed me with having met you, described our
+trysting-place&mdash;the fountain&mdash;and how we had
+walked and walked until, becoming too tired, we
+had entered that quiet little restaurant to dine.
+He has misjudged me horribly. The sneak who
+watched us must have lied to him, or he would
+never have spoken to me as he did&mdash;he would not
+have insulted me. That night I left him, and am
+here alone. Do not come near me, do not reply
+to this. It might make matters worse. Though
+we are parted, Dig, you know I love you and only
+you&mdash;<i>you</i>! Still your own <span class="smcap">Mittie</span>."</p></div>
+
+<p>I sat staring at that half-faded letter, taking no
+heed of what Edwards was saying.</p>
+
+<p>The fountain! They had met at the fountain,
+and had been seen!</p>
+
+<p>Could that spot be the same as mentioned in the
+mysterious letter left behind by the fugitive Cane
+after the sudden death of the Englishman away in
+far-off Peru?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Did someone, after all the lapse of years, go there
+on every twenty-third of the month at noon wearing
+a yellow flower, to wait for a person who, alas!
+never came?</p>
+
+<p>The thought filled me with romance, even though
+we were at that moment investigating a very remarkable
+tragedy. Yet surely in no city in this
+world is there so much romance, so much pathos,
+such whole-hearted love and affection, or such
+deep and deadly hatred as in our great palpitating
+metropolis, where secret assassinations are of daily
+occurrence, and where the most unpardonable sin
+is that of being found out.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that you've got hold of?" Edwards
+asked me, as he crossed to the table and bent
+over me.</p>
+
+<p>I started.</p>
+
+<p>Then, recovering myself&mdash;for I had no desire that
+he should know&mdash;replied, quite coolly:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, only a few old letters&mdash;written long ago, in
+the eighties."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Ancient history, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I replied, packing them together and retying
+them with the soiled, pink tape. "But have
+you discovered anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he replied with a self-conscious smile,
+"I've found a letter here which rather alters my
+theory," and I saw that he held a piece of grey
+notepaper in his hand. "Here is a note addressed
+to him as long ago as 1900 in the name of Sir
+Digby Kemsley! Perhaps, after all, the man
+who died so mysteriously in Peru was an impostor,
+and the owner of this place was the real
+Sir Digby!"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly my own theory," I declared.</p>
+
+<p>"But that fountain!" he remarked. "The foun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>tain
+mentioned in the letter left behind by the man
+Cane. We must take immediate steps to identify
+it, and it must be watched on the twenty-third
+for the coming of the woman who wears a yellow
+flower. When we find her, we shall be able to
+discover something very interesting, Mr. Royle.
+Don't you agree?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>"TIME WILL PROVE."</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">These</span> are truly the fevered days of journalistic
+enterprise the world over.</p>
+
+<p>There are no smarter journalists than those of
+Fleet Street, and none, not even in New York, with
+scent more keen for sensational news. "The day's
+story" is the first thought in every newspaper
+office, and surely no story would have been a greater
+"scoop" for any journal than the curious facts
+which I have related in the foregoing pages.</p>
+
+<p>But even though the gentlemen of the Press are
+ubiquitous, many a curious happening, and many
+a remarkable coroner's inquiry, often remain
+unreported.</p>
+
+<p>And so in this case. When, on the following
+morning, the coroner for the borough of Kensington
+held his inquiry in the little court off the High Street,
+no reporter was present, and only half a dozen idlers
+were seated in the back of the gloomy room.</p>
+
+<p>When the jury had taken their seats after viewing
+the remains, according to custom, the police inspector
+reported to the coroner that the body remained
+unidentified, though the description had been
+telegraphed everywhere.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I might add, sir," went on the inspector, "that
+there is strong belief that the young lady may be
+a foreigner. Upon the tab of her coat she was
+wearing was the name of a costumier: 'Sartori,
+Via Roma.' Only the name of the street, and
+not the town is given. But it must be somewhere
+in Italy. We are in communication with
+the Italian police with a view to ascertaining the
+name of the town, and hope thus to identify the
+deceased."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well!" said the coroner, a shrewd, middle-aged,
+clean-shaven man in gold pince-nez. "Let
+us have the evidence," and he arranged his papers
+with business-like exactitude.</p>
+
+<p>The procedure differed in no way from that in
+any other coroner's court in the kingdom, the
+relation of dry details by matter-of-fact persons
+spoken slowly in order that they might be carefully
+taken down.</p>
+
+<p>The scene was, indeed, a gloomy one, for the
+morning was dark, and the place was lit by electric
+light. The jury&mdash;twelve honest householders of
+Kensington&mdash;appeared from the outset eager to get
+back to their daily avocations. They were unaware
+of the curious enigma about to be presented to
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Not until I began to give my evidence did
+they appear to evince any curiosity regarding
+the case. But presently, when I had related
+my midnight interview with my friend, who was
+now a fugitive, the foreman put to me several
+questions.</p>
+
+<p>"You say that after your return from your
+visit from this man, Sir Digby Kemsley, he rang
+you up on the telephone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What did he say?" inquired the foreman, a
+thin, white-headed man whose social standing
+was no doubt slightly above that of his fellow
+jurymen.</p>
+
+<p>"He asked me to return to him at once," was
+my reply.</p>
+
+<p>"But this appears extraordinary&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"We are not here to criticise the evidence, sir!"
+interrupted the coroner sharply. "We are only
+here to decide how the deceased came by her death&mdash;by
+accident, or by violence. Have you any
+doubt?"</p>
+
+<p>The foreman replied in the negative, and refrained
+from further cross-examining me.</p>
+
+<p>The coroner himself, however, put one or two
+pointed questions. He asked me whether I believed
+that it had actually been Sir Digby speaking on the
+second occasion, when I had been rung up, to
+which I replied:</p>
+
+<p>"At first, the voice sounded unfamiliar."</p>
+
+<p>"At first! Did you recognise it afterwards?"</p>
+
+<p>I paused for a few seconds, and then was compelled
+to admit that I had not been entirely
+certain.</p>
+
+<p>"Voices are, of course, often distorted by the
+telephone," remarked the coroner. "But in this
+case you may have believed the voice to have been
+your friend's because he spoke of things which
+you had been discussing in private only half-an-hour
+before. It may have been the voice of a
+stranger."</p>
+
+<p>"That is my own opinion, sir," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he ejaculated, "and I entirely agree with
+you, for if your friend had contemplated the crime
+of murder he would scarcely have telephoned to
+you to come back. He would be most anxious to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
+get the longest start he could before the raising of
+any hue and cry."</p>
+
+<p>This remark further aroused the curiosity of the
+hitherto apathetic jury, who sat and listened intently
+to the medical evidence which followed.</p>
+
+<p>The result of the doctor's examination was
+quickly told, and not of great interest. He had
+been called by the police and found the young
+woman dying from a deep wound under the breast,
+which had penetrated to the heart, the result of a
+savage blow with some long, thin, and very sharp
+instrument. The girl was not dead when he first
+saw her, but she expired about ten minutes
+afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think that the weapon used was a
+knife with a very sharp, triangular blade judging
+from the wound," the spruce-looking doctor explained.
+"The police, however, have failed to
+discover it."</p>
+
+<p>The words of the witness held me dumbfounded.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you ever met with knives with triangular
+blades, doctor?" inquired the coroner.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes!" was the reply. "One sees them in
+collections of medi&aelig;val arms. In ancient days they
+were carried almost universally in Southern Europe&mdash;the
+blade about nine inches long, and sometimes
+perforated. Along the blade, grease impregnated
+with mineral poison was placed, so that, on striking,
+some of the grease would remain in the wound.
+This form of knife was most deadly, and in Italy it
+was known as a misericordia."</p>
+
+<p>I sat there listening with open mouth. Why?
+Because I knew where one of those curious knives
+had been&mdash;one with a carved handle of cracked,
+yellow ivory. I had often taken it up and looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+at the coat of arms carved upon the ivory&mdash;the
+shield with the six balls of the princely house of
+the Medici.</p>
+
+<p>"And in your opinion, doctor, the deceased
+came by her death from a blow from such a
+weapon as you describe?" the coroner was
+asking.</p>
+
+<p>"That is my firm opinion. The wound penetrated
+to the heart, and death was probably almost
+instantaneous."</p>
+
+<p>"Would she utter a cry?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think she would."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet no one seems to have heard any noise!"
+remarked the coroner. "Is that so?" he asked,
+turning to the police inspector.</p>
+
+<p>"We have no evidence of any cry being heard,"
+replied the officer. "I purposely asked the other
+tenants of the flats above and below. But they
+heard no unusual sound."</p>
+
+<p>One of the detective-sergeants was then called;
+Inspector Edwards, though present, being purposely
+omitted. In reply to the coroner, he described the
+finding of the body, its examination, and the
+investigation which ensued.</p>
+
+<p>"I need not ask you if you have any clue to the
+assassin," said the coroner, when he had concluded
+writing down the depositions. "I presume you are
+actively prosecuting inquiries?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," was the brief response.</p>
+
+<p>"I think, gentlemen," the coroner said, turning
+at last to the jury, "that we can go no further with
+this inquiry to-day. We must leave it for the police
+to investigate, and if we adjourn, let us say for a
+fortnight, we may then, I hope, have evidence of
+identification before us. The case certainly presents
+a number of curious features, not the least being the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
+fact that the owner of the flat has mysteriously fled.
+When he is found he will, no doubt, throw some light
+upon the puzzling affair. I have to thank you for
+your attendance to-day, gentlemen," he added,
+addressing the dozen respectable householders, "and
+ask you to be present again this day fortnight&mdash;at
+noon."</p>
+
+<p>There was evident dissatisfaction among the jury,
+as there is always when a coroner's inquest is ever
+adjourned.</p>
+
+<p>It is certainly the reverse of pleasant to be
+compelled to keep an appointment which may
+mean considerable out-of-pocket expense and much
+personal inconvenience.</p>
+
+<p>One juror, indeed, raised an objection, as he had
+to go to do business in Scotland. Whereupon the
+coroner, as he rose, expressed his regret but declared
+himself unable to assist him. It was, he remarked,
+his duty as a citizen to assist in this inquiry, and to
+arrive at a verdict.</p>
+
+<p>After that the court rose, and every one broke
+up into small groups to discuss the strange
+affair of which the Press were at present in
+ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>Edwards had crossed the room and was speaking
+to me. But I heard him not. I was thinking of
+that triangular-bladed weapon&mdash;the "misericordia"
+of the middle ages&mdash;so frequently used for stealthy
+knife-thrusts.</p>
+
+<p>"Coming?" he asked at last. This aroused me
+to a sense of my surroundings, and I followed him
+blindly out into the afternoon shopping bustle of
+High Street, Kensington.</p>
+
+<p>Outside the Underground Station were the flower-sellers.
+Some were offering that tribute which the
+Riviera never fails to send to us Londoners in spring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>&mdash;sprigs
+of mimosa: the yellow flower which would
+be worn by the mysterious "E. P. K.," the written
+message to whom reposed in my writing-table at
+home.</p>
+
+<p>Personally, I am not a man of mystery, but just
+an ordinary London business man, differing in no
+way to thousands of others who are at the head of
+prosperous commercial concerns. London with all
+its garish glitter, its moods of dulness and of
+gaiety, its petrol-smelling streets, its farces of
+passing life, and its hard and bitter dramas always
+appealed to me. It was my home, the atmosphere
+in which I had been born and bred, nay, my very
+existence. I loved London and was ever true to
+the city of my birth, even though its climate
+might be derided, and Paris claimed as the one
+city in which to find the acme of comfort and
+enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>I had not sought mystery&mdash;far from it. It had
+been thrust upon me, and now, as we went along
+the High Street in Kensington, towards the police-station,
+I found myself a sudden but important
+factor in a stern chase&mdash;a man-hunt&mdash;such as
+London had seldom known, for Edwards was saying
+to me:</p>
+
+<p>"At all hazards we must find your friend Kemsley,
+and you, Mr. Royle, must help us. You know him,
+and can identify him. There are grave suspicions
+against him, and these must be cleared up in
+view of the mysterious tragedy in Harrington
+Gardens."</p>
+
+<p>"You surely don't expect me to denounce my
+friend!" I cried.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not a question of denouncing him. His
+own actions have rendered the truth patent to
+every one. The girl was brutally killed, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>
+disappeared. Therefore he must be found,"
+Edwards said.</p>
+
+<p>"But who was it who telephoned to me, do you
+think?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Himself, perhaps. He was full of inventiveness,
+and he may have adopted that course hoping, when
+the time came, to prove an alibi. Who knows?"
+asked the famous inspector.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here!" I said as we crossed the threshold
+of the police-station, "I don't believe Sir Digby
+was either an impostor or an assassin."</p>
+
+<p>"Time will prove, Mr. Royle," he laughed with
+an incredulous air. "A man don't take all these
+precautions before disappearing unless he has a
+deeper motive. Your friend evidently knew of the
+lady's impending visit. Indeed, how could she have
+entered the flat had he not admitted her?"</p>
+
+<p>"She might have had a key," I hazarded.</p>
+
+<p>"Might&mdash;but not very likely," he said. "No,
+my firm conviction is that the man you know as
+Sir Digby Kemsley struck the fatal blow, and took
+the knife away with him."</p>
+
+<p>I shrugged my shoulders, but did not reply.</p>
+
+<p>Inside the station, we passed into the long room
+devoted to the officers of the Criminal Investigation
+Department attached to the division, and there
+met two sergeants who had given evidence.</p>
+
+<p>I was shown the photograph of the dead unknown,
+calm, and even pretty, just as I had seen her lying
+stretched in Digby's room.</p>
+
+<p>"The medical evidence was curious, Mr. Royle,
+wasn't it?" Edwards remarked. "That triangular
+knife ought not to be very difficult to trace. There
+surely are not many of them about."</p>
+
+<p>"No," I replied faintly, for the recollection of one
+which I had seen only a few days prior to the tragic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
+occurrence&mdash;the one with the arms of the Medici
+carved upon its hilt, arose vividly before me.</p>
+
+<p>To me, alas! the awful truth was now plain.</p>
+
+<p>My suspicion regarding the culprit had, by the
+doctor's evidence, become entirely confirmed.</p>
+
+<p>I set my jaws hard in agony of mind. What
+was a mystery of London was to me no longer a
+mystery!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PIECE OF CONVICTION.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">The</span> morning of the tenth of January was one of
+those of gloom and darkness which are, on occasions,
+the blots upon London's reputation.</p>
+
+<p>There seemed no fog, only a heavy, threatening
+cloud of night fell suddenly upon the city, and at
+three o'clock it might have been midnight. Streets,
+shops, and offices were lit everywhere, and buses
+and taxis compelled to light up, while in the atmosphere
+was a sulphurous odour with a black deposit
+which caused the eyes to smart and the lungs to
+irritate.</p>
+
+<p>Londoners know those periods of unpleasant
+darkness only too well.</p>
+
+<p>I was sitting in my room in Albemarle Street,
+watching Haines, who was cleaning a piece of old
+silver I had bought at an auction on the previous day.
+The collecting of old silver is, I may say, my hobby,
+and the piece was a very fine old Italian reliquary,
+about ten inches in height, with the Sicilian mark
+of the seventeenth century.</p>
+
+<p>Haines, under my tuition, had become an expert
+and careful cleaner of silver, and I was watching and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+exhorting him to exercise the greatest care, as the
+ornamentation was thin, and some of the scrollwork
+around the top extremely fragile. It had,
+according to the inscription at its base, contained a
+bone of a certain saint&mdash;a local saint of Palermo it
+seemed&mdash;but the relic had disappeared long ago.
+Yet the silver case which, for centuries, had stood
+upon an altar somewhere, was a really exquisite
+piece of the silversmith's art.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the telephone-bell rang, and on answering
+it I heard Phrida's voice asking&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Teddy, is that you? Why haven't you
+been over since Thursday?"</p>
+
+<p>I started, recollecting that I had not been to
+Cromwell Road since the afternoon of the inquest&mdash;three
+days ago.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, do forgive me," I craved. "I&mdash;I've been
+so horribly busy. Had to be at the works each day."</p>
+
+<p>"But you might have been over in the evening,"
+she responded in a tone of complaint. "You
+remember you promised to take me to the St.
+James's last night, and I expected you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dearest, I'm so sorry," I said. "But I've
+been awfully worried, you know. Do forgive me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know!" she answered. "Well, I'll
+forgive you if you'll run over now and take me to tea
+at the Leslies. I've ordered the car for four o'clock.
+Will that suit you?"</p>
+
+<p>The Leslies! They were snobbish folk with whom
+I had but little in common. Yet what could I do
+but agree?</p>
+
+<p>And then my well-beloved rang off.</p>
+
+<p>When I got down to Cromwell Road just before
+four o'clock, the darkness had not lifted.</p>
+
+<p>My feelings as I passed along the big, old-fashioned
+hall and up the thickly-carpeted stairs to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>
+drawing-room were mixed ones of doubt, and yet
+of deep affection.</p>
+
+<p>Ah, I loved Phrida&mdash;loved her better than my
+own life&mdash;and yet&mdash;&mdash;?</p>
+
+<p>Fresh in my memory was the doctor's evidence
+that the crime in Harrington Gardens had been
+committed with a thin, triangular knife&mdash;a knife
+such as that I had often seen lying upon the old-fashioned,
+walnut what-not in the corner of the room
+I was just about to enter. I had known it lying
+in the same place for years.</p>
+
+<p>Was it still there?</p>
+
+<p>Purposely, because I felt that it could no longer
+be there, I had refrained from calling upon my love,
+and now, when I paused and turned the handle of
+the drawing-room door, I hardly dared to cast my
+eyes upon that antiquated piece of furniture.</p>
+
+<p>Phrida, who was sitting with her hat and coat
+already on, jumped up gaily to meet me.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you really are prompt, Teddy!" she cried
+with a flush of pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>Then, as I bent over her mother's hand, the latter
+said&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You're quite a stranger, Mr. Royle. I expect
+you have been very upset over the curious disappearance
+of your friend. We've searched the
+papers every day, but could find nothing whatever
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>Phrida had turned towards the fire, her pretty
+head bent as she buttoned her glove.</p>
+
+<p>"No," I replied. "Up to the present the newspapers
+are in complete ignorance of the affair. But
+no doubt they'll learn all about it before long."</p>
+
+<p>Then, crossing the room to pick up a magazine
+lying upon a chair, I halted against the old walnut
+what-not.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Yes, the medi&aelig;val poignard was still lying there,
+just as I had always seen it!</p>
+
+<p>Had it been used, and afterwards replaced?</p>
+
+<p>I scarcely dared to glance at it, lest I should
+betray any unusual interest. I felt that Phrida's
+eyes were watching me, that she suspected my
+knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>I took up the magazine idly, glanced at it, and,
+replacing it, returned to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she asked, "are you ready?"</p>
+
+<p>And then together we descended to the car.</p>
+
+<p>All the way up to Abbey Road she hardly spoke.
+She seemed unusually pale and haggard. I asked
+her what was the matter, but she only replied in a
+faint, unnatural voice&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Matter? Why nothing&mdash;nothing, I assure you,
+Teddy!"</p>
+
+<p>I did not reply. I gazed upon the pretty, pale-faced
+figure at my side in wonder and yet in fear.
+I loved her&mdash;ah! I loved her well and truly, with all
+my soul. Yet was it possible that by means of that
+knife lying there so openly in that West-End drawing-room
+a woman's life had been treacherously taken.</p>
+
+<p>Had my friend Digby, the fugitive, actually
+committed the crime?</p>
+
+<p>When I put the whole matter clearly and with
+common-sense before myself, I was bound to admit
+that I had a strong belief of his innocence.</p>
+
+<p>What would those finger-prints reveal?</p>
+
+<p>The thought held me breathless. Yes, to satisfy
+myself I would surreptitiously secure finger-prints
+of my well-beloved and then in secret compare them
+with those found in Sir Digby's rooms.</p>
+
+<p>But how? I was reflecting as the car passed by
+Apsley House and into the Park on its way to St.
+John's Wood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Was I acting honestly? I doubted her, I quite
+admit. Yet I felt that if I took some object&mdash;a
+glass, or something with a polished surface&mdash;that she
+had touched, and submitted it to examination, I
+would be acting as a sneak.</p>
+
+<p>The idea was repugnant to me. Yet with
+that horrible suspicion obsessing me I felt
+that I must do something in order to satisfy
+myself.</p>
+
+<p>What inane small talk I uttered in the Leslies' big,
+over-furnished drawing-room I know not. All I
+remember is that I sat with some insipid girl whose
+hair was flaxen and as colourless as her mind,
+sipping my tea while I listened to her silly chatter
+about a Cook's tour she had just taken through
+Holland and Belgium. The estimable Cook is, alas!
+responsible for much tea-table chatter among the
+fair sex.</p>
+
+<p>Our hostess was an obese, flashily-dressed, dogmatic
+lady, the wife of the chairman of a big
+drapery concern who, having married her eldest
+daughter to a purchased knighthood, fondly believed
+herself to be in society&mdash;thanks to the "paid paragraphs"
+in the social columns of certain morning
+newspapers. It is really wonderful what half-guineas
+will do towards social advancement in these
+days! For a guinea one's presence can be recorded
+at a dinner, or an at home, or one's departure
+from town can be notified to the world in general
+in a paragraph all to one's self&mdash;a paragraph which
+rubs shoulders with those concerning the highest
+in the land. The snobbery of the "social column"
+would really be amusing were it not so painfully
+apparent. A good press-agent will, for a fee, give
+one as much publicity and newspaper popularity as
+that enjoyed by a duke, and most amazing is it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>
+that such paragraphs are swallowed with keen
+avidity by Suburbia.</p>
+
+<p>The Leslies were an average specimen of the upper
+middle-class, who were struggling frantically to
+get into a good set. The old man was bald, pompous,
+and always wore gold pince-nez and a fancy
+waistcoat. He carried his shop manners into his
+drawing-room, retaining his habit of rubbing his
+hands in true shop-walker style when he wished
+to be polite to his guests.</p>
+
+<p>His wife was a loud-tongued and altogether impossible
+person, who, it was said, had once served
+behind the counter in a small shop in Cardiff,
+but who now regarded the poor workers in her
+husband's huge emporium as mere money-making
+machines.</p>
+
+<p>By dint of careful cultivation at bazaars and
+such-like charitable functions she had scraped acquaintance
+with a few women of title, to whom she
+referred in conversation as "dear Lady So and So,
+who said to me the other day," or "as my friend
+Lady Violet always says."</p>
+
+<p>She had buttonholed me at last, though I had
+endeavoured to escape her, and was standing before
+me like a pouter-pigeon pluming herself and endeavouring
+to be humorous at the expense of a
+very modest little married woman who had been
+her guest that afternoon and had just left after
+shaking my hand.</p>
+
+<p>Women of Mrs. Leslie's stamp are perhaps the
+most evil-tongued of all. They rise from obscurity,
+and finding wealth at their command, imagine that
+they can command obeisance and popularity. Woe
+betide other women who arouse their jealousy, for
+they will scandalise and blight the reputation of
+the purest of their sex in the suburban belief<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>
+that the invention of scandal is the hallmark of
+smartness.</p>
+
+<p>At last I got rid of her, thanks to the arrival
+of an elegant young man, the younger son of a
+well-known peer, to whom, of course, she was at
+once all smiles, and, presently, I found myself out
+in the hall with Phrida. I breathed more freely
+when at last I passed into the keen air and entered
+the car.</p>
+
+<p>"Those people are impossible, dearest," I blurted
+out when the car had moved away from the door.
+"They are the most vulgar pair I know."</p>
+
+<p>"I quite agree," replied my well-beloved, pulling
+the fur rug over her knees. "But they are old
+friends of mother's, so I'm compelled to go and see
+them sometimes."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" I sighed. "I suppose the old draper
+will buy a knighthood at this year's sale for the
+King's Birthday, and then his fat wife will have a
+tin handle to her name."</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Teddy, you're simply awful," replied
+my companion. "If they heard you I wonder
+what they would say?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care," I replied frankly. "I only
+speak the truth. The Government sell their titles
+to anybody who cares to buy. Ah! I fear that
+few men who really deserve honour ever get it
+in these days. No man can become great unless
+he has the influence of money to back him. The
+biggest swindler who ever walked up Threadneedle
+Street can buy a peerage, always providing he is
+married and has no son. As old Leslie buys his
+calicoes, ribbons and women's frills, so he'll buy
+his title. He hasn't a son, so perhaps he'll fancy
+a peerage and become the Lord Bargain of Sale."</p>
+
+<p>Phrida laughed heartily at my biting sarcasm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Truth to tell, though I was uttering bitter sentiments,
+my thoughts were running in a very different
+direction. I was wondering how I could best
+obtain the finger-prints of the woman who held
+my future so irrevocably in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>I had become determined to satisfy myself of
+my love's innocence&mdash;or&mdash;can I write the words?&mdash;of
+her guilt!</p>
+
+<p>And as I sat there beside her, my nostrils again
+became filled by that sweet subtle perfume&mdash;the
+perfume of tragedy.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>FATAL FINGERS.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">Two</span> days passed.</p>
+
+<p>Those finger-prints&mdash;impressions left by a woman&mdash;upon
+the glass-topped specimen table in Sir
+Digby's room and on the door handle, were puzzling
+the police as they puzzled me. They had already
+been proved not to be those of the porter's wife,
+the lines being lighter and more refined.</p>
+
+<p>According to Edwards, after the finger-prints
+had been photographed, search had been made
+in the archives at Scotland Yard, but no record could
+be found that they were those of any person previously
+convicted.</p>
+
+<p>Were they imprints of the hand of my well-beloved?</p>
+
+<p>I held my breath each time that black and terrible
+suspicion filled my mind. I tried to put them aside,
+but, like a nightmare, they would recur to me hourly
+until I felt impelled to endeavour to satisfy myself
+as to her guilt or her innocence.</p>
+
+<p>I loved her. Yes, passionately and truly. Yet,
+somehow, I could not prevent this ever-recurring
+suspicion to fill my mind. There were so many
+small points to be elucidated&mdash;the jingle of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>
+golden bangles, and especially the perfume, which
+each time I entered her presence recalled to me all
+the strange and unaccountable happenings of that
+fatal night.</p>
+
+<p>Again, who was the poor, unidentified victim&mdash;the
+pale-faced, pretty young woman who had visited
+Digby clandestinely, and gone to her death?</p>
+
+<p>Up to the present the police notices circulated
+throughout the country had failed to establish
+who she was. Yet, if she were a foreigner, as
+seemed so likely, identification might be extremely
+difficult; indeed, she might ever remain a mystery.</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly ten o'clock at night when I called
+at Cromwell Road, for I had excused myself for
+not coming earlier, having an object in view.</p>
+
+<p>I found Phrida in the library, sweet and attractive
+in a pale blue gown cut slightly <i>d&eacute;collet&eacute;e</i>. She
+and her mother had been out to dinner somewhere
+in Holland Park, and had only just returned.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Shand drew an armchair for me to the fire,
+and we all three sat down to chat in the cosiness
+of the sombre little book-lined den. Bain, the
+old butler, who had known me almost since childhood,
+placed the tantalus, a syphon and glasses
+near my elbow, and at Phrida's invitation I poured
+myself out a drink and lit a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," I said, "you will have your usual
+lemonade"; and at my suggestion her mother
+ordered Bain to bring a syphon of that harmless
+beverage.</p>
+
+<p>My love reached forward for one of the glasses,
+whereupon I took one and, with a word of apology,
+declared that it was not quite clean.</p>
+
+<p>"Not clean!" exclaimed Mrs. Shand quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"There are a few smears upon it," I said, and
+adding "Excuse my handkerchief. It is quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+clean," I took the silk handkerchief I carried with
+me purposely, and polished it with the air of a
+professional waiter.</p>
+
+<p>Both Phrida and her mother laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Mr. Royle, you are full of eccentricities,"
+declared Mrs. Shand. "You always remind me
+of your poor father. He was most particular."</p>
+
+<p>"One cannot be too careful, or guard sufficiently
+against germs, you know," I said, handling the
+clean glass carefully and pouring out the lemonade
+from the syphon.</p>
+
+<p>Phrida took the glass from my hand, and laughing
+happily across its edge, drank. Her fingers were
+leaving tell-tale impressions upon its surface. And
+yet she was unconscious of my duplicity. Ah!
+yes, I hated myself for my double dealing. And
+yet so filled was I now by dark and breathless suspicion,
+that I found myself quite unable to resist
+an opportunity of establishing proof.</p>
+
+<p>I watched her as she, in all innocence, leaned back
+in the big saddle-bag chair holding her glass in
+her hand and now and then contemplating it. The
+impressions&mdash;impressions which could not lie&mdash;would
+be the means of exonerating her&mdash;or of condemning
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Those golden bangles upon her slim white wrist
+and that irritating perfume held me entranced.
+What did she know concerning that strange tragedy
+in Harrington Gardens. What, indeed, was the
+secret?</p>
+
+<p>My chief difficulty was to remain apparently
+indifferent. But to do so was indeed a task. I
+loved her, aye, with all my strength, and all my
+soul. Yet the black cloud which had fallen upon
+her was one of impenetrable mystery, and as I sat
+gazing upon her through the haze of my cigarette<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+smoke, I fell to wondering, just as I had wondered
+during all those hours which had elapsed since
+I had scented that first whiff of Parfait d'Amour,
+with which her chiffons seemed impregnated.</p>
+
+<p>At last she put down her empty glass upon the
+bookshelf near her. Several books had been
+removed, leaving a vacant space.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Shand had already risen and bade me good-night;
+therefore, we were alone. So I rose from
+my chair and, bending over her, kissed her fondly
+upon the brow.</p>
+
+<p>No. I would believe her innocent. That white
+hand&mdash;the soft little hand I held in mine could
+never have taken a woman's life. I refused to
+believe it, and yet!</p>
+
+<p>Did she know more of Sir Digby Kemsley than
+she had admitted? Why had she gone to his flat
+at that hour, lurking upon the stairs until he should
+be alone, and, no doubt, in ignorance that I was his
+visitor?</p>
+
+<p>As I bent over her, stroking her soft hair with
+my hand, I tried to conjure up the scene which
+had taken place in Sir Digby's room&mdash;the tragedy
+which had caused my friend to flee and hide himself.
+Surely, something of a very terrible nature
+must have happened, or my friend&mdash;impostor or
+not&mdash;would have remained, faced the music, and
+told the truth.</p>
+
+<p>I knew Digby better than most men. The police
+had declared him to be an impostor; nevertheless,
+I still believed in him, even though he was now a
+fugitive. Edwards had laughed at my faith in
+the man who was my friend, but I felt within me a
+strong conviction that he was not so black as pigheaded
+officialdom had painted him.</p>
+
+<p>The Council of Seven at Scotland Yard might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+be a clever combination of expert brains, but they
+were not infallible, as had been proved so many
+times in the recent annals of London crime.</p>
+
+<p>Phrida had not referred to the tragedy, and I
+had not therefore mentioned it.</p>
+
+<p>My sole object at the moment was to obtain
+possession of the empty glass and carry it with me
+from the house.</p>
+
+<p>But how could I effect this without arousing her
+suspicion?</p>
+
+<p>She had risen and stood with her back to the
+blazing fire, her pretty lips parted in a sweet smile.
+We were discussing a play at which she had been
+on the previous evening, a comedy that had taken
+the town by storm.</p>
+
+<p>Her golden bangles jingled as she moved&mdash;that
+same light metallic sound I had heard in the darkness
+of the staircase at Harrington Gardens. My
+eager fingers itched to obtain possession of that
+glass which stood so tantalisingly within a couple
+of feet of my hand. By its means I could establish
+the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Teddy," my beloved said at last, as she
+glanced at the chiming clock upon the mantelshelf.
+"It's past eleven, so I suppose I must go to bed.
+Mallock is always in a bad temper if I keep her up
+after eleven."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose that is only natural," I laughed.
+"She often waits hours and hours for you. That
+I know."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she sighed. "But Mallock is really a
+model maid. So much better than Rayne."</p>
+
+<p>Personally, I did not like the woman Mallock.
+She was a thin-nosed, angular person, who wore
+pince-nez, and was of a decidedly inquisitive
+disposition. But I, of course, had never shown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+any antagonism towards her; indeed, I considered
+it diplomatic to treat her with tact and consideration.
+She had been maid to the oldest daughter of a well-known
+and popular countess before entering Phrida's
+service, and I could well imagine that her principal
+topic of conversation in the servants' hall was the
+superiority of her late mistress, whose service she
+had left on her marriage to a wealthy peer.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad she is an improvement upon Rayne,"
+I said, for want of something else to say, and, rising,
+I took her little hand and pressed it to my lips
+in farewell.</p>
+
+<p>When she had kissed me I said:</p>
+
+<p>"I'll just finish my cigarette, and I can let
+myself out."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. But look in to-morrow, dear, won't
+you?" she replied, as I opened the door for her
+to pass. "Better still, I'll ring you up about
+three o'clock and see what you are doing. Oh!
+by the way, mother wants to remind you of your
+promise to dine with us on Wednesday night. I
+quite forgot. Of course you will&mdash;eight o'clock
+as usual."</p>
+
+<p>"Wednesday!" I exclaimed vaguely, recollecting
+the acceptance of Mrs. Shand's invitation about a
+week previously. "What date is that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, the fourteenth."</p>
+
+<p>"The fourteenth!" I echoed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, why? Really, you look quite scared,
+Freddy. What's the matter. Is anything terrible
+going to happen on that date?" she asked, looking
+at me with some concern.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to happen&mdash;why?" I asked, striving
+to calm myself.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;well, because you look so horribly pale.
+When I told you the date you gave quite a jump!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A jump? Did I?" I asked, striving to remain
+calm. "I didn't know, but, really, I'm filled with
+great disappointment. I'm so sorry, but it will be
+quite impossible for me to dine with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Another engagement?" she said in a rather
+irritated tone. "Going to some people whom
+you like better than us, of course. You might
+tell the truth, Teddy."</p>
+
+<p>"The truth is that I have a prior engagement,"
+I said. "One that I cannot break. I have to fulfill
+faithfully a promise I gave to a very dear friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't you do it some other time?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," I answered. "Only on the evening of
+the fourteenth."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you can't come to us?" she asked with
+a pout.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll look in after," I promised. "But to dine is
+entirely out of the question."</p>
+
+<p>I saw that she was annoyed, but next moment
+her lips parted again in a pretty smile, and she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, then. But remember, you will not
+be later than ten, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I promise not to be, dearest," I answered,
+and kissing her, she ascended to her room.</p>
+
+<p>The fourteenth! It was on that evening I
+had to carry out the promise made to Digby and
+meet the mysterious lady at the Piccadilly Circus
+Tube Station&mdash;the person whose initials were
+"E. P. K." and who would wear in her breast a
+spray of mimosa.</p>
+
+<p>I returned to the library, and for a second stood
+thinking deeply. Would I, by that romantic
+meeting, be placed in possession of some further
+fact which might throw light upon the mystery?
+Ah! would I, I wondered?</p>
+
+<p>The empty glass caught my eye, and I was about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+to cross and secure it when Bain suddenly entered.
+Seeing me, he drew back quickly, saying: "I
+beg pardon, sir. I thought you had gone. Will
+you take anything more, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not to-night, Bain," was my reply.</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon the old servant glanced around for
+the missing glass, and I saw with heart-sinking
+that he placed it upon the tray to carry it back
+to the servants' quarters.</p>
+
+<p>The link which I had been so careful in preparing
+was already vanishing from my gaze, when of
+a sudden I said:</p>
+
+<p>"I'll change my mind, Bain. I wonder if you
+have a lemon in the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go to the kitchen and see if cook has one,
+sir," replied the old man, who, placing down the
+tray, left to do my bidding.</p>
+
+<p>In an instant I sprang forward and seized the
+empty tumbler, handling it carefully. Swiftly,
+I tore a piece off the evening paper, and wrapping it
+around the glass, placed it in the pocket of my
+dinner jacket.</p>
+
+<p>Then, going into the hall, I put on my overcoat
+and hat, and awaited Bain's return.</p>
+
+<p>"I shan't want that lemon!" I cried to him as
+he came up from the lower regions. "Good-night,
+Bain!" and a few moments later I was in a taxi
+speeding towards Albemarle Street, with the
+evidence I wanted safe in my keeping.</p>
+
+<p>That finger-prints remained on the polished surface
+of the glass I knew full well&mdash;the prints of my
+beloved's fingers.</p>
+
+<p>But would they turn out to be the same as the
+fingers which had rested upon the glass-topped
+specimen-table in Digby's room?</p>
+
+<p>Opening the door with my latch-key, I dashed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>
+upstairs, eager to put my evidence to the proof
+by means of the finely-powdered green chalk I had
+already secured&mdash;the same as that used by the
+police.</p>
+
+<p>But on the threshold of my chambers Haines
+met me with a message&mdash;a message which caused
+me to halt breathless and staggered.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>CONTAINS FURTHER EVIDENCE.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2">"<span class="smcap">Sir Digby Kemsley</span> was here an hour ago, sir.
+He couldn't wait!" Haines exclaimed, bringing
+himself to attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Digby!" I gasped, starting. "Why, in
+heaven's name, didn't you ring me up at Mrs.
+Shand's?" I cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Because he wouldn't allow me, sir. He came
+to see you in strictest secrecy, sir. When I opened
+the door I didn't know him. He's shaved off his
+beard and moustache, and was dressed like a
+clergyman."</p>
+
+<p>"A clergyman!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. He looked just like a parson.
+I wouldn't have known him in the street."</p>
+
+<p>"An excellent ruse!" I exclaimed. "Of course,
+Haines, you know that&mdash;well&mdash;that the police are
+looking for him&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly well, but you can trust me, sir. I'll
+say nothing. Sir Digby's a friend of yours."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a great friend, and I feel that he's falsely
+accused of that terrible affair which happened at his
+flat," I said. "Did he promise to call again?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He scribbled this note for you," Haines said,
+taking up a letter from my blotting-pad.</p>
+
+<p>With trembling fingers I tore it open, and upon
+a sheet of my own notepaper read the hurriedly
+written words&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Sorry you were out. Wanted to see you
+most urgently. Keep your promise at Piccadilly
+Circus, and know nothing concerning me. My
+movements are most uncertain, as something
+amazing has occurred which prevents me making
+explanation. I will, however, send you my
+address in secret as soon as I have one. I trust
+you, Teddy, for you are my only friend.</p>
+
+<p class="ralign smcap" style="padding-right:2em;">"Digby."</p></div>
+
+<p>I read the note several times, and gathered that
+he was in hourly fear of arrest. Every corner
+held for him a grave danger. Yet what could have
+occurred that was so amazing and which prevented
+him speaking the truth.</p>
+
+<p>That I had not been in when he called was truly
+unfortunate. But by the fact that he was in clerical
+attire I surmised that he was living in obscurity&mdash;perhaps
+somewhere in the suburbs. London
+is the safest city in the world in which to hide,
+unless, of course, creditors or plaintiffs make it
+necessary to seek peace "beyond the jurisdiction
+of the Court."</p>
+
+<p>Many a good man is driven to the latter course
+through no fault of his own, but by the inexorable
+demands of the Commissioners of Income Tax, or by
+undue pressure from antagonistic creditors. Every
+English colony on the Continent contains some who
+have fallen victims&mdash;good, honest Englishmen&mdash;who
+are dragging out the remainder of their lives<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
+in obscurity, men whose names are perhaps household
+words, but who conceal them beneath one
+assumed.</p>
+
+<p>Digby would probably join the throng of the
+exiled. So I could do naught else than wait for
+his promised message, even though I was frantic
+in my anxiety to see and to question him regarding
+the reason of the presence of my well-beloved
+at his flat on that fatal night.</p>
+
+<p>Imagine my bitter chagrin that I had not been
+present to receive him! It might be many months
+before I heard from him again, for his promise was
+surely very vague.</p>
+
+<p>Presently I took the glass very carefully from my
+pocket, unwrapped it from its paper, and locked it
+in a little cabinet in the corner of my room, until
+next morning I brought it forth, and placing it upon
+a newspaper powdered it well with the pale green
+chalk which revealed at once a number of finger-marks&mdash;mine,
+Bain's, and Phrida's.</p>
+
+<p>I am something of a photographer, as everybody
+is in these days of photo competitions. Therefore,
+I brought out my Kodak with its anastigmat lens,&mdash;a
+camera which I had carried for some years
+up and down Europe, and after considerable arrangement
+of the light, succeeded in taking a number
+of pictures. It occupied me all the morning, and
+even then I was not satisfied with the result. My
+films might, for aught I know, be hopelessly fogged.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, with infinite care, I took the glass to a
+professional photographer I knew in Bond Street,
+and he also made a number of pictures, which were
+duly developed and enlarged some hours later,
+and showed the distinctive lines and curves of
+each finger-print.</p>
+
+<p>Not until the morning of the day following was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>
+I able to take these latter to Edwards, and then
+a great difficulty presented itself. How was I
+to explain how I had obtained the prints?</p>
+
+<p>I sat for an hour smoking cigarettes furiously
+and thinking deeply.</p>
+
+<p>At last a plan presented itself, and taking a taxi
+I went down to Scotland Yard, where I had no
+difficulty in obtaining an interview in his airy,
+barely-furnished business-like room.</p>
+
+<p>"Hulloa, Mr. Royle!" he exclaimed cheerily
+as I entered. "Sit down&mdash;well, do you know
+anything more of that mysterious friend of yours&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>I did not reply. Why should I lie? Instead,
+I said:</p>
+
+<p>"I've been doing some amateur detective work.
+Have you the photographs of those finger-prints
+found on the specimen-table in Sir Digby's
+room?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course," was his prompt reply, and going
+over to a cupboard he brought out a pile of papers
+concerning the case, and from it produced a number
+of photographic prints.</p>
+
+<p>My heart stood still when I saw them. Were
+either of them exactly similar to any of those
+I carried with me? I almost feared to allow
+comparison to be made.</p>
+
+<p>Edwards, noticing my hesitation, asked in what
+quarter my efforts had been directed.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been getting some finger-prints, that's
+all," I blurted forth, and from my pocket drew the
+large envelope containing the prints.</p>
+
+<p>The detective took them across to the window
+and regarded them very closely for some time, while
+I looked eagerly over his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>The curves and lines were extremely puzzling to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
+me, unaccustomed as I was to them. Edwards,
+too, remained in silent indecision.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll send them along to Inspector Tirrell
+in the Finger-print Department," my friend said
+at last. "He's an expert, and will tell at a glance if
+any marks are the same as ours."</p>
+
+<p>Then he rang a bell, and a constable, at his instructions,
+carried all the prints to the department
+in question.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mr. Royle," exclaimed the inspector
+when the door had closed; "how did you obtain
+those prints?"</p>
+
+<p>I was ready for his question, and a lie was at
+once glibly upon my lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Digby, on the night of his disappearance,
+returned to me a small steel despatch box which he
+had borrowed some weeks before; therefore, after
+the affair, I examined it for finger-prints, with the
+result I have shown you," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! but whatever prints were upon it were
+there before the entrance of the victim to your
+friend's rooms," he exclaimed. "He gave it to
+you when you bade him good-night, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"And you carried the box home with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I repeated; in fear nevertheless, that
+my lie might in some way incriminate me. Yet how
+could I tell him of my suspicion of Phrida. That
+secret was mine&mdash;and mine alone, and, if necessary,
+I would carry it with me to the grave.</p>
+
+<p>Edwards was again silent for some minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mr. Royle, I can't see that your evidence
+helps us in the least. If there should be the same
+prints on your despatch box as we found upon
+the specimen-table, then what do they prove?&mdash;why,
+nothing. If the box had been in the room<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>
+at the time of the tragedy, then it might have given
+us an important clue, because such an object would
+probably be touched by any malefactor or assassin.
+But&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" I cried, interrupting. "Then you do
+not suspect Sir Digby, after all&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, Mr. Royle, but I did not say that
+I held no suspicion," was his quiet answer. "Yet,
+if you wish to know the actual truth, I, at present,
+am without suspicion of anyone&mdash;except of that
+second woman, the mysterious woman whose finger-prints
+we have, and who was apparently in the
+room at the same time as the unidentified victim."</p>
+
+<p>"You suspect her, then?" I asked breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not without further proof," he replied, with a
+calm, irritating smile. "I never suspect unless I
+have good grounds for doing so. At present we
+have three clear finger-prints of a woman whom
+nobody saw enter or leave, just as nobody saw the
+victim enter. Your friend Sir Digby seems to
+have held a midnight reception of persons of
+mysterious character, and with tragic result."</p>
+
+<p>"I feel sure he is no assassin," I cried.</p>
+
+<p>"It may have been a drama of jealousy&mdash;who
+knows?" said Edwards, standing erect near the
+window and gazing across at me. "Your friend,
+in any case, did not care to remain and explain
+what happened. A girl&mdash;an unknown girl&mdash;was
+struck down and killed."</p>
+
+<p>"By whom, do you think?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Mr. Royle, the identity of the assassin
+is what we are endeavouring to discover," he replied
+gravely. "We must first find this man who has
+so successfully posed as Sir Digby Kemsley. He is
+a clever and elusive scoundrel, without a doubt.
+But his portrait is already circulated both here and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>
+on the Continent. The ports are all being watched,
+while I have five of the best men I can get engaged
+on persistent inquiry. He'll try to get abroad,
+no doubt. No doubt, also, he has a banking account
+somewhere, and through that we shall eventually
+trace him. Every man entrusts his banker with
+his address. He has to, in order to obtain money."</p>
+
+<p>"Unless he draws his money out in cash and then
+goes to a tourist agency and gets a letter of credit."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, that's often done," my friend admitted.
+"The tourist agencies are of greatest use to thieves
+and forgers. They take stolen notes, change them
+into foreign money, and before the numbers can
+be circulated are off across the Channel with their
+booty. If we look for stolen notes we are nearly
+certain to find them in the hands of a tourist agency
+or a money-changer."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you anticipate that you may find my
+friend Digby through his bankers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," was his vague answer. "But as he
+is your friend, Mr. Royle, I perhaps ought not to
+tell you of the channels of information we are
+trying," he added, with a dry laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I assure you I'm entirely ignorant of his
+whereabouts," I said. "If I knew, I should
+certainly advise him to come and see you."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! you believe in his innocence, I see?"</p>
+
+<p>"I most certainly do!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well,&mdash;we shall see&mdash;we shall see," he said in
+that pessimistic tone which he so often adopted.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing about those letters&mdash;that
+letter which mentions the fountain?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. I've dismissed those as private
+correspondence regarding some love episode of
+the long ago," he replied. "They form no clue,
+and are not worth following."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At that moment the constable re-entered bearing
+the photographs.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what does Inspector Tirrell say?"
+Edwards asked quickly of the man.</p>
+
+<p>"He has examined them under the glass, sir, and
+says that they are the same prints in both sets
+of photographs&mdash;the thumb and index-finger of a
+woman&mdash;probably a young and refined woman.
+He's written a memo there, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Edwards took it quickly, and after glancing at
+it, handed it to me to read.</p>
+
+<p>It was a mere scribbled line signed with the
+initials "W. H. T.," to the effect that the same
+prints appeared in both photographs, and concluded
+with the words "No record of this person is known
+in this department."</p>
+
+<p>I know I stood pale and breathless at the revelation&mdash;at
+the incontestable proof that my well-beloved
+had actually been present in Digby's room
+after my departure on that fatal night.</p>
+
+<p>Why?</p>
+
+<p>By dint of a great effort I succeeded in suppressing
+the flood of emotions which so nearly overcame me,
+and listened to Edwards as he remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, after all, Mr. Royle, it doesn't carry us
+any further. Our one object is to discover the
+identity of the woman in question, and I think we
+can only do that from your absconding friend himself.
+If the marks are upon your despatch-box as
+you state, then the evidence it furnishes rather
+disproves the theory that the unknown woman
+was actually present at the time of the tragedy."</p>
+
+<p>I hardly know what words I uttered.</p>
+
+<p>I had successfully misled the great detective of
+crime, but as I rode along in the taxi back to my
+rooms, I was in a frenzy of despair, for I had proved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+beyond a shadow of doubt that Phrida was aware
+of what had occurred&mdash;that a black shadow of guilt
+lay upon her.</p>
+
+<p>The woman I had loved and trusted, she who was
+all the world to me, had deceived me, though she
+smiled upon me so sweetly. She, alas! held within
+her breast a guilty secret.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! in that hour of my bitterness and distress
+the sun of my life became eclipsed. Only before
+me was outspread a limitless grey sea of dark
+despair.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>DESCRIBES THE YELLOW SIGN.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">The</span> night of my mysterious tryst&mdash;the night of
+January the fourteenth&mdash;was dark, rainy, and
+unpleasant.</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon I had taken out the sealed letter
+addressed to "E. P. K." and turned it over thoughtfully
+in my hand.</p>
+
+<p>I recollected the words of the fugitive. He had
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"On the night of the fourteenth just at eight
+o'clock precisely, go to the Piccadilly Tube Station
+and stand at the first telephone box numbered four,
+on the Haymarket side, when a lady in black will
+approach you and ask news of me. In response you
+will give her this note. But there is a further
+condition. You may be watched and recognised.
+Therefore, be extremely careful that you are not
+followed on that day, and, above all, adopt some
+effective disguise. Go there dressed as a working
+man, I would suggest."</p>
+
+<p>Very strange was that request of his. It filled
+me with eager curiosity. What should I learn
+from the mysterious woman in black who was to
+come to me for a message from my fugitive friend.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Had he already contemplated flight when he had
+addressed the note to her and made the appointment,
+I wondered.</p>
+
+<p>If so, the crime at Harrington Gardens must have
+been premeditated.</p>
+
+<p>I recollected, too, those strange, prophetic
+words which my friend had afterwards uttered,
+namely:</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to give me your promise, Royle.
+I ask you to make a solemn vow to me that if
+any suspicion arises within your mind, that you
+will believe nothing without absolute and
+decisive proof. I mean, that you will not misjudge
+her."</p>
+
+<p>By "her" he had indicated the lady whose initials
+were "E. P. K."</p>
+
+<p>It was certainly mysterious, and my whole mind
+was centred upon the affair that day.</p>
+
+<p>As I stood before my glass at seven o'clock that
+evening, I presented a strange, uncanny figure,
+dressed as I was in a shabby suit which I had
+obtained during the day from a theatrical costumier's
+in Covent Garden.</p>
+
+<p>Haines, to whom I had invented a story that I was
+about to play a practical joke, stood by much
+amused at my appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir," he exclaimed; "you look just like
+a bricklayer's labourer!"</p>
+
+<p>The faded suit, frayed at the wrists and elbows,
+had once been grey, but it was now patched, brown,
+smeared with plaster, and ingrained with white
+dust, as was the ragged cap; while the trousers
+were ragged at the knees and bottoms. Around
+my neck was a dirty white scarf and in my hand
+I carried a tin tea-bottle as though I had just
+returned from work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I remarked, regarding myself critically.
+"Not even Miss Shand would recognise me&mdash;eh,
+Haines?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. I'm sure she wouldn't. But you'll
+have to dirty your face and hands a bit. Your
+hands will give you away if you're not careful."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I can't wear gloves, can I?" I remarked.</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon, I went to the grate and succeeded
+in rubbing ashes over my hands and applying some
+of it to my cheeks&mdash;hardly a pleasant face powder,
+I can assure you.</p>
+
+<p>At a quarter to eight, with the precious letter
+in the pocket of my ragged jacket, I left Albemarle
+Street and sauntered along Piccadilly towards
+the Circus. The rain had ceased, but it was wet underfoot,
+and the motor buses plashed foot passengers
+from head to foot with liquid mud. In my
+walk I passed, outside the Piccadilly Hotel, two
+men I knew. One of them looked me straight in
+the face but failed to recognise me.</p>
+
+<p>Piccadilly Circus, the centre of the night-life of
+London, is unique, with its jostling crowds on
+pleasure bent, its congestion of traffic, its myriad
+lights, its flashing, illuminated signs, and the bright
+fa&ccedil;ade of the Criterion on the one side and the
+Pavilion on the other. Surely one sees the lure of
+London there more than at any other spot in the
+whole of our great metropolis.</p>
+
+<p>Passing the Criterion and turning into the Haymarket,
+I halted for a moment on the kerb, and for
+the first time in my life, perhaps, gazed philosophically
+upon the frantic, hurrying panorama of human
+life passing before my eyes.</p>
+
+<p>From where I stood I could see into the well-lit
+station entrance with the row to the telephone boxes,
+at the end of which sat the smart young operator,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+who was getting numbers and collecting fees. All
+the boxes were engaged, and several persons were
+waiting, but in vain my eyes searched for a lady
+in black wearing mimosa.</p>
+
+<p>The winter wind was bitterly cold, and as I was
+without an overcoat it cut through my thin, shabby
+clothes, causing me to shiver. Nevertheless, I
+kept my watchful vigil. By a neighbouring clock I
+could see that it was already five minutes past the
+hour of the appointment. Still, I waited in eager
+expectation of her coming.</p>
+
+<p>The only other person who seemed to loiter
+there was a thin, shivering Oriental, who
+bore some rugs upon his shoulder&mdash;a hawker of
+shawls.</p>
+
+<p>Past me there went men and women of every
+grade and every station. Boys were crying "Extrur
+spe-shull," and evil-looking loafers, those foreign
+scoundrels who infest the West End, lurked about,
+sometimes casting a suspicious glance at me,
+with the thought, perhaps, that I might be a
+detective.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! the phantasmagora of life outside the Piccadilly
+Tube at eight o'clock in the evening is indeed
+a strangely complex one. The world of London
+has then ceased to work and has given itself over to
+pleasure, and, alas! in so many cases, to evil.</p>
+
+<p>In patience I waited. The moments seemed
+hours, for in my suspense I was dubious whether,
+after all, she would appear. Perhaps she already
+knew, by some secret means, of Sir Digby's
+flight, and if so, she would not keep the appointment.</p>
+
+<p>I strolled up and down the pavement, for a
+policeman, noticing me hanging about, had gruffly
+ordered me to "Move on!" He, perhaps, suspected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>
+me of "loitering for the purpose of committing a
+felony."</p>
+
+<p>Everywhere my eager eyes searched to catch
+sight of some person in black wearing a spray
+of yellow blossom, but among that hurrying
+crowd there was not one woman, young or
+old, wearing that flower so reminiscent of the
+Riviera.</p>
+
+<p>I entered the station, and for some moments stood
+outside the telephone box numbered 4. Then,
+with failing heart, I turned and went along to
+the spacious booking-hall, where the lifts
+were ever descending with their crowds of
+passengers.</p>
+
+<p>Would she ever come? Or, was my carefully
+planned errand entirely in vain?</p>
+
+<p>I could not have mistaken the date, for I had
+made a note of it in my diary directly on my return
+from Harrington Gardens, and before I had learned
+of the tragedy. No. It now wanted a quarter to
+nine and she had not appeared. At nine I would
+relinquish my vigil, and assume my normal identity.
+I was sick to death of lounging there in the cutting
+east wind with the smoke-blackened tin bottle in
+my hand.</p>
+
+<p>I had been idly reading an advertisement on the
+wall, and turned, when my quick eyes suddenly
+caught sight of a tall, well-dressed woman of middle
+age, who, standing with her back to me, was speaking
+to the telephone-operator.</p>
+
+<p>I hurried eagerly past her, when my heart gave
+a great bound. In the corsage of her fur-trimmed
+coat she wore the sign for which I had been searching
+for an hour&mdash;a sprig of mimosa!</p>
+
+<p>With my heart beating quickly in wild excitement,
+I drew back to watch her movements.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She had asked the operator for a number, paid
+him, and was told that she was "on" at box
+No. 4.</p>
+
+<p>I saw her enter, and watched her through the glass
+door speaking vehemently with some gesticulation.
+The answer she received over the wire seemed to
+cause her the greatest surprise, for I saw how her
+dark, handsome face fell when she heard the
+response.</p>
+
+<p>In a second her manner changed. From a bold,
+commanding attitude she at once became apprehensive
+and appealing. Though I could not hear
+the words amid all that hubbub and noise, I knew
+that she was begging the person at the other end
+to tell her something, but was being met with a
+flat refusal.</p>
+
+<p>I saw how the black-gloved hand, resting upon the
+little ledge, clenched itself tightly as she listened.
+I fancied that tears had come into her big,
+dark eyes, but perhaps it was only my imagination.</p>
+
+<p>At last she put down the receiver and emerged
+from the box, with a strange look of despair upon
+her handsome countenance.</p>
+
+<p>What, I wondered, had happened?</p>
+
+<p>She halted outside the box for a moment, gazing
+about her as though in expectation of meeting
+someone. She saw me, but seeing only a labourer,
+took no heed of my presence. Then she glanced at
+the tiny gold watch in her bracelet, and noting that
+it was just upon nine, drew a long breath&mdash;a sigh
+as though of despair.</p>
+
+<p>I waited until she slowly walked out towards
+the street, and following, came up beside her and
+said in a low voice:</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder, madame, if you are looking for me?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She glanced at me quickly, with distinct suspicion,
+and noting my dress, regarded me with some
+disdain.</p>
+
+<p>Her dark brows were knit for a second in distinct
+displeasure, even of apprehension, and then in
+an instant I recollected my friend's injunction
+that I might be watched and followed. In giving
+her the message the greatest secrecy was to be
+observed.</p>
+
+<p>She halted, as though in hesitation, took from her
+bag a tiny lace handkerchief and dabbed her face,
+then beneath her breath, and without glancing
+further at me, said:</p>
+
+<p>"Follow me, and I will speak to you presently&mdash;when
+there is no danger."</p>
+
+<p>Upon that I moved away and leisurely lit my
+pipe, as though entirely unconcerned, while she
+still stood in the doorway leading to the Haymarket,
+looking up and down as though awaiting
+somebody.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, she was a distinctly handsome woman;
+tall, erect, and well preserved. Her gown fitted
+her perfectly, and her black jacket, trimmed with
+some rich dark fur, was a garment which gave her
+the stamp of a woman of wealth and refinement.
+She wore a neat felt hat also trimmed with fur, white
+gloves, and smart shoes, extremely small, even
+girlish, for a woman so well developed.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she sauntered forth down the Haymarket,
+and a few moments afterwards, still
+smoking and carrying my bottle, I lounged lazily
+after her.</p>
+
+<p>At the corner, by the Carlton, she turned into
+Pall Mall, continuing along that thoroughfare
+without once looking back. Opposite the United
+Service Club she crossed the road, and passing across<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
+the square in front of the Athen&aelig;um, descended the
+long flight of steps which led into the Mall.</p>
+
+<p>There in the darkness, beneath the trees, where
+there were no onlookers&mdash;for at that hour the Mall
+is practically deserted, save for a few loving couples
+and a stray taxi or two&mdash;she suddenly paused, and
+I quickly approached and raised my cap politely.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" she asked sharply, almost in a tone
+of annoyance. "What is it? What do you want
+with me, my man?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>CHERCHEZ LA FEMME.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">I confess</span> that her attitude took me aback.</p>
+
+<p>I was certainly unprepared for such a reception.</p>
+
+<p>"I believed, madame, that you were in search of
+me?" I said, with polite apology.</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly was not. I don't know you in the
+least," was her reply. "I went to the Tube to meet
+a friend who did not keep his appointment. Is
+it possible that you have been sent by him? In
+any case, it was very injudicious for you to approach
+me in that crowd. One never knows who might
+have been watching."</p>
+
+<p>"I come as messenger from my friend, Sir Digby
+Kemsley," I said in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"From him?" she gasped eagerly. "I&mdash;ah!
+I expected him. Is he prevented from coming?
+It was so very important, so highly essential, that
+we should meet," she added in frantic anxiety
+as we stood there in the darkness beneath the
+bare trees, through the branches of which the wind
+whistled weirdly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have this letter," I said, drawing it from
+my pocket. "It is addressed 'For E. P. K.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"For me?" she cried with eagerness, as she took it
+in her gloved hand, and then leaving my side she
+hurried to a street lamp, where she tore it open and
+read the contents.</p>
+
+<p>From where I stood I heard her utter an ejaculation
+of sudden terror. I saw how she crushed
+the paper in one hand while with the other she
+pressed her brow. Whatever the letter contained
+it was news which caused her the greatest apprehension
+and fear, for dashing back to me she
+asked:</p>
+
+<p>"When did he give you this? How long
+ago?"</p>
+
+<p>"On the night of January the sixth," was
+my reply. "The night when he left Harrington
+Gardens in mysterious circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"Mysterious circumstances!" she echoed.
+"What do you mean? Is he no longer there?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, madame. He has left, and though I am,
+perhaps, his most intimate friend, I am unaware
+of his whereabouts. There were," I added, "reasons,
+I fear, for his disappearance."</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you? Tell me, first."</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Edward Royle," was my brief
+response.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Mr. Royle," the woman cried, "he
+has spoken of you many times. You were his best
+friend, he said. I am glad, indeed, to meet you,
+but&mdash;but tell me why he has disappeared&mdash;what has
+occurred?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you would probably know that
+my friend is wanted by the police," I replied gravely.
+"His description has been circulated everywhere."</p>
+
+<p>"But why?" she gasped, staring at me. "Why
+are the police in search of him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For a few seconds I hesitated, disinclined to
+repeat the grave charge against him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," I said at last in a low, earnest voice,
+"the fact is the police have discovered that
+Sir Digby Kemsley died in South America some
+months ago."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't follow you," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will be more plain. The police, having
+had a report of the death of Sir Digby, believe our
+mutual friend to be an impostor!"</p>
+
+<p>"An impostor! How utterly ridiculous. Why,
+I myself can prove his identity. The dead man
+must have been some adventurer who used his
+name."</p>
+
+<p>"That is a point which I hope with your assistance
+to prove," I said. "The police at present
+regard our friend with distinct suspicion."</p>
+
+<p>"And I suppose his worst enemy has made
+some serious allegation against him&mdash;that woman
+who hates him so. Ah! I see it all now. I see
+why he has written this to me&mdash;this confession
+which astounds me. Ah! Mr. Royle," she added,
+her gloved hands tightly clenched in her despair.
+"You do not know in what deadly peril Sir Digby
+now is. Yes, I see it plainly. There is a charge
+against him&mdash;a grave and terrible charge&mdash;which
+he is unable to refute, and yet he is perfectly
+innocent. Oh, what can I do? How can I act
+to save him?" and her voice became broken by
+emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"First tell me the name of this woman who was
+such a deadly enemy of his. If you reveal this to me,
+I may be able to throw some light upon circumstances
+which are at the present moment a complete
+mystery."</p>
+
+<p>"No, that is his secret," was her low, calm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+reply. "He made me swear never to reveal the
+woman's name."</p>
+
+<p>"But his honour&mdash;nay, his liberty&mdash;is now at
+stake," I urged.</p>
+
+<p>"That does not exonerate me from breaking my
+word of honour, Mr. Royle."</p>
+
+<p>"Then he probably entertains affection for the
+woman, and is hence loth to do anything which
+might cause her pain. Strangely enough, men often
+love women whom they know are their bitterest
+enemies."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so. But the present case is full of strange
+and romantic facts&mdash;facts, which if written down,
+would never be believed. I know many of them
+myself, and can vouch for them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, is this unnamed woman a very vengeful
+person?" I asked, remembering the victim who
+had been found dead at Harrington Gardens.</p>
+
+<p>"Probably so. All women, when they hate
+a man, are vengeful."</p>
+
+<p>"Why did she hate him so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because she believed a story told of him&mdash;an
+entirely false story&mdash;of how he had treated
+the man she loved. I taxed him with it, and he
+denied it, and brought me conclusive proof that
+the allegation was a pure invention."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she young or middle-aged?"</p>
+
+<p>"Young, and distinctly pretty," was her reply.</p>
+
+<p>Was it possible that this woman was speaking of
+that girl whom I had seen lying dead in my friend's
+flat? Had he killed her because he feared what
+she might reveal? How dearly I wished that
+I had with me at that moment a copy of
+the police photographs of the unidentified
+body.</p>
+
+<p>But even then she would probably declare it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>
+not to be the same person, so deeply had Sir Digby
+impressed upon her the necessity of regarding the
+affair as strictly secret.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, as I walked slowly at her side, I saw that,
+whatever the note contained, it certainly had
+the effect upon her of preserving her silence.</p>
+
+<p>In that case, could the crime have been premeditated
+by my friend? Had he written her
+that secret message well knowing that he intended
+to kill the mysterious woman who was his deadliest
+enemy.</p>
+
+<p>That theory flashed across my brain as I walked
+with her, and I believed it to be the correct one.
+I accepted it the more readily because it removed
+from my mind those dark suspicions concerning
+Phrida, and, also, in face of facts which this
+unknown lady had dropped, it seemed to be
+entirely feasible.</p>
+
+<p>Either the unsuspecting woman fell by the hand
+of Digby Kemsley or&mdash;how can I pen the words&mdash;by
+the hand of Phrida, the woman I loved. There
+was the evidence that a knife with a triangular
+blade had been used, and such a knife had been,
+and was still, in the possession of my well-beloved;
+but from what I had learned that night it seemed
+that, little as I had dreamed the truth, my friend
+Digby had been held in bondage by a woman, whose
+tongue he feared.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! How very many men in London are the
+slaves of women whom they fear. All of us are
+human, and the woman with evil heart is, alas!
+only too ready to seize the opportunity of the frailty
+of the opposite sex, and whatever may be the
+secret she learns, of business or of private
+life, she will most certainly turn it to her
+advantage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was similar circumstances I feared in the
+case of dear old Digby.</p>
+
+<p>I was wondering, as I walked, whether I should
+reveal to my companion&mdash;whose name she had
+told me was Mrs. Petre&mdash;the whole of the tragic
+circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it long ago since you last saw Digby?"
+I asked her presently, as we strolled slowly together,
+and after I had given her my address, and we
+had laughed together over my effective
+disguise.</p>
+
+<p>"Nearly two months," she replied. "I've been
+in Egypt since the beginning of November&mdash;at
+Assuan."</p>
+
+<p>"I was there two seasons ago," I said. "How
+delightful it is in Upper Egypt&mdash;and what a climate
+in winter! Why, it is said that it has never rained
+there for thirty years!"</p>
+
+<p>"I had a most awfully jolly time at the Cataract.
+It was full of smart people, for only the suburbs,
+the demi-monde, and Germans go to the Riviera
+nowadays. It's so terribly played out, and the
+Carnival gaiety is so childish and artificial."</p>
+
+<p>"It amuses the Cookites," I laughed; "and it
+puts money in the pockets of the hotel-keepers of
+Nice and the neighbourhood."</p>
+
+<p>"Monte is no longer <i>chic</i>," she declared. "German
+women in blouses predominate; and the really
+smart world has forsaken the Rooms for Cairo,
+Heliopolis, and Assuan. They are too far off
+and too expensive for the bearer of Cook's
+coupons."</p>
+
+<p>I laughed. She spoke with the nonchalant air
+of the smart woman of the world, evidently much
+travelled and cosmopolitan.</p>
+
+<p>But I again turned the conversation to our mutual<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>
+friend, and strove with all the diplomatic powers
+I possessed to induce her to reveal the name or
+give me a description of the woman whom she
+had alleged to be his enemy&mdash;the woman who was
+under a delusion that he had wronged her lover.
+To all my questions, however, she remained
+dumb. That letter which I had placed in her
+hand had, no doubt, put a seal of silence upon
+her lips.</p>
+
+<p>At one moment she assumed a haughtiness of
+demeanour which suited her manner and bearing,
+at the next she became sympathetic and eager.
+She was, I gauged, a woman of strangely complex
+character. Yet whom could she be? I knew most,
+perhaps even all, of Digby's friends, I believed. He
+often used to give cosy little tea parties, to which
+women&mdash;many of them well known in society&mdash;came.
+Towards them he always assumed quite
+a paternal attitude, for he was nothing if not a
+ladies' man.</p>
+
+<p>She seemed very anxious to know in what
+circumstances he had handed me the note, and
+what instructions he had given me. To her
+questions I replied quite frankly. Indeed, I
+repeated his words.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! yes," she cried. "He urged you not
+to misjudge me. Then you will not, Mr.
+Royle&mdash;will you?" she asked me with sudden
+earnestness.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no reason to misjudge you, Mrs. Petre,"
+I said, quietly. "Why should I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! but you may. Indeed, you most certainly
+will."</p>
+
+<p>"When?" I asked, in some surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"When&mdash;when you know the bitter truth."</p>
+
+<p>"The truth of what?" I gasped, my thoughts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>
+reverting to the tragedy in Harrington Gardens.
+Though I had not referred to it I felt that she must
+be aware of what had occurred, and of the real
+reason of Digby's flight.</p>
+
+<p>"The truth which you must know ere long,"
+she answered hoarsely as we halted again beneath
+the leafless trees. "And when you learn it you
+will most certainly condemn me. But believe me,
+Mr. Royle, I am like your friend, Sir Digby, more
+sinned against than sinning."</p>
+
+<p>"You speak in enigmas," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I cannot&mdash;I dare not tell you what
+I know. I dare not reveal the terrible and
+astounding secret entrusted to me. You will know
+it all soon enough. But&mdash;there," she added in
+a voice broken in despair, "what can matter
+now that Digby has shown the white feather&mdash;and
+fled."</p>
+
+<p>"He was not a coward, Mrs. Petre," I remarked
+very calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"No. He was a brave and honest man
+until&mdash;&mdash;" and she paused, her low voice fading
+to a whisper that I did not catch.</p>
+
+<p>"Until what?" I asked. "Did something
+happen?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it did," she replied in a hard, dry tone.
+"Something happened which changed his
+life."</p>
+
+<p>"Then he is not the impostor the police believe?"
+I demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not," was her prompt reply. "Why
+he has thought fit to disappear fills me with anger.
+And yet&mdash;yet from this letter he has sent to me
+I can now see the reason. He was, no doubt, compelled
+to fly, poor fellow. His enemy forced him
+to do so."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The woman&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the woman," she admitted, bitter hatred
+in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>Then, after a pause, I said: "If I can be of
+any service to you, Mrs. Petre, for we are both
+friends of Digby's, I trust you will not fail to
+command me."</p>
+
+<p>And I handed her a card from my case, which
+I had carried expressly.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very kind, Mr. Royle," she replied.
+"Perhaps I may be very glad of your services
+one day. Who knows? I live at Park Mansions."</p>
+
+<p>"And may I call?"</p>
+
+<p>"For the present, no. I let my flat while I went
+abroad, and it is still occupied for several weeks.
+I shall not be there before the first week in
+March."</p>
+
+<p>"But I want to find Digby&mdash;I want to see him
+most urgently," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"And so do I!"</p>
+
+<p>"How can we trace him?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I am afraid he is far too elusive. If he
+wishes to hide himself we need not hope to find
+him until he allows us to," she replied. "No, all
+we can do is to remain patient and hopeful."</p>
+
+<p>Again a silence fell between us. I felt instinctively
+that she wished to confide in me, but dare
+not do so.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore I exclaimed suddenly:</p>
+
+<p>"Will you not tell me, Mrs. Petre, the identity of
+this great enemy of our friend&mdash;this woman?
+Upon information which you yourself may give,
+Digby's future entirely depends," I added
+earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"His future!" she echoed. "What do you
+mean?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I mean only that I am trying to clear his good
+name of the stigma now resting upon it."</p>
+
+<p>The handsome woman bit her lip.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she replied with a great effort. "I'm
+sorry&mdash;deeply sorry&mdash;but I am now in a most
+embarrassing position. I have made a vow to him,
+and that vow I cannot break without first obtaining
+his permission. I am upon my honour."</p>
+
+<p>I was silent. What could I say?</p>
+
+<p>This woman certainly knew something&mdash;something
+which, if revealed, would place me in possession
+of the truth of what had actually occurred
+at Harrington Gardens on that fatal night. If
+she spoke she might clear Phrida of all
+suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, after a pause, I made up my mind
+to try and clear up one point&mdash;that serious, crucial
+point which had for days so obsessed me.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Petre," I said, "I wonder if you will
+answer me a single question, one which does not
+really affect the situation much. Indeed, as we are,
+I hope, friends, I ask it more out of curiosity than
+anything else."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what is it?" she asked, regarding me
+strangely.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to know whether, being a friend of
+Digby's, you have ever met or ever heard of a
+certain young lady living in Kensington named
+Phrida Shand."</p>
+
+<p>The effect of my words was almost electrical.
+She sprung towards me, with fire in her big,
+dark eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Phrida Shand!" she cried wildly, her white-gloved
+hands again clenched. "Phrida Shand!
+You know that woman, eh? You know her, Mr.
+Royle. Is she a friend of yours?&mdash;or&mdash;or is she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
+your enemy? Your friend, perhaps, because she
+is pretty. Oh, yes!" she laughed, hysterically.
+"Oh, yes! Of course, she is your friend. If she
+is&mdash;then curse her, Mr. Royle&mdash;invoke all the curses
+of hell upon her, as she so richly deserves!"</p>
+
+<p>And from her lips came a peal of laughter that
+was little short of demoniacal, while I stood glaring
+at her in blank dismay.</p>
+
+<p>What did she mean? Aye, what, indeed?</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN WHICH AN ALLEGATION IS MADE.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">I stood</span> aghast at her words.</p>
+
+<p>I strove to induce her to speak more openly,
+and to tell me why I should not regard Phrida
+as my friend.</p>
+
+<p>But she only laughed mysteriously, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Wait, and you will see."</p>
+
+<p>"You make a distinct charge against her, therefore
+I think you ought to substantiate it," I said
+in a tone of distinct annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Mr. Royle. Heed my words, I beg of
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"But, tell me, is Miss Shand the same person
+as you have denounced as Digby's enemy?" I
+asked in breathless apprehension. "Surely you
+will tell me, Mrs. Petre, now that we are
+friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! but are we friends?" she asked, looking
+at me strangely beneath the light of the street-lamp
+in that deserted thoroughfare, where all
+was silence save the distant hum of the traffic.
+The dark trees above stood out distinct against
+the dull red night-glare of London, as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+mysterious woman stood before me uttering that
+query.</p>
+
+<p>"Because we are mutual friends of Sir Digby's.
+I hope I may call you a friend," I replied, as calmly
+as I was able.</p>
+
+<p>She paused for a moment in indecision. Then
+she said:</p>
+
+<p>"You admit that you are friendly with the girl
+Shand&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"More than friendly, I wonder?" she asked in
+a sharp tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;I'll be perfectly frank," was my answer.
+"I am engaged to be married to her."</p>
+
+<p>"Married," she gasped, "to her! Are you mad,
+Mr. Royle?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think not," I answered, greatly surprised at her
+sudden attitude. "Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because&mdash;because," she replied in a low,
+earnest voice, scarce above a whisper, "because,
+before you take such a step make further
+inquiry."</p>
+
+<p>"Inquiry about what?" I demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"About&mdash;well, about what has occurred at
+Harrington Gardens."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you know!" I cried. "You know the
+truth, Mrs. Petre?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," she replied quite calmly. "I know
+from this letter what must have occurred there.
+But who killed the girl I cannot say."</p>
+
+<p>"Who was the girl they found dead?" I asked
+breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! How can I tell? I did not see
+her."</p>
+
+<p>In a few quick words I described the deceased,
+but either she did not recognise her from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
+description, or she refused to tell me. In any case,
+she declared herself in ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>The situation was galling and tantalising. I
+was so near discovering the truth, and yet my
+inquiries had only plunged me more deeply into
+a quagmire of suspicion and horror. The more I
+tried to extricate myself the deeper I sank.</p>
+
+<p>"But whoever the poor girl may have been,
+you still maintain that Phrida Shand was Digby's
+most deadly enemy?" I asked quickly, setting a
+trap for her.</p>
+
+<p>I took her unawares, and she fell into it.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," was her prompt response. An instant
+later, however, realising how she had been led to
+make an allegation which she had not intended,
+she hastened to correct herself, saying: "Ah, no!
+Of course, I do not allege that. I&mdash;I only
+know that Digby was acquainted with her, and
+that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" I asked slowly, when she
+paused.</p>
+
+<p>"That&mdash;that he regretted the acquaintanceship."</p>
+
+<p>"Regretted? Why?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman shrugged her shoulders. All along
+she had been cognisant of the tragedy, yet with
+her innate cleverness she had not admitted her
+knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>"A man often regrets his friendship with a
+woman," she said, with a mysterious air.</p>
+
+<p>"What!" I cried fiercely. "Do you make
+an insinuation that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Mr. Royle," she laughed, "I make
+no insinuation. It was you who have endeavoured
+to compel me to condemn her as Digby's enemy.
+You yourself suggested it!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But you have told me that his fiercest and
+most bitter enemy was a woman!"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. But I have not told you that
+woman's name, nor do I intend to break my vow
+of secrecy to Digby&mdash;fugitive that he may be at
+this moment. Yet, depend upon it, he will return
+and crush his enemies in the dust."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope he will," was my fervent reply. "Yet
+I love Phrida Shand, and upon her there rests a
+terrible cloud of suspicion."</p>
+
+<p>She was silent for a moment, still standing
+beneath the lamp, gazing at me with those big,
+dark eyes.</p>
+
+<p>At last she said:</p>
+
+<p>"The way out is quite easy."</p>
+
+<p>"How?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you have any regard for your future put
+your love aside," was her hard response.</p>
+
+<p>"You hate her!" I said, knitting my brows, yet
+recollecting the proof I had secured of her presence
+in Digby's flat.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," was her prompt response. "I hate her&mdash;I
+have cause to hate her!"</p>
+
+<p>"What cause?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is my own affair, Mr. Royle&mdash;my own
+secret. Find Digby, and he will, no doubt, tell
+you the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"The truth concerning Phrida?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"But he knew I was engaged to her! Why
+did he not speak?"</p>
+
+<p>"And expose her secret?" she asked.
+"Would he have acted as a gentleman had he
+done so? Does a man so lightly betray a woman's
+honour?"</p>
+
+<p>"A woman's honour!" I gasped, staring at her,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>
+staggered as though she had struck me a blow.
+"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean nothing," was her cold reply. "Take
+it as you may, Mr. Royle, only be warned."</p>
+
+<p>"But if Digby knew that she was worthless,
+he would surely have made some remark to arouse
+my suspicion?" I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should he?" she queried. "A true
+gentleman does not usually expose a woman's
+secret."</p>
+
+<p>I saw her point, and my heart sank within me.
+Were these scandalous allegations of hers based
+upon truth, or was she actuated by ill-feeling,
+perhaps, indeed, of jealousy?</p>
+
+<p>We walked on again slowly until we reached St.
+James's Palace, and passed out into the end of
+Pall Mall, where it joined St. James's Street. Yet
+her attitude was one of complete mystery. I was
+uncertain whether the admission she had so
+unconsciously made regarding Phrida&mdash;that she
+was Digby's worst enemy&mdash;was the actual truth
+or not.</p>
+
+<p>One thing was plain. This Mrs. Petre was a
+clever, far-seeing woman of the world, who had
+with great ingenuity held from me her knowledge of
+the crime.</p>
+
+<p>A problem was, therefore, presented to me. By
+what means could she be aware of it? First, she
+had expected to meet Digby that evening;
+secondly, the letter I had brought was
+written before the assassination of the unknown
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>How could she have obtained knowledge of
+the affair if it were not premeditated and
+hinted at in the letter I had so faithfully
+delivered?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Half way up St. James's Street my companion
+suddenly exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"I must be going! Would you please hail me
+a taxi, Mr. Royle?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will&mdash;when you have answered my question,"
+I said, with great politeness.</p>
+
+<p>"I have already replied to it," was her response.
+"You love Phrida Shand, but if you have any
+self-respect, any regard for your future, break off
+Whatever infatuation she has exercised over you.
+If you are Digby's friend, you will be a man, and
+act as such!"</p>
+
+<p>"I really don't follow you," I said, bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps not. But surely my words are plain
+enough!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is she the enemy of Digby, of whom you
+have spoken?"</p>
+
+<p>"That question I am not permitted to answer."</p>
+
+<p>I was silent a few seconds. Then I asked
+earnestly:</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me openly and frankly, Mrs. Petre. Is
+she the person you suspect of having committed
+the crime?"</p>
+
+<p>She gave vent to a short dry laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Mr. Royle," she exclaimed, "you
+put to me the most difficult riddles. How can I
+possibly suspect anyone of a crime of which I know
+nothing, and of which even the papers appear
+to be in ignorance?"</p>
+
+<p>"But you are not in ignorance," I said. "How,
+pray, did you learn that a tragedy had
+occurred?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" she laughed. "That is my secret.
+You were very careful not to tell me the true cause
+of poor Digby's flight. Yes, Mr. Royle, I congratulate
+you upon your ingenuity in protecting the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>
+honour of your friend. Rest assured he will not
+forget the great services you have already rendered
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"I look for no reward. He was my friend,"
+was my reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Then, if he was your friend and you are
+still his, heed my warning concerning Phrida
+Shand."</p>
+
+<p>"But tell me what you know?" I cried, clutching
+her arm as we walked together. "You don't understand
+that you are making allegations&mdash;terrible
+allegations&mdash;against the woman I love dearest in
+all the world. You have made an assertion, and
+I demand that you shall substantiate it," I added in
+frantic anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>She shook off my hand angrily, declaring that
+nothing more need be said, and adding that if I
+refused to heed her, then the peril would be
+mine.</p>
+
+<p>"But you shall not leave me until you have
+furnished me with proof of these perfidious actions
+of my love!" I declared vehemently.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Royle, we really cannot use high words
+in the public street," she replied in a low tone of
+reproof. "I am sorry that I am not permitted
+to say more."</p>
+
+<p>"But you shall!" I persisted. "Tell me&mdash;what
+do you know? Is Digby the real Sir Digby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course he is!"</p>
+
+<p>"And what are his exact relations with
+Phrida?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" she laughed. "You had better ask
+her yourself, Mr. Royle. She will, no doubt, tell you.
+Of course, she will&mdash;well, if you are to marry her.
+But there, I see that you are not quite responsible
+for your words this evening. It is, perhaps,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>
+natural in the circumstances; therefore I will forgive
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Natural!" I echoed. "I should think it is
+natural that I should resent such dastardly
+allegations when made against the woman I
+love."</p>
+
+<p>"All I repeat is&mdash;go and ask her for yourself,"
+was the woman's quiet response as she drew herself
+up, and pulled her fur more closely about her
+throat. "I really can't be seen here talking with
+you in that garb," she added.</p>
+
+<p>"But you must tell me," I persisted.</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you no more than I have done. The
+girl you love will tell you everything, or&mdash;at least,
+if you have a grain of ingenuity, as you no
+doubt have&mdash;you will find out everything for
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not another word, please, Mr. Royle&mdash;not
+to-night. If after making inquiry into the
+matter you care to come and see me when I am back
+in Park Mansions, I shall be very happy to receive
+you. By that time, however, I hope we shall have
+had news of poor Digby's whereabouts."</p>
+
+<p>"If I hear from him&mdash;as I expect to&mdash;how can I
+communicate with you?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>For a few seconds she stood wondering.</p>
+
+<p>"Write to me to Park Mansions," she replied.
+"My letters are always forwarded."</p>
+
+<p>And raising her umbrella she herself hailed a
+passing taxi.</p>
+
+<p>"Remember my warning," were her final words
+as she gave the man an address in Regent's Park,
+and entered the conveyance. "Go and see Phrida
+Shand at once and tell her what I have said."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"May I mention your name?" I asked hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied. "Good-night."</p>
+
+<p>And a moment later I was gazing at the red back-lamp
+of the taxi, while soon afterwards I again
+caught a glimpse of the same lonely seller of shawls
+whom I had seen at the Tube station, trudging
+wearily homeward, there being no business doing
+at that hour of the evening.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>PHRIDA MAKES CONFESSION.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">I sat</span> in my rooms in Albemarle Street utterly
+bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>My meeting with the mysterious woman who wore
+the spray of mimosa had, instead of assisting to
+clear up the mystery, increased it a hundredfold.</p>
+
+<p>The grave suspicions I had entertained of Phrida
+had been corroborated by her strangely direct insinuations
+and her suggestion that I should go to
+her and tell her plainly what had been alleged.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, after a sleepless night, I went to
+Cromwell Road next morning, determined to know
+the truth. You can well imagine my state of
+mind when I entered Mrs. Shand's pretty morning-room,
+where great bowls of daffodils lent colour
+to the otherwise rather dull apartment.</p>
+
+<p>Phrida entered, gay, fresh, and charming, in a
+dark skirt and white blouse, having just risen
+from breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Teddy," she laughed, "you ought to
+be awarded a prize for early rising. I fear I'm
+horribly late. It's ten o'clock. But mother and I
+went last night to the Aldwych, and afterwards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
+with the Baileys to supper at the Savoy. So I may
+be forgiven, may I not&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, dear," I replied, placing my hand
+upon her shoulder. "What are you doing to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I'm quite full up with engagements," she
+replied, crossing to the writing-table and consulting a
+porcelain writing tablet.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm due at my dressmaker's at half-past eleven,
+then I've to call in Mount Street at half-past twelve,
+lunch at the Berkeley, where mother has two women
+to lunch with her, and a concert at Queen's Hall
+at three&mdash;quite a day, isn't it?" she laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said. "You are very busy&mdash;too busy
+even to talk seriously with me&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Talk seriously!" she echoed, looking me
+straight in the face. "What do you mean, Teddy?
+Why, what's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! nothing very much, dearest," was my
+reply, for I was striving to remain calm, not withstanding
+my great anxiety and tortured mind.</p>
+
+<p>"But there is," she persisted, clutching at my
+hand and looking eagerly into my face. "What is
+amiss? Tell me," she added, in low earnestness.</p>
+
+<p>I was silent for a moment, and leaving her I
+crossed to the window and gazed out into the broad,
+grey thoroughfare, grim and dispiriting on that
+chilly January morning.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment I held my breath, then, with
+sudden determination, I walked back to where she
+was standing, and placing both hands upon her
+shoulders, kissed her passionately upon the lips.</p>
+
+<p>"You are upset to-day, Teddy," she said,
+with deep concern. "What has happened? Tell
+me, dear."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I hardly know what's happened," I replied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
+in a low voice. "But, Phrida," I said, looking
+straight into her great eyes, "I want to&mdash;to ask you
+a question."</p>
+
+<p>"A question&mdash;what?" she demanded, her cheeks
+paling slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I want you to tell me what you know
+of a Mrs. Petre, a&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Petre!" she gasped, stepping back
+from me, her face pale as death in an instant.
+"That woman!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that woman, Phrida. Who is she&mdash;what
+is she?"</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't ask me, Teddy," my love cried in
+distress, covering her pretty face with her hands
+and bursting suddenly into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"But I must, Phrida&mdash;I must, for my own peace
+of mind," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Why? Do you know the woman?"</p>
+
+<p>"I met her last night," I explained. "I delivered
+to her a note which my friend Digby had
+entrusted to me."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought your friend had disappeared?" she
+said quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"It was given to me before his flight," was my
+response. "I fulfilled a confidential mission with
+which he entrusted me. And&mdash;and I met her.
+She knows you&mdash;isn't that so?"</p>
+
+<p>I stood with my eyes full upon the white face
+of the woman I loved, surveying her coldly and
+critically, so full of black suspicion. Was my
+heart at that moment wholly hers? In imagination,
+place yourself, my reader, in a similar position.
+Put before yourself the problem with which, at that
+second, I found myself face to face.</p>
+
+<p>I loved Phrida, and yet had I not obtained proof
+positive of her clandestine visit to my friend on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>
+that fateful night? Were her finger-prints not
+upon the little glass-topped specimen-table in his
+room?</p>
+
+<p>And yet so clever, so ingenious had she been,
+so subtle was her woman's wit, that she had never
+admitted to me any knowledge of him further than
+a formal introduction I had once made long ago.</p>
+
+<p>I had trusted her&mdash;aye, trusted her with all the
+open sincerity of an honourable man&mdash;for I loved
+her better than anything else on earth. And with
+what result?</p>
+
+<p>With my own senses of smell and of hearing I had
+detected her presence on the stairs&mdash;waiting, it
+seemed, to visit my friend in secret after I had
+left.</p>
+
+<p>No doubt she had been unaware of my identity
+as his visitor, or she would never dared to have
+lurked there.</p>
+
+<p>As I stood with my hand tenderly upon her arm,
+the gaze of my well-beloved was directed to the
+ground. Guilt seemed written upon her white
+brow, for she dared not raise her eyes to mine.</p>
+
+<p>"Phrida, you know that woman&mdash;you can't
+deny knowledge of her&mdash;can you?"</p>
+
+<p>She stood like a statue, with her hands clenched,
+her mouth half open, her jaws fixed.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I&mdash;I don't know what you mean," she
+faltered at last, in a hard voice quite unusual
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean that I have a suspicion, Phrida&mdash;a
+horrible suspicion&mdash;that you have deceived me,"
+I said.</p>
+
+<p>"How?" she asked, with her harsh, forced laugh.</p>
+
+<p>I paused. How should I tell her? How should
+I begin?</p>
+
+<p>"You have suppressed from me certain knowledge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
+of which you know I ought to have been in possession
+for my friend Digby's sake, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Digby Kemsley again!" she cried impatiently.
+"You've not been the same to me
+since that man disappeared."</p>
+
+<p>"Because you know more concerning him than
+you have ever admitted to me, Phrida," I said in
+a firm, earnest voice, grasping her by the arm and
+whispering into her ear. "Now, be open and frank
+with me&mdash;tell me the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"Of what?" she faltered, raising her eyes to
+mine with a frightened look.</p>
+
+<p>"Of what Mrs. Petre has told me."</p>
+
+<p>"That woman! What has she said against
+me?" my love demanded with quick resentment.</p>
+
+<p>"She is not your friend, in any case," I
+said slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"My friend!" she echoed. "I should think not.
+She&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>And my love's little hands clenched themselves
+and she burst again into tears without concluding
+her sentence.</p>
+
+<p>"I know, dearest," I said, striving to calm her,
+and stroking her hair from her white brow. "I
+tell you at once that I do not give credence to any
+of her foul allegations, only&mdash;well, in order to
+satisfy myself, I have come direct to you to hear
+your explanation."</p>
+
+<p>"My&mdash;my explanation!" she gasped, placing
+her hand to her brow and bowing her head. "Ah!
+what explanation can I make of allegations I have
+never heard?" she demanded. "Surely, Teddy,
+you are asking too much."</p>
+
+<p>I grasped her hand, and holding it in mine gazed
+again upon her. We were standing together near
+the centre of the room where the glowing fire shed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+a genial warmth and lit up the otherwise gloomy
+and solemn apartment.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! how sweet she seemed to me, how dainty,
+how charming, how very pure. And yet? Ah!
+the recollection of that woman's insinuations
+on the previous night ate like a canker-worm
+into my heart. And yet how I loved the pale,
+agitated girl before me! Was she not all the world
+to me?</p>
+
+<p>A long and painful silence had fallen between
+us, a silence only broken by the whirl of a taxi
+passing outside and the chiming of the long, old-fashioned
+clock on the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>At last I summoned courage to say in a calm,
+low voice;</p>
+
+<p>"I am not asking too much, Phrida. I am only
+pressing you to act with your usual honesty, and
+tell me the truth. Surely you can have nothing
+to conceal?"</p>
+
+<p>"How absurd you are, Teddy!" she said in
+her usual voice. "What can I possibly have
+to conceal from you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me," I said; "but you have already
+concealed from me certain very important facts
+concerning my friend Digby."</p>
+
+<p>"Who has told you that? The woman Petre, I
+suppose," she cried in anger. "Very well, believe
+her, if you wish."</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't believe her," I protested.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why ask me for an explanation?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because one is, I consider, due from you in
+the circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you have set yourself up to be my judge,
+have you?" she asked, drawing herself up proudly,
+all traces of her tears having vanished. I saw that
+the attitude she had now assumed was one of de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>fiance;
+therefore I knew that if I were to obtain
+the information I desired I must act with greatest
+discretion.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Phrida," I answered. "I do not mistrust
+or misjudge you. All I ask of you is the
+truth. What do you know of my friend Digby
+Kemsley?"</p>
+
+<p>"Know of him&mdash;why, nothing&mdash;except that you
+introduced us."</p>
+
+<p>For a second I remained silent. Then with severity
+I remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, but I think you rather misunderstood
+my question. I meant to ask whether
+you have ever been to his flat in Harrington
+Gardens?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I see," she cried instantly. "That woman
+Petre has endeavoured to set you against me,
+Teddy, because I love you. She has invented
+some cruel lie or other, just as she did in another
+case within my knowledge. Come," she added,
+"tell me out plainly what she has alleged
+against me?"</p>
+
+<p>She was very firm and resolute now, and I saw
+in her face a hard, defiant expression&mdash;an expression
+of bitter hatred against the woman who had
+betrayed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," I said; "loving you as intensely as
+I do, I can hardly bring myself to repeat her
+insinuations."</p>
+
+<p>"But I demand to know them," she protested,
+standing erect and facing me. "I am attacked;
+therefore, I am within my right to know what
+charges the woman has brought against me."</p>
+
+<p>"She has brought no direct charges," was my
+slow reply. "But she has suggested certain things&mdash;certain
+scandalous things."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What are they?" she gasped, suddenly pale
+as death.</p>
+
+<p>"First tell me the truth, Phrida," I cried, holding
+her in my arms and looking straight into those
+splendid eyes I admired so much. "Admit it&mdash;you
+knew Digby. He&mdash;he was a friend of
+yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"A&mdash;a friend&mdash;" she gasped, half choking with
+emotion. "A&mdash;friend&mdash;yes."</p>
+
+<p>"You knew him intimately. You visited him at
+his rooms unknown to me!" I went on fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" she shrieked. "Don't torture me like
+this, Teddy, when I love you so deeply. You don't
+know&mdash;you can never know all I have suffered&mdash;and
+now this woman has sought to ruin and
+crush me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Has she spoken the truth when she says that
+you visited Digby&mdash;at night&mdash;in secret!" I demanded,
+bitterly, between my teeth, still holding
+her, her white, hard-set face but a few inches
+from my own.</p>
+
+<p>She drew a long, deep breath, and in her eyes
+was a strange half-fascinated look&mdash;a look that I
+had never seen in them before.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Teddy," she gasped. "This&mdash;this is the
+death of all our love. I foresee only darkness and
+ruin before me. But I will not lie to you. No!
+I&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Then she paused, and a shudder ran through her
+slim frame which I held within my grasp. "I'll
+tell you the truth. Yes. I&mdash;I&mdash;went to see your
+friend unknown to you."</p>
+
+<p>"You did!" I cried hoarsely, with fierce anger
+possessing my soul.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear," she faltered in a voice so low that
+I could scarce catch her reply. "Yes&mdash;I&mdash;I went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+there," she faltered, "because&mdash;because he&mdash;he
+compelled me."</p>
+
+<p>"Compelled you!" I echoed in blank dismay.</p>
+
+<p>But at that instant I saw that the blackness of
+unconsciousness had fallen upon my love even as I
+held her in my embrace.</p>
+
+<p>And for me, too, alas! the sun of life had ceased
+to shine, and the world was dead.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE FUGITIVE'S SECRET.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">Tenderly</span> I placed my love upon the couch, and
+then rang the bell.</p>
+
+<p>In answer to my summons the young Italian
+man-servant appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Send Mallock here quickly," I said. "Miss
+Shand is not well. But say nothing of this to
+your mistress, or to the other servants. You
+understand, Egisto?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cer-tainly, sare," replied the smart young
+Tuscan, and a few moments later the door re-opened
+to admit the thin-faced maid in black, wearing her
+muslin apron and gold-rimmed glasses.</p>
+
+<p>She dashed across to the couch in an instant,
+and bent, looking into the white, immobile face of
+my well-beloved.</p>
+
+<p>"I fear your mistress has fainted, Mallock, so I
+thought it best to call you. I have, unfortunately,
+imparted to her some news which has upset her.
+Will you please see after her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, sir. I'll go and get some smelling
+salts and some water."</p>
+
+<p>And quickly the girl disappeared. Then, when she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>
+had gone, I stood before the inanimate form of
+the woman I loved so well, and wondered what could
+be the real, actual truth.</p>
+
+<p>Her admission had taken me aback. She had
+confessed to visiting my friend, but had alleged
+that he had compelled her. Was she actually
+beneath some mysterious thraldom&mdash;was she held
+in some secret bondage by the man I had trusted
+and who was my best friend?</p>
+
+<p>The very suspicion of it filled me with a
+fierce irresponsible anger, and I clenched my
+fists.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! I would find him and face him. I would
+clutch his throat and force the truth from his
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>And if he had betrayed me&mdash;if he had exercised
+any evil influence over Phrida&mdash;then, by heaven!
+I would take his life!</p>
+
+<p>Mallock bustled in the next moment, and sinking
+upon her knees began to apply restoratives.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell your mistress that I will return after
+luncheon, if she will see me," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And&mdash;and tell her, Mallock, to remain calm until
+I see her. Will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," answered the maid, and then I went
+out into the hall, struggled into my overcoat, and
+left the house.</p>
+
+<p>Out in Cromwell Road the scene, grey, dull
+and dismal, was, alas! in accord with my own
+feelings.</p>
+
+<p>The blow I had feared had fallen. The terrible
+suspicion I had held from that moment when, upon
+the stairs at Harrington Gardens, I had smelt that
+sweet, unusual perfume and heard the jingle of
+golden bangles, had been proved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She had actually admitted her presence there&mdash;with
+the man I had believed to be my friend, the
+man, whom, up to the present, I had sought to
+shield and protect!</p>
+
+<p>I hailed a taxi, and not knowing what I did, drove
+to the Reform. As I passed up the steps from
+Pall Mall the porter handed me my letters, and then,
+heedless of where my footsteps carried me, I entered
+the big, square hall and turned into the writing-room
+on the left&mdash;a room historic in the annals of British
+politics, for many a State secret had been discussed
+there by Ministers of the Crown, many a point of
+the Cabinet's policy had been decided, and also the
+fate of many a bill.</p>
+
+<p>The long, sombre room with the writing tables
+covered with blue cloth, was empty, as it usually is,
+and I flung myself down to scribble a note&mdash;an
+apology for not keeping an appointment that
+afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>My overburdened heart was full of chagrin and
+grief, for my idol had been shattered by a single
+blow, and only the wreck of all my hopes and
+aspirations now remained.</p>
+
+<p>In a week's time the coroner would hold his
+adjourned inquiry into the tragedy at Harrington
+Gardens, and then what startling revelations
+might be made! By that time it was
+probable that the police would be able to establish
+the identity of the accused, and, moreover,
+with Mrs. Petre vengeful and incensed against
+Phrida, might she not make a statement to the
+authorities?</p>
+
+<p>If so, what then?</p>
+
+<p>I sat with my elbows upon the table staring out
+into Pall Mall, which wore such a cold and cheerless
+aspect that morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>What could I do? How should I act? Ah!
+yes, at that moment I sat utterly bewildered, and
+trying in vain to discern some way out of that
+maze of mystery.</p>
+
+<p>I had not looked at the unopened letters beneath
+my hand, but suddenly chancing to glance at
+them, I noticed one in an unfamiliar feminine
+handwriting.</p>
+
+<p>I tore it open carelessly, expecting to find some
+invitation or other, when, within, I found three
+hastily scrawled lines written on the notepaper
+of the Great Eastern Hotel at Liverpool Street.
+It read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Since I saw you something has happened.
+Can you meet me again as soon as possible?
+Please wire me, Mrs. Petre, Melbourne House,
+Colchester."</p></div>
+
+<p>I gazed at the note in extreme satisfaction. At
+least, I had the woman's address. Yes, after I had
+again seen Phrida I would see her and force from
+her lips the truth.</p>
+
+<p>I rose quickly, placed the other letters in my
+pocket without opening them, and drove down to
+the City, where I was compelled to keep a business
+appointment.</p>
+
+<p>At half-past three Egisto admitted me to Mrs.
+Shand's, and in reply to my question, told me that
+the "Signorina," as he always called Phrida, was
+in the morning-room.</p>
+
+<p>Dressed in a pale grey gown, relieved with
+lace at the collar and wrists, she rose slowly
+from a big armchair as I entered, and came
+across to me, her face pale, drawn, and
+anxious.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah! dearest," I cried. "I'm glad to see
+you better. Are you quite yourself again
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite, thanks," was her low, rather weak reply.
+"I&mdash;I felt very unwell this morning. I&mdash;I don't
+know what was the matter." Then clinging to me
+suddenly, she added, "Ah! forgive me, Teddy,
+won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing to forgive, dear," was my
+reply, as, placing my arm tenderly about her slim
+waist, I looked into the depths of those wonderful
+dark eyes of hers, trying to fathom what secret
+lay hidden there.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" she ejaculated. "I know, dear, that
+though you affect to have forgiven me&mdash;that
+you have not. How could you possibly forgive?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not angry with you in the least, Phrida!"
+I assured her quite calmly. "Because you
+have not yet told me the truth. I am here to
+learn it."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she gasped, sinking into a chair and
+staring straight into the fire. The short winter's
+day was dying, and already the light had nearly
+faded. But the fire threw a mellow glow upon
+her pale, hard-set features, and she presented a
+strangely dramatic picture as she sat there with
+head bent in shame. "Ah! yes. You are
+here again to torture me, I suppose," she sighed
+bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no desire in the least to torture
+you," I said, standing erect before her. "But I
+certainly think that some explanation of your
+conduct is due to me&mdash;the man whom you are to
+marry."</p>
+
+<p>"Marry!" she echoed in a blank voice, with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>
+shrug of her shoulders, her eyes still fixed upon
+the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, marry," I repeated. "You made an
+admission to me this morning&mdash;one of which
+any man would in such circumstances demand
+explanation. You said that my friend had
+forced you to go to Harrington Gardens. Tell
+me why? What power does that man hold over
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, no! Teddy!" she cried, starting wildly
+to her feet. "No, no!" she protested, grasping my
+hands frantically. "Don't ask that question.
+Spare me that! Spare me that, for the sake of
+the love you once bore for me."</p>
+
+<p>"No. I repeat my question," I said slowly, but
+very determinedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! no. I&mdash;I can't answer it. I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>For a few moments a silence fell between us.</p>
+
+<p>Then I said in a low, meaning tone:</p>
+
+<p>"You can't answer it, Phrida, because you are
+ashamed, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>She sprang upon me in an instant, her face full
+of resentful fire.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" she declared vehemently. "I am
+not ashamed&mdash;only I&mdash;I cannot tell you the
+reason I went to Harrington Gardens. That's
+all."</p>
+
+<p>"Yours is, to say the least, a rather thin excuse,
+is it not?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"What else can I say? Simply I can tell you
+nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"But you admit that you went to Harrington
+Gardens. Did you go more than once?" I asked
+very quietly.</p>
+
+<p>She nodded in the affirmative.</p>
+
+<p>"And the last occasion was on the night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>
+when my friend was forced to fly, eh?" I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>I saw that she was about to elude answering
+my question. Therefore, I added:</p>
+
+<p>"I already know you were there. I have
+established your presence beyond the shadow
+of doubt. So you may just as well admit it."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I do," she faltered, sinking again into
+her chair and resting her elbows upon her
+knees.</p>
+
+<p>"You were there&mdash;you were present when the
+crime was committed," I said, looking straight at
+her as I stood before her with folded arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoever has said that tells wicked lies," was
+her quick response.</p>
+
+<p>"You were in Digby's room that night&mdash;after
+I left," I declared.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Because the police have photographs of your
+finger-prints," was my quiet reply.</p>
+
+<p>The effect of my words upon her was electrical.</p>
+
+<p>"The police!" she gasped, her face instantly
+pale as death. "Do they know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Inspector Edwards is in possession of your
+finger-prints," I replied briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then&mdash;then they will suspect me!" she shrieked
+in despair. "Ah! Teddy! If you love me,
+save me!"</p>
+
+<p>And she flung herself wildly at my feet, clutching
+my hands and raising her face to mine in
+frantic appeal.</p>
+
+<p>"For that very reason I have returned here
+to you to-day, Phrida," I replied in a low tone
+of sympathy. "If I can save you from being
+implicated in this terrible affair, I will. But
+you must tell me the whole truth from the start.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>
+Then I may be able to devise a plan to ensure
+your security."</p>
+
+<p>And I slowly assisted her to her feet and led
+her back to her chair.</p>
+
+<p>She sat without moving or speaking for some
+moments, gravely thinking. Then of a sudden,
+she said in a hard, hoarse voice:</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! you don't know, Teddy, what I have
+suffered&mdash;how I have been the innocent victim
+of a foul and dastardly plot. I&mdash;I was entrapped&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Entrapped!" I echoed. "By whom? Not
+by Digby Kemsley? He was not the sort of
+man."</p>
+
+<p>"He is your friend, I know. But if you
+knew the truth you would hate him&mdash;hate
+him, with as deep and fierce a hatred as I do
+now," she declared, with a strange look in her
+great eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You told me he had forced you to go to his
+flat."</p>
+
+<p>"He did."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because he wanted to tell me something&mdash;to&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"To tell you what?"</p>
+
+<p>"I refuse to explain&mdash;I can't tell you, Teddy."</p>
+
+<p>"Because it would be betraying his secret&mdash;eh?"
+I remarked with bitterness. "And,
+yet, in the same breath you have told me
+you hate him. Surely, this attitude of yours is
+an unusual one&mdash;is it not? You cannot hate
+him and strive to shield him at the same
+moment!"</p>
+
+<p>She paused for a second before replying. Then
+she said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I admit that my attitude towards your friend
+is a somewhat strange one, but there are reasons&mdash;strong,
+personal reasons of my own&mdash;which
+prevent me revealing to you the whole of what
+is a strange and ghastly story. Surely it will
+suffice you to know that I did not conceal all
+knowledge of your friend and call upon him in
+secret all of my own free will. No, Teddy, I loved
+you&mdash;and I still love you, dear&mdash;far too well for
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"I trusted you, Phrida, but you deceived
+me," I replied, with a poignant bitterness in my
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Under compulsion. Because&mdash;&mdash;" and she
+paused with a look of terror in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Because what?" I asked slowly, placing my
+hand tenderly upon her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>She shrank from contact with me.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I&mdash;I can't tell you. It&mdash;it's all too
+terrible, too horrible!" she whispered hoarsely,
+covering her white face with her hands. "I
+loved you, but, alas! all my happiness, all the
+joy of which I have so long dreamed, has slipped
+away from me because of the one false step&mdash;my
+one foolish action&mdash;of which I have so long
+repented."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, Phrida," I urged, in deep earnestness,
+bending down to her. "Confide in me."</p>
+
+<p>"No," she replied, with an air of determination.
+"It is my own affair. I have acted foolishly and
+must bear the consequences."</p>
+
+<p>"But surely you will not sacrifice our love rather
+than tell me the truth!" I cried.</p>
+
+<p>Hot tears welled in her eyes, and I felt her frail
+form tremble beneath my touch.</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! I am compelled," she faltered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then you refuse to tell me&mdash;you refuse to
+explain why this man whom I believed to be
+my friend, and to whom I have rendered many
+services, has held you in his thraldom?" I
+exclaimed bitterly.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>REVEALS A FURTHER DECEPTION.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">My</span> love paused. She remained silent for a long
+time. Then, with her head bowed, she faltered:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I&mdash;I am compelled to refuse."</p>
+
+<p>"Why compelled?" I demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I cannot tell you," she whispered hoarsely.
+"I dare not."</p>
+
+<p>"Dare not? Is your secret so terrible, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It is all a mystery. I do not know the
+truth myself," she replied. "I only know that I&mdash;that
+I love you, and that now, because that woman
+has spoken, I have lost you and am left to face the
+world&mdash;the police&mdash;alone!"</p>
+
+<p>"Have I not told you, dearest, that I will do my
+best to protect and defend you if you will only
+reveal the truth to me," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"But I can't."</p>
+
+<p>"You still wish to shield this blackguard who
+has held you in secret in his hands?" I cried
+in anger.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't," she cried in despair. "I tell
+you, Teddy, now&mdash;even if this is the last time we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>
+ever meet&mdash;that I love you and you alone. I have
+fallen the victim of a clever and dastardly plot,
+believe me, or believe me not. What I tell you is
+the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"I do believe you," I replied fervently. "But
+if you love me, Phrida, as you declare, you will
+surely reveal to me the perfidy of this man I
+have trusted!"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I can't now," she said in a voice of excuse.
+"It is impossible. But you may know some day."</p>
+
+<p>"You knew that I visited him on that fatal
+night. Answer me?"</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated. Then presently, in a low tone,
+replied&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Teddy, I knew. Ah!" she went on, her
+face white and haggard. "You cannot know the
+torture I have undergone&mdash;fearing that you might
+be aware of my presence there. Each time I met
+you I feared to look you in the face."</p>
+
+<p>"Because your secret is a guilty one&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I fell into a trap, and I cannot extricate myself,"
+she declared hoarsely. "Now that the police
+know, there is only one way out for me," she added,
+in a tone of blank despair. "I cannot face it&mdash;no&mdash;I&mdash;now
+that I have lost your love, dear. I care
+for naught more. My enemies will hound me to
+my death!"</p>
+
+<p>And she burst into a torrent of bitter tears.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," I answered her, placing my hand
+tenderly upon her shoulder. "Reveal the truth
+to me, and I will protect you and shield you from
+them. At present, though the police are in possession
+of your finger-prints, as being those of a person
+who had entered the flat on that night, they have
+no knowledge of your identity, therefore, dear, have
+no fear."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah! but I am in peril!" she cried, and I felt
+her shudder beneath my touch. "That woman&mdash;ah!&mdash;she
+may tell the police!"</p>
+
+<p>"What woman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Petre, the woman who has already betrayed
+me to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then she knows&mdash;she knows your secret?"
+I gasped.</p>
+
+<p>She bent her head slowly in the affirmative.</p>
+
+<p>I saw in her eyes a look of terror and despair,
+such as I had never before seen in the eyes of any
+person before&mdash;a haunted, agonised expression
+that caused my heart to go out in sympathy for
+her&mdash;for even though she might be guilty&mdash;guilty
+of that crime of vengeance, yet, after all, she was
+mine and she possessed my heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there no way of closing that woman's lips?"
+I asked very slowly.</p>
+
+<p>She was silent, for, apparently, the suggestion
+had not before occurred to her. Of a sudden, she
+looked up into my face earnestly, and asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, Teddy. Will you promise me&mdash;promise
+not to prejudge me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not prejudge you at all, dearest," I declared
+with a smile. "My annoyance is due to
+your refusal to reveal to me anything concerning
+the man who has falsely posed as my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"I would tell you all, dearest," she assured me,
+"but it is impossible. If I spoke I should only
+further arouse your suspicions, for you would never
+believe that I spoke the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you prefer that I should remain in ignorance,
+and by doing so your own peril becomes
+increased!" I remarked, rather harshly.</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! my silence is imperative," was all she
+would reply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Again and again I pressed her to tell me the reason
+of the evil influence held over her by the man who
+was now a fugitive, but with the greatest ingenuity
+she evaded my questions, afterwards declaring
+that all my inquiries were futile. The secret was
+hers.</p>
+
+<p>"And so you intend to shield this man, Phrida,"
+I remarked at last, in bitter reproach.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not silent for his sake!" my love cried,
+starting up in quick resentment. "I hate him too
+much. No, I refuse to reveal the truth because
+I am compelled."</p>
+
+<p>"But supposing you were compelled to clear
+yourself in a criminal court," I said. "Supposing
+that this woman went to the police! What then?
+You would be compelled to speak the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"No. I&mdash;I'd rather kill myself!" she declared,
+in frantic despair. "Indeed, that is what I intend
+to do&mdash;now that I know I have lost you!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," I cried. "You have not lost me,
+Phrida. I still believe in your purity and honesty,"
+I went on, clasping her passionately to my
+heart, she sobbing bitterly the while. "I love
+you and I still believe in you," I whispered into
+her ear.</p>
+
+<p>She heaved a great sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I wonder if you really speak the truth?"
+she murmured. "If I thought you still believed in
+me, how happy I should be. I would face my
+enemies, and defy them."</p>
+
+<p>"I repeat, Phrida, that notwithstanding this
+suspicion upon you, I love you," I said very
+earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will not prejudge me!" she asked,
+raising her tear-stained eyes to mine. "You will
+not believe evil of me until&mdash;until I can prove to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
+you the contrary. You will not believe what Mrs.
+Petre has told you?" she implored.</p>
+
+<p>"I promise, dearest, that I will believe nothing
+against you," I said fervently, kissing her cold, hard
+lips. "But cannot you, in return, assist me in
+solving the mystery of Harrington Gardens. Who
+was the girl found there? Surely you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't. I swear I don't," was her
+quick reply, though her face was blanched to the
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>"But Mrs. Petre gave me to understand that you
+knew her," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;that woman!" she cried in anger. "She
+has lied to you, as to the others. Have I not told
+you that she is my most deadly enemy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then she may go to the police&mdash;who knows!
+How can we close her mouth?"</p>
+
+<p>My love drew a long breath and shook her head.
+The light had faded, and only the fitful flames of
+the fire illuminated the sombre room. In the
+dark shadows she presented a pale, pathetic little
+figure, her face white as death, her thin, delicate
+hands clasped before her in dismay and despair.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you any idea where Digby is at this
+moment?" I asked her slowly, wondering whether
+if he were an intimate friend he had let her know
+his hiding-place.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I have not the slightest idea," was her
+faint reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! If only I could discover him I would
+wring the truth from him," I exclaimed between
+my teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"And if you did so, I myself would be imperilled,"
+she remarked. "No, Teddy, you must not do that
+if&mdash;if you love me and would protect me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If you went to him he would know that I had
+spoken, and then he would fulfil the threats he has
+so often made. No, you must not utter a single
+word. You must, for my sake, still remain his
+friend. Will you, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"After what you have told me!" I cried.
+"Never!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you must," she implored, grasping both
+my hands in hers. "If he had the slightest suspicion
+that I had admitted my friendship with him, he
+would act as he has always declared he would."</p>
+
+<p>"How would he act?"</p>
+
+<p>"He would reveal something&mdash;he would bring
+proofs that even you would consider irrefutable,"
+she answered in a low, hard whisper. "No, dear,"
+and her grip upon my hands tightened. "In any
+case there only remains to me one course&mdash;to
+end it all, for in any case, I must lose you. Your
+confidence and love can never be restored."</p>
+
+<p>"You must not speak like that," I said very
+gravely. "I have not yet lost confidence in you,
+Phrida. I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I know how generous you are, dear,"
+she interrupted, "but how can I conceal from myself
+the true position? You have discovered that I
+visited that man's flat clandestinely, that&mdash;that we
+were friends&mdash;and that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She paused, not concluding her sentence, and
+bursting again into tears, rushed from the room
+before I could grasp and detain her.</p>
+
+<p>I stood silent, utterly dumbfounded.</p>
+
+<p>Were those words an admission of her guilt?</p>
+
+<p>Was it by her hand, as that woman had insinuated,
+the unknown girl's life had been taken?</p>
+
+<p>I recollected the nature of the wound, as revealed
+by the medical evidence, and I recalled that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
+knife which was lying upon the table in the drawing-room
+above.</p>
+
+<p>Why did Phrida so carefully conceal from me the
+exact truth concerning her friendship with the man
+I had trusted? What secret power did he exercise
+over her? And why did she fear to reveal anything
+to me&mdash;even though I had assured her that my
+confidence in her remained unshaken.</p>
+
+<p>Was not guilt written upon that hard, white face?</p>
+
+<p>I stood staring out of the window in blank indecision.
+What I had all along half feared had
+been proved. Between my love and the man of
+whom I had never had the slightest suspicion,
+some secret&mdash;some guilty secret&mdash;existed.</p>
+
+<p>And even now, even at risk of losing my affection,
+she was seeking to shield him!</p>
+
+<p>My blood boiled within me, and I clenched
+my fists as I strode angrily up and down that
+dark room.</p>
+
+<p>All her admissions came back to me&mdash;her frantic
+appeal to me not to prejudge her, and her final and
+out-spoken decision to take her own life rather than
+reveal the truth.</p>
+
+<p>What could it mean? What was the real solution
+of that strange problem of crime in which, quite
+unwittingly, I had become so deeply implicated?</p>
+
+<p>I was passing the grate in pacing the room, as
+I had already done several times, when my eyes fell
+upon a piece of paper which had been screwed up
+and flung there. Curiosity prompted me to pick
+it out of the cinders, for it struck me that it must have
+been thrown there by Phrida before I had entered
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>To my surprise I saw the moment I held it in my
+hand that it was a telegram. Opening it carefully
+I found that it was addressed to her, therefore she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>
+had no doubt cast it upon the fire when I had so
+suddenly entered.</p>
+
+<p>I read it, and stood open-mouthed and amazed.</p>
+
+<p>By it the perfidy of the woman I loved, alas!
+became revealed.</p>
+
+<p>She had deceived me!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>AN EFFACED IDENTITY.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">The</span> telegram was signed with the initial "D."&mdash;Digby!</p>
+
+<p>The words I read were&mdash;"Have discovered T
+suspects. Exercise greatest care, and remember
+your promise. We shall meet again soon."</p>
+
+<p>The message showed that it had been handed
+in at Brussels at one o'clock that afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Brussels! So he was hiding there. Yes, I would
+lose no time in crossing to the gay little Belgian
+capital and search him out.</p>
+
+<p>Before giving him up to the police I would meet
+him face to face and demand the truth. I would
+compel him to speak.</p>
+
+<p>Should I retain possession of the message? I
+reflected. But, on consideration, I saw that
+when I had left, Phrida might return to recover
+it. If I replaced it where I had found it she
+would remain in ignorance of the knowledge I had
+gained.</p>
+
+<p>So I screwed it up again and put it back among
+the cinders in the grate, afterwards leaving the
+house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Next morning I stepped out upon the platform
+of the great Gare du Nord in Brussels&mdash;a
+city I knew well, as I had often been there
+on business&mdash;and drove in a taxi along the
+busy, bustling Boulevard Auspach to the Grand
+Hotel.</p>
+
+<p>In the courtyard, as I got out, the frock-coated
+and urbane manager welcomed me warmly, for I
+had frequently been his guest, and I was shown to
+a large room overlooking the Boulevard where I
+had a wash and changed.</p>
+
+<p>Then descending, I called a taxi and immediately
+began a tour of the various hotels where
+I thought it most likely that the man I sought
+might be.</p>
+
+<p>The morning was crisp and cold, with a perfect
+sky and brilliant sunshine, bright and cheerful
+indeed after the mist and gloom of January in
+London.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow the aspect, even in winter, is always
+brighter across the channel than in our much
+maligned little island. They know not the "pea-souper"
+on the other side of the Straits of
+Dover, and the light, invigorating atmosphere
+is markedly apparent directly one enters France
+or Belgium.</p>
+
+<p>The business boulevards, the Boulevarde
+Auspach, and the Boulevard du Nord, with
+their smart shops, their big caf&eacute;s, and their
+hustling crowds, were bright and gay as my taxi
+sped on, first to the M&eacute;tropole, in the Place
+de Brouckere.</p>
+
+<p>The name of Kemsley was unknown there. The
+old concierge glanced at his book, shook his head,
+and elevating his shoulders, replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Non, m'sieur."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Thence I went to the Palace, in front of
+the station, the great new hotel and one of
+the finest in Europe, a huge, garish place
+of gilt and luxury. But there I met with equal
+success.</p>
+
+<p>Then I made the tour of the tree-lined outer
+boulevards, up past the Botanical Gardens and along
+the Rue Royale, first to the Hotel de France, then
+to the Europe, the Belle Vue, the Carlton in the
+Avenue Louise, the new Wiltscher's a few doors
+away, and a very noted English house from the
+Boulevard Waterloo, as well as a dozen other
+houses in various parts of the town&mdash;the Cecil
+in the Boulevard du Nord, the Astoria in the Rue
+Royale, and even one or two of the cheaper
+pensions&mdash;the Dufour, De Boek's, and Nettell's,
+but all to no purpose.</p>
+
+<p>Though I spent the whole of that day making
+investigations I met with no success.</p>
+
+<p>Though I administered judicious tips to concierge
+after concierge, I could not stir the
+memory of a single one that within the past
+ten days any English gentleman answering
+the description I gave had stayed at their
+establishment.</p>
+
+<p>Until the day faded, and the street lamps
+were lit, I continued my search, my taxi-driver
+having entered into the spirit of my
+quest, and from time to time suggesting other
+and more obscure hotels of which I had never
+heard.</p>
+
+<p>But the reply was the same&mdash;a regretful "Non,
+m'sieur."</p>
+
+<p>It had, of course, occurred to me that if the
+fugitive was hiding from the Belgian police, who
+no doubt had received his description from Scot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>land
+Yard, he would most certainly assume a
+false name.</p>
+
+<p>But I hoped by my minute description to be able
+to stir the memory of one or other of the dozens
+of uniformed hall-porters whom I interviewed.
+The majority of such men have a remarkably
+retentive memory for a face, due to long cultivation,
+just as that possessed by one's club hall-porter,
+who can at once address any of the thousand or so
+members by name.</p>
+
+<p>I confess, however, when at five o'clock,
+I sat in the huge, noisy Caf&eacute; M&eacute;tropole over
+a glass of coffee and a liqueur of cognac, I
+began to realise the utter hopelessness of my
+search.</p>
+
+<p>Digby Kemsley was ever an evasive person&mdash;a
+past master in avoiding observation, as I well
+knew. It had always been a hobby of his, he
+had told me, of watching persons without himself
+being seen.</p>
+
+<p>Once he had remarked to me while we had
+been smoking together in that well-remembered
+room wherein the tragedy had taken
+place:</p>
+
+<p>"I should make a really successful detective,
+Royle. I've had at certain periods of my life to
+efface myself and watch unseen. Now I've brought
+it to a fine art. If ever circumstances make it imperative
+for me to disappear&mdash;which I hope not,"
+he laughed, "well&mdash;nobody will ever find me,
+I'm positive."</p>
+
+<p>These words of his now came back to me
+as I sat there pensively smoking, and wondering
+if, after all, I had better not return again
+to London and remain patient for the additional
+police evidence which would no doubt be forth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>coming
+at the adjourned inquest in a week's
+time.</p>
+
+<p>I thought of the clever cunning exercised by
+the girl whom I so dearly loved and in whose
+innocence I had so confidently believed, of her
+blank refusal to satisfy me, and alas! of her
+avowed determination to shield the scoundrel
+who had posed as my friend, and whom the
+police had declared to be only a vulgar impostor.</p>
+
+<p>My bitter reflection maddened me.</p>
+
+<p>The jingle and chatter of that noisy caf&eacute;, full to
+overflowing at that hour, for rain had commenced
+to fall outside in the boulevard, irritated me. From
+where I sat in the window I could see the crowds
+of business people, hurrying through the rain to
+their trams and trains&mdash;the neat-waisted little
+modistes, the felt-hatted young clerks, the obese
+and over-dressed and whiskered men from their
+offices on the Bourse, the hawkers crying the
+"Soir," and the "Derni&egrave;re Heure," with strident
+voices, the poor girls with rusty shawls and
+pinched faces, selling flowers, and the gaping,
+idling Cookites who seem to eternally pass and
+re-pass the M&eacute;tropole at all hours of the day and
+the night.</p>
+
+<p>Before my eyes was there presented the whole
+phantasmagoria of the life of the thrifty, hard-working
+Bruxellois, that active, energetic race which
+the French have so sarcastically designated "the
+brave Belgians."</p>
+
+<p>After a lonely dinner in the big, glaring salle-&agrave;-manger,
+at the Grand, I went forth again upon my
+quest. That the fugitive had been in Brussels on
+the previous day was proved by his telegram, yet
+evasive as he was, he might have already left.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
+Yet I hoped he still remained in the capital, and if
+so he would, I anticipated, probably go to one of
+the music-halls or variety theatres. Therefore I
+set out upon another round.</p>
+
+<p>I strolled eagerly through the crowded promenade
+of the chief music-hall of Brussels&mdash;the
+Pole Nord, the lounge wherein men and women
+were promenading, laughing, and drinking, but
+I saw nothing of the man of whom I was in
+search.</p>
+
+<p>I knew that he had shaved off his beard and
+otherwise altered his appearance. Therefore my
+attention upon those about me was compelled to be
+most acute.</p>
+
+<p>I surveyed both stalls and boxes, but amid that
+gay, well-dressed crowd I could discover nobody
+the least resembling him.</p>
+
+<p>From the Pole Nord I went to the Scala,
+where I watched part of an amusing revue;
+but my search there was likewise in vain, as
+it was also at Olympia, the Capucines, and
+the Folies Berg&egrave;res, which I visited in turn.
+Then, at midnight, I turned my attention to
+the big caf&eacute;s, wandering from the Bourse along
+the Boulevard Auspach, entering each caf&eacute;
+and glancing around, until at two o'clock in
+the morning I returned to the Grand, utterly
+fagged out by my long vigil of over fifteen
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>In my room I threw off my overcoat and flung
+myself upon the bed in utter despair.</p>
+
+<p>Until I met that man face to face I could not,
+I saw, learn the truth concerning my love's friendship
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Petre had made foul insinuations, and
+now that my suspicions had been aroused that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>
+Phrida might actually be guilty of that terrible
+crime at Harrington Gardens, the whole attitude of
+my well-beloved seemed to prove that my suspicions
+were well grounded.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, her last unfinished sentence as she had
+rushed from the room seemed conclusive proof of
+the guilty secret by which her mind was now
+overburdened.</p>
+
+<p>She had never dreamed that I held the
+slightest suspicion. It was only when she knew
+that the woman Petre had met me and had
+talked with me that she saw herself betrayed.
+Then, when I had spoken frankly, and told
+her what the woman had said, she saw that
+to further conceal her friendship with Digby was
+impossible.</p>
+
+<p>Every word she had spoken, every evasive sentence,
+every protest that she was compelled to remain
+silent, recurred to me as I lay there staring blankly
+at the painted ceiling.</p>
+
+<p>She had told me that she was unaware of
+the fugitive's whereabouts, and yet not half
+an hour before she had received a telegram
+from him.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, Phrida&mdash;the woman I trusted and loved
+with such a fierce, passionate affection, had lied to
+me deliberately and barefacedly.</p>
+
+<p>But I was on the fellow's track, and cost what
+it might in time, or in money, I did not intend to
+relinquish my search until I came face to face
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>That night, as I tossed restlessly in bed, it
+occurred to me that even though he might be in
+Brussels, it was most probable in the circumstances
+that he would exercise every precaution
+in his movements, and knowing that the police were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>
+in search of him, would perhaps not go forth in
+the daytime.</p>
+
+<p>Many are the Englishmen living "under a cloud"
+in Brussels, as well as in Paris, and there is
+not a Continental city of note which does not
+contain one or more of those who have "gone
+under" at home.</p>
+
+<p>Seedy and down-at-heel, they lounge about the
+caf&eacute;s and hotels frequented by English travellers.
+Sometimes they sit apart, pretend to sip their cup
+of coffee and read a newspaper, but in reality they
+are listening with avidity to their own language
+being spoken by their own people&mdash;poor, lonely,
+solitary exiles.</p>
+
+<p>Every man who knows the by-ways of the
+Continent has met them often in far-off,
+obscure towns, where they bury themselves in the
+lonely wilderness of a drab back street and live
+high-up for the sake of fresh air and that single
+streak of sunshine which is the sole pleasure of their
+broken, blighted lives.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, the more I reflected, the more apparent
+did it become that if the man whom Inspector
+Edwards had declared to be a gross impostor
+was still in the Belgian capital, he would most
+probably be in safe concealment in one or other
+of the cheaper suburbs.</p>
+
+<p>But how could I trace him?</p>
+
+<p>To go to the bureau of police and make a statement
+would only defeat my own ends.</p>
+
+<p>No; if I intended to learn the truth I must act
+upon my own initiative. Official interference would
+only thwart my own endeavours.</p>
+
+<p>I knew Digby Kemsley. He was as shrewd
+and cunning as any of the famous detectives,
+whether in real life or in fiction. Therefore,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>
+to be a match for him, I would, I already
+realised, be compelled to fight him with his own
+weapons.</p>
+
+<p>I did not intend that he should escape me
+before he told me, with his own lips, the secret
+of my well-beloved.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>REVEALS ANOTHER ENIGMA.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2">"<span class="smcap">The</span> identity of the victim has not yet been
+established, sir."</p>
+
+<p>These words were spoken to the coroner by
+Inspector Edwards at the adjourned inquest held
+on January the twenty-second.</p>
+
+<p>Few people were in court, for, until the
+present, the public had had no inkling as to
+what had occurred on that fatal night in Harrington
+Gardens. The first inquest had not been
+"covered" by any reporter, as the police had
+exercised considerable ingenuity in keeping the
+affair a secret.</p>
+
+<p>But now, at the adjourned inquiry, secrecy
+was no longer possible, and the three reporters
+present were full of inquisitiveness regarding
+the evidence given on the previous occasion,
+and listened with attention while it was being
+read over.</p>
+
+<p>Inspector Edwards, however, had dealt with
+them in his usually genial manner, and by the
+exercise of considerable diplomacy had succeeded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>
+in allaying their suspicions that there was any
+really good newspaper "story" in connection
+with it.</p>
+
+<p>The medical witnesses were recalled, but neither
+had anything to add to the depositions they had
+already made. The deceased had been fatally
+stabbed by a very keen knife with a blade of
+peculiar shape. That was all.</p>
+
+<p>The unknown had been buried, and all that remained
+in evidence was a bundle of blood-stained
+clothing, some articles of jewellery, a pair of
+boots, hat, coat, gloves, and a green leather
+vanity-bag.</p>
+
+<p>"Endeavours had been made, sir, to trace
+some of the articles worn by the deceased,
+and also to establish the laundry marks on the
+underclothing," the inspector went on, "but,
+unfortunately, the marks have been pronounced
+by experts to be foreign ones, and the whole
+of the young lady's clothes appear to have
+been made abroad&mdash;in France or Belgium, it
+is thought."</p>
+
+<p>"The laundry marks are foreign, eh?" remarked
+the coroner, peering at the witness through
+his pince-nez, and poising his pen in his hand.
+"Are you endeavouring to make inquiry abroad
+concerning them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Every inquiry is being made, sir, in a dozen
+cities on the continent. In fact, in all the
+capitals."</p>
+
+<p>"And the description of the deceased has been
+circulated?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. Photographs have been sent through
+all the channels in Europe. But up to the present
+we have met with no success," Edwards replied.
+"There is a suspicion because of a name upon a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>
+tab in the young girl's coat that she may be
+Italian. Hence the most ardent search is being
+made by the Italian authorities into the manner
+and descriptions of females lately reported as
+missing."</p>
+
+<p>"The affair seems remarkably curious," said the
+coroner. "It would certainly appear that the
+lady who lost her life was a stranger to
+London."</p>
+
+<p>"That is what we believe, sir," Edwards
+replied. Seated near him, I saw how keen and
+shrewd was the expression upon his face. "We
+have evidence that certain persons visited the
+flat on the night in question, but these have
+not yet been identified. The owner of the
+flat has not yet been found, he having
+absconded."</p>
+
+<p>"Gone abroad, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"It would appear so, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And his description has been circulated also?"
+asked the coroner.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a detailed description, together with a
+recent photograph," was Edwards' reply. Then
+he added: "We have received this at Scotland
+Yard, sir&mdash;an anonymous communication which
+may or may not throw considerable light on
+to the affair," and he handed a letter on blue
+paper to the coroner, which the latter perused
+curiously, afterwards passing it over to the foreman
+of the jury.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather remarkable!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>Then, when the jury had completed reading
+the anonymous letter, addressing them, he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"It is not for you, gentlemen, to regard that letter
+in the light of evidence, but, nevertheless, it raises<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>
+a very curious and mysterious point. The writer,
+as you will note, is prepared to reveal the truth of
+the whole affair in return for a monetary reward.
+It is, of course, a matter to be left entirely at the
+discretion of the police."</p>
+
+<p>I started at this statement, and gazed across
+the court&mdash;dull and cheerless on that cold
+winter's afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Who had written that anonymous letter? Who
+could it be who was ready to reveal the truth if paid
+for doing so?</p>
+
+<p>Was Phrida's terrible secret known?</p>
+
+<p>I held my breath, and listened to the slow, hard
+words of the coroner, as he again addressed some
+questions to the great detective.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," Edwards was saying. "There is
+distinct evidence of the presence at the flat on the
+night in question of some person&mdash;a woman
+whose identity we have not yet been successful
+in establishing. We, however, have formed a
+theory which certainly appears to be borne out
+by the writer of the letter I have just handed
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"That the unknown was struck down by the hand
+of a woman&mdash;eh?" asked the Coroner, looking
+sharply across at the Inspector, who briefly replied
+in the affirmative, while I sat staring straight before
+me, like a man in a dream.</p>
+
+<p>I heard the Coroner addressing the jury in hard,
+business-like tones, but I know not what he
+said. My heart was too full to think of anything
+else besides the peril of the one whom I
+loved.</p>
+
+<p>I know that the verdict returned by the jury
+was one of "Wilful murder." Then I went out into
+the fading light of that brief London day, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>
+seeking Edwards, walked at his side towards the
+busy Kensington High Street.</p>
+
+<p>We had not met for several days, and he, of
+course, had no knowledge of my visit to Brussels.
+Our greeting was a cordial one, whereupon I asked
+him what was contained in the anonymous letter
+addressed to "The Yard"?</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Mr. Royle. It's very curious," he said.
+"The Coroner has it at this moment, or I'd show it
+to you. The handwriting is a woman's, and it has
+been posted at Colchester."</p>
+
+<p>"At Colchester!" I echoed in dismay.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, why?" he asked, looking at me in
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing. Only&mdash;well, Colchester is a
+curious place for anyone to live who knows
+the truth about an affair in Kensington," was
+my reply, for fortunately I quickly recovered
+myself.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not Colchester as well as Clapham&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course," I laughed. "But, tell me,
+what does the woman say?"</p>
+
+<p>"She simply declares that she can elucidate the
+mystery and give us the correct clue&mdash;even bring
+evidence if required&mdash;as to the actual person who
+committed the crime, if we, on our part, will pay
+for the information."</p>
+
+<p>"And what shall you do?" I asked eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't exactly know. The letter only arrived
+this morning. To-morrow the Council of Seven
+will decide what action we take."</p>
+
+<p>"Does the woman give her name?" I asked
+with affected carelessness.</p>
+
+<p>"No. She only gives the name of 'G. Payne,'
+and the address as 'The G.P.O., London.' She's
+evidently a rather cute person."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"G. Payne"&mdash;the woman Petre without a
+doubt.</p>
+
+<p>I recollected her telegram asking me to meet her.
+She had said that something had "happened,"
+and she had urged me to see her as soon as
+possible. Was it because I had not replied that
+she had penned that anonymous letter to the
+police?</p>
+
+<p>The letter bore the Colchester post-mark, and
+she, I knew, lived at Melbourne House in that
+town.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you will get into communication with
+her," I exclaimed presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. Any line of action in the elucidation
+of the mystery is worth trying. But what I cannot
+quite understand is, why she requires blood-money,"
+remarked the detective as we strolled together in
+the arcaded entrance to the Underground Station
+at High Street, Kensington. "I always look
+askance at such letters. We receive many of
+them at the Yard. Not a single murder mystery
+comes before us, but we receive letters from
+cranks and others offering to point out the guilty
+person."</p>
+
+<p>"But may not the writers of such letters be
+endeavouring to fasten guilt upon perfectly
+innocent persons against whom they have spite?"
+I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! That's just it, Mr. Royle," exclaimed my
+companion gravely. "Yet it is so terribly difficult
+to discriminate, and I fear we often, in our hesitation,
+place aside letters, the writers of which could really
+give valuable information."</p>
+
+<p>"But in this case, what are your natural inclinations?"
+I asked. "I know that you possess a
+curious, almost unique, intuition as to what is fact<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>
+and what is fiction. What is, may I term it, your
+private opinion?"</p>
+
+<p>He halted against the long shop-windows of
+Derry &amp; Toms, and paused for several minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said at last in a deeply earnest
+tone, "I tell you frankly, Mr. Royle, what
+I believe. First, I don't think that the man
+Kemsley, although an impostor, was the actual
+assassin."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" I gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;I've very carefully studied the whole
+problem. I've looked at it from every point of
+view," he said. "I confess the one fact puzzles
+me, that this man Kemsley could live so long
+in London and pose as the dead Sir Digby if
+he were not the actual man himself, has
+amazed me! In his position as Sir Digby, the
+great engineer, he must have met in society
+many persons who knew him. We have evidence
+that he constantly moved in the best circles
+in Mayfair, and apparently without the slightest
+compunction. Yet, in contradiction, we have
+the remarkable fact that the real Sir Digby
+died in South America in very mysterious and
+tragic circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>I saw that a problem was presented to Inspector
+Edwards which sorely puzzled him, as it certainly
+did myself.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," I asked after a pause, and then with
+some trepidation put the question, "what do you
+intend doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Doing!" he echoed. "There is but one course
+to pursue. We must get in touch with this woman
+who says she knows the truth, and obtain what
+information we can from her. Perhaps she can
+reveal the identity of the woman whose fingers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
+touched that glass-topped table in the room where
+the crime was committed. If so, that will tell
+us a great deal, Mr. Royle." Then, taking a
+cigarette from his pocket and tapping it, he
+added, "Do you know, I've been wondering of
+late how it is that you got those finger-prints
+which so exactly corresponded with the ones
+which we secured in the flat. How did you
+obtain them?"</p>
+
+<p>His question non-plussed me.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a suspicion," I replied in a faltering voice,
+"and I tried to corroborate it."</p>
+
+<p>"But you have corroborated it," he declared.
+"Why, Mr. Royle, those prints you brought to the
+Yard are a most important clue. Where did you
+get them?"</p>
+
+<p>I was silent for a moment, jostled by the crowd
+of passers-by.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," I said with a faint smile, realising what a
+grave mistake I had made in inculpating my well-beloved,
+"I simply made some experiments as an
+amateur in solving the mystery."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but those prints were the same as
+those we got from the flat. Whence did they
+come?"</p>
+
+<p>"I obtained them upon my own initiative,"
+I replied, with a forced laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"But you must surely tell me, Mr. Royle,"
+he urged quickly. "It's a most important
+point."</p>
+
+<p>"No," I replied. "I'm not a detective, remember.
+I simply put to the test a suspicion I have entertained."</p>
+
+<p>"Suspicion of what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Whether my theory was correct or not."</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever theory you hold, Mr. Royle, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
+truth remains the same. I truly believe," he said,
+looking hard at me, "namely that the unknown
+victim was struck down by the hand which imprinted
+the marks you brought to me&mdash;a woman's hand.
+And if I am not mistaken, sir&mdash;you know the
+identity of the guilty woman!"</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>CONCERNS MRS. PETRE.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">Days</span>, weeks, passed, but I could obtain no further
+clue. The month of March lengthened into April,
+but we were as far as ever from a solution of the
+mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Since my return from Brussels I had, of course
+seen Phrida many, many times, and though I had
+never reverted again to the painful subject, yet her
+manner and bearing showed only too plainly that
+she existed in constant dread!</p>
+
+<p>Her face had become thin and haggard, with
+dark rings around her eyes and upon it was a wild,
+hunted expression, which she strove to disguise,
+but in vain.</p>
+
+<p>She now treated me with a strange, cold indifference,
+so unlike her real self, while her attitude
+was one of constant attention and strained
+alertness.</p>
+
+<p>The woman Petre had apparently not been approached
+by Scotland Yard, therefore as the days
+went by I became more and more anxious to see her,
+to speak with her&mdash;and, if necessary, to come to
+terms with her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Therefore, without a word to anyone, I one
+evening caught the six o'clock train from Liverpool
+Street, and before eight was eating my
+dinner in the big upstairs room of The Cups
+Hotel, while the hall-porter was endeavouring
+to discover for me the whereabouts of Melbourne
+House.</p>
+
+<p>I had nearly finished my meal when the uniformed
+servant entered, cap in hand, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"I've found, sir, that the house you've been inquiring
+for is out on the road to Marks Tey, about
+a mile. An old lady named Miss Morgan lived
+there for many years, but she died last autumn,
+and the place has, they say, been let furnished to
+a lady&mdash;a Mrs. Petre. Is that the lady you are
+trying to find?"</p>
+
+<p>"It certainly is," I replied, much gratified at the
+man's success. Then, placing a tip in his palm, I
+drank off my coffee, put on my overcoat, and
+descended to the taxi which he had summoned
+for me.</p>
+
+<p>He gave directions to the driver, and soon we were
+whirling along the broad streets of Colchester, and
+out of the town on the dark, open road which led
+towards London. Presently we pulled up, and
+getting out, I found myself before a long, low, ivy-covered
+house standing back behind a high hedge of
+clipped box, which divided the small, bare front
+garden from the road. Lonely and completely
+isolated, it stood on the top of a hill with high,
+leafless trees behind, and on the left a thick copse.
+In front were wide, bare, open fields.</p>
+
+<p>Opening the iron gate I walked up the gravelled
+path to the door and rang. In a window on the
+right a light showed, and as I listened I heard the
+tramp of a man's foot upon the oilcloth of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>
+hall, and next moment the door was unlocked
+and opened.</p>
+
+<p>A tall, thin-faced young man of somewhat sallow
+complexion confronted me. He had keen, deep-set
+eyes, broad forehead, and pointed chin.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mrs. Petre at home?" I inquired briefly.</p>
+
+<p>In a second he looked at me as though with
+distrust, then apparently seeing the taxi waiting,
+and satisfying himself that I was a person of respectability,
+he replied in a refined voice:</p>
+
+<p>"I really don't know, but I'll see, if you will step
+in?" and he ushered me into a small room at the
+rear of the house, a cosy but plainly-furnished little
+sitting-room, wherein a wood fire burned with
+pleasant glow.</p>
+
+<p>I handed him my card and sat down to wait, in
+the meanwhile inspecting my surroundings with
+some curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>Now, even as I recall that night, I cannot tell
+why I should have experienced such a sense of grave
+insecurity as I did when I sat there awaiting the
+woman's coming. I suppose we all of us possess
+in some degree that strange intuition of impending
+danger. It was so with me that night&mdash;just as I
+have on other occasions been obsessed by that
+curious, indescribable feeling that "something is
+about to happen."</p>
+
+<p>There was about that house an air of mystery
+which caused me to hesitate in suspicion. Whether
+it was owing to its lonely position, to the heavy mantle
+of ivy which hid its walls, to the rather weird and
+unusual appearance of the young man who had
+admitted me, or to the mere fact that I was there to
+meet the woman who undoubtedly knew the truth
+concerning the tragic affair, I know not. But I
+recollect a distinct feeling of personal insecurity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I knew the woman I was about to meet to be a
+cold, hard, unscrupulous person, who, no doubt,
+held my love's liberty&mdash;perhaps her life&mdash;in the
+hollow of her hand.</p>
+
+<p>That horrifying thought had just crossed my mind
+when my reflections were interrupted by the door
+opening suddenly and there swept into the room
+the lady upon whom I had called.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Mr. Royle!" she cried in warm welcome,
+extending her rather large hand as she stood
+before me, dressed quietly in black, relieved by a
+scarlet, artificial rose in her waistband. "So
+you've come at last. Ah! do you know I've
+wanted to meet you for days. I expected you
+would come to me the moment you returned from
+Brussels."</p>
+
+<p>I started, and stood staring at her without replying.
+She knew I had been to Belgium. Yet, as far as I
+was aware, nobody knew of my visit&mdash;not even
+Haines.</p>
+
+<p>"You certainly seem very well acquainted with
+my movements, Mrs. Petre," I laughed.</p>
+
+<p>But she only shrugged her shoulders. Then
+she said:</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose there was no secrecy regarding your
+journey, was there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not in the least," I replied. "I had business
+over there, as I very often have. My firm do a big
+business in Belgium and Holland."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>"Did your business necessitate your visiting
+all the hotels and music-halls?"</p>
+
+<p>"How did you know that?" I asked in quick
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>But she only pursed her lips, refusing to give me
+satisfaction. I saw that I must have been watched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>&mdash;perhaps
+by Digby himself. The only explanation
+I could think of was that he, with his clever
+cunning, had watched me, and had written to
+this woman, his accomplice, telling her of my
+search.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! don't betray the source of your information
+if you consider it so indiscreet," I said with sarcasm
+a few moments later. "I came here, Mrs. Petre,
+in response to your invitation. You wished to
+see me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did. But I fear it is now too late to avert
+what I had intended," was her quiet response.
+The door was closed, the room was silent, and we
+were alone.</p>
+
+<p>Seated in an armchair the woman leaned back
+and gazed at me strangely from beneath her long,
+half-closed lashes, as though undecided what she
+should say. I instantly detected her hesitation,
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>"You told me in your message that something
+unexpected had occurred. What is it? Does it
+concern our mutual friend, Digby?"</p>
+
+<p>"Friend!" she echoed. "You call him your
+friend, and yet at the same time you have been
+in search of him, intending to betray him to the
+police!"</p>
+
+<p>"Such was certainly not my intention," I declared
+firmly. "I admit that I have endeavoured to
+find him, but it was because I wished to speak
+with him."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! of course," she sneered. "That girl Shand
+has, perhaps, made a statement to you, and now you
+want to be inquisitive, eh? She's been trying to
+clear herself by telling you some fairy-tale or another,
+I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"I repeat, Mrs. Petre," I said with anger, "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>
+have no desire nor intention to act towards Digby
+in any way other than with friendliness."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! You expect me to believe that, my dear
+sir," she laughed, snapping her fingers airily. "No,
+that girl is his enemy, and I am hers."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is the reason why you have sent the
+anonymous letter to the police!" I said in a low,
+hard voice, my eyes full upon her.</p>
+
+<p>She started at my words.</p>
+
+<p>"What letter?" she asked, in pretence of
+ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>"The one mentioned at the adjourned inquest
+at Kensington," I replied. "The one in which you
+offer to sell the life of the woman I love!"</p>
+
+<p>"So you know she is guilty&mdash;eh?" the woman
+asked. "She has confessed it to you&mdash;has she
+not?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. She is innocent," I cried. "I will never
+believe in her guilt until it is proved."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it will not be long, Mr. Royle, before you
+will have quite sufficient proof," she replied with a
+triumphant smile upon her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"You are prepared to sell those proofs, I
+understand," I said, suddenly assuming an air
+of extreme gravity. "Now, I'm a business man.
+If you wish to dispose of this information,
+why not sell it to me?"</p>
+
+<p>She laughed in my face.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not to you, my dear sir. My business is
+with the police, not with the girl's lover," was her
+quick response.</p>
+
+<p>"But the price," I said. "I will outbid the police
+if necessary."</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt you would be only too glad of the
+chance of saving the girl who has so cleverly deceived
+you. But, without offence, Mr. Royle, I certainly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>
+think you are a fool to act as you are now acting,"
+she added. "A foul crime of jealousy has been
+committed, and the assassin must pay the penalty
+of her crime."</p>
+
+<p>"And you allege jealousy as the motive?"
+I gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Most certainly," she answered. Then, after a
+pause of a few seconds, she added&mdash;"The girl you
+have so foolishly trusted and in whom you still
+believe so implicitly, left her home in Cromwell
+Road in the night, as she had often done before,
+and walked round to Harrington Gardens in order
+to see Digby. There, in his rooms, she met her
+rival&mdash;she had suspicions and went there on purpose
+armed with a knife. And with it she struck the girl
+down, and killed her."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a lie!" I cried, starting to my feet. "A
+foul, wicked lie!"</p>
+
+<p>"But what I say can be proved."</p>
+
+<p>"At a price," I said bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"As you are a business man, so I am a business
+woman, Mr. Royle," she replied quite calmly.
+"When I see an opportunity of making money, I do
+not hesitate to seize it."</p>
+
+<p>"But if you know the truth&mdash;if this is the
+actual truth which at present I will not believe&mdash;then
+it is your duty, nay, you are bound by
+law to go to the police and tell them what you
+know."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall do that, never fear," she laughed. "But
+first I shall try and get something for my
+trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"And whom do you intend to bring up as witness
+against Miss Shand?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait and see. There will be a witness&mdash;an
+eye-witness, who was present, and whose evidence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>
+will be corroborated," she declared in due course
+with a self-satisfied air. "I have not resolved
+to reveal the truth without fully reviewing the
+situation. When the police know&mdash;as they certainly
+will&mdash;you will then find that I have not lied, and
+perhaps you will alter your opinion of the girl you
+now hold in such high esteem."</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>DISCLOSES THE TRAP.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">The</span> woman's words held me speechless.</p>
+
+<p>She seemed so cold, so determined, so certain of
+her facts that I felt, when I came to consider what
+I already had proved, that she was actually telling
+me the ghastly truth.</p>
+
+<p>And yet I loved Phrida. No. I refused to allow
+my suspicions to be increased by this woman who
+had approached the police openly and asked for
+payment for her information.</p>
+
+<p>She was Phrida's enemy. Therefore it was my
+duty to treat her as such, and in a moment I had
+decided upon my course of action.</p>
+
+<p>"So I am to take it that both Digby and yourself
+are antagonistic towards Phrida Shand?" I exclaimed,
+leaning against the round mahogany table
+and facing her.</p>
+
+<p>She did not speak for a few seconds, then,
+springing to her feet, exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Would you excuse me for a few seconds?
+I forgot to give an order to my servant who is just
+going out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And she bustled from the room, leaving me alone
+with my own confused thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! The puzzling problem was maddening me.
+In my investigations I now found myself in a
+cul-de-sac from which there seemed no escape.
+The net, cleverly woven without a doubt, was slowly
+closing about my poor darling, now so pale,
+and anxious, and trembling.</p>
+
+<p>Had she not already threatened to take her own
+life at first sign of suspicion being cast upon her by
+the police!</p>
+
+<p>Was that not in itself, alas! a sign that her secret
+was a guilty one?</p>
+
+<p>I knew not what to do, or how to act.</p>
+
+<p>I suppose my hostess had been absent for about
+five minutes when the door suddenly re-opened, and
+she entered.</p>
+
+<p>"When we were interrupted, Mrs. Petre," I said,
+as she advanced towards me, "I was asking you a
+plain question. Please give me a plain reply.
+You and Phrida Shand are enemies, are you
+not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we are not exactly friends," she laughed,
+"after all that has occurred. I think I told you
+that in London."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember all that you told me," I replied.
+"But I want to know the true position, if&mdash;whether
+we are friends, or enemies? For myself, it matters
+not. I will be your friend with just as great a
+satisfaction as I will be your enemy. Now, let us
+understand each other. I have told you, I'm a
+man of business."</p>
+
+<p>The woman, clever and resourceful, smiled sweetly,
+and in a calm voice replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Mr. Royle, I don't see why, after all,
+we should be enemies, that is, if what you tell me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>
+is the positive truth, that you owe my friend Digby
+no ill-will."</p>
+
+<p>"I owe no man ill-will until his perfidy is proved,"
+was my reply. "I merely went to Brussels to try
+and find him and request an explanation. He
+charged me with a mission which I discharged
+with the best of my ability, but which, it seems,
+has only brought upon me a grave calamity&mdash;the
+loss of the one I love. Hence I am entitled to some
+explanation from his own lips!"</p>
+
+<p>"Which I promise you that you shall have in
+due course. So rest assured upon that point,"
+she urged. "But that is in the future. We are,
+however, discussing the present. By the way&mdash;you'll
+take something to drink, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you," I protested.</p>
+
+<p>"But you must have something. I'm sorry I
+have no whisky to offer you, but I have some rather
+decent port," and disregarding my repeated protests,
+she rang the bell, whereupon the young man who
+had admitted me&mdash;whom I now found to my surprise
+to be a servant&mdash;entered and bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring some port," his mistress ordered, and a
+few moments later he reappeared with a decanter
+and glasses upon a silver tray.</p>
+
+<p>She poured me out a glass, but refused to have
+any herself.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," she laughed, "at my time of life port
+wine would only make me fat&mdash;and Heaven knows
+I'm growing horribly stout now. You don't know,
+Mr. Royle, what horror we women have of stoutness.
+In men it is a sign of ease and prosperity, in women
+it is suggestive of alcoholism and puts ten years on
+their ages."</p>
+
+<p>Out of politeness, I raised my glass to her and
+drank. Her demeanour had altered, and we were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>
+now becoming friends, a fact which delighted me,
+for I saw I might, by the exercise of a little judicious
+diplomacy, act so as to secure protection for Phrida.</p>
+
+<p>While we were chatting, I suddenly heard the
+engine of my taxi started, and the clutch put in
+with a jerk.</p>
+
+<p>"Why!" I exclaimed, surprised. "I believe
+that's my taxi going away. I hope the man isn't
+tired of waiting!"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I think it is my servant. I 'phoned for a
+cab for her, as I want her to take a message into
+Colchester," Mrs. Petre replied. Then, settling
+herself in the big chair, she asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, why can't we be friends, Mr. Royle?"</p>
+
+<p>"That I am only too anxious to be," I declared.</p>
+
+<p>"It is only your absurd infatuation for Phrida
+Shand that prevents you," she said. "Ah!" she
+sighed. "How grossly that girl has deceived you!"</p>
+
+<p>I bit my lip. My suspicions were surely bitter
+enough without the sore being re-opened by
+this woman.</p>
+
+<p>Had not Phrida's admissions been a self-condemnation
+to which, even though loving her
+as fervently as I did, I could not altogether
+blind myself.</p>
+
+<p>I did not speak. My heart was too full, and
+strangely enough my head seemed swimming, but
+certainly not on account of the wine I had drunk,
+for I had not swallowed more than half the
+glass contained.</p>
+
+<p>The little room seemed to suddenly become
+stifling. Yet that woman with the dark eyes
+seemed to watch me intently as I sat there, watch
+me with a strange, deep, evil glance&mdash;an expression
+of fierce animosity which even at that moment she
+could not conceal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She had openly avowed that the hand of my
+well-beloved had killed the unknown victim because
+of jealousy. Well, when I considered all the facts
+calmly and deliberately, her words certainly seemed
+to bear the impress of truth.</p>
+
+<p>Phrida had confessed to me that, rather than
+face inquiry and condemnation she would take
+her own life. Was not that in itself sufficient
+evidence of guilt?</p>
+
+<p>But no! I strove to put such thoughts behind
+me. My brain was awhirl, nay, even aflame, for
+gradually there crept over me a strange, uncanny
+feeling of giddiness such as I had never before
+experienced, a faint, sinking feeling, as though the
+chair was giving way beneath me.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know why, but I'm feeling rather
+unwell," I remarked to my hostess. Surely it could
+not be due to my overwrought senses and my
+strained anxiety for Phrida's safety.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Perhaps it's the heat of the room," the
+woman replied. "This place gets unpleasantly
+warm at night. You'll be better in a minute or two,
+no doubt. I'll run and get some smelling salts.
+It is really terribly close in here," and, rising quickly,
+she left me alone.</p>
+
+<p>I remember that instantly she had disappeared
+a red mist gathered before my eyes, and with a
+fearful feeling of asphyxiation I struggled violently,
+and fell back exhausted into my chair, while my
+limbs grew suddenly icy cold, though my brow
+was burning.</p>
+
+<p>To what could it be due?</p>
+
+<p>I recollect striving to think, to recall facts, to
+reason within myself, but in vain. My thoughts
+were so confused that grim, weird shadows and
+grotesque forms arose within my imagination.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
+Scenes, ludicrous and tragic, wildly fantastic and yet
+horrible, were conjured up in my disordered brain,
+and with them all, pains&mdash;excruciating pains, which
+shot through from the sockets of my eyes to the back
+of my skull, inflicting upon me tortures indescribable.</p>
+
+<p>I set my teeth in determination not to lose consciousness
+beneath the strain, and my eyes were
+fixed upon the wall opposite. I remember now the
+exact pattern of the wallpaper, a design of pale
+blue trellis-work with crimson rambler roses.</p>
+
+<p>I suppose I must have remained in that position,
+sunk into a heap in the chair, for fully five
+minutes, though to me it seemed hours when I
+suddenly became conscious of the presence of persons
+behind me.</p>
+
+<p>I tried to move&mdash;to turn and look&mdash;but found that
+every muscle in my body had become paralysed.
+I could not lift a finger, neither would my lips
+articulate any sound other than a gurgle when I
+tried to cry out. And yet I remained in a state of
+consciousness, half blotted out by those weird,
+fantastic and dreamy shapes, due apparently to
+the effect of that wine upon my brain.</p>
+
+<p>Had I been deliberately poisoned? The startling
+truth flashed across my mind just as I heard a low
+stealthy movement behind me.</p>
+
+<p>Yes. I was helpless there, in the hands of my
+enemies. I, wary as I believed myself to be, had
+fallen into a trap cunningly prepared by that clever
+woman who was Digby's accomplice.</p>
+
+<p>I now believed all that Edwards had told me
+of the man's cunning and his imposture. How
+that he had assumed the identity of a clever and
+renowned man who had died so mysteriously in
+South America. Perhaps he had killed him&mdash;who
+could tell?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As these bitter thoughts regarding the man whom
+I had looked upon as a friend flitted through my
+brain, I saw to my amazement, standing boldly
+before me, the woman Petre with two men, one
+a dark-bearded, beetle-browed, middle-aged man of
+Hindu type&mdash;a half-caste probably&mdash;while the other
+was the young man who had admitted me.</p>
+
+<p>The Hindu bent until his scraggy whiskers almost
+touched my cheek, looking straight into my eyes
+with keen, intent gaze, but without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>I saw that the young man had carried a small
+deal box about eighteen inches square, which he
+had placed upon the round mahogany table in the
+centre of the room.</p>
+
+<p>This table the woman pushed towards my chair
+until I was seated before it. But she hardly gave
+me a glance.</p>
+
+<p>I tried to speak, to inquire the reason of such
+strange proceedings, but it seemed that the drug
+which had been given me in that wine had produced
+entire muscular paralysis. I could not move,
+neither could I speak. My brain was on fire and
+swimming, yet I remained perfectly conscious,
+horrified to find myself so utterly and entirely
+helpless.</p>
+
+<p>The sallow-faced man, in whose black eyes was an
+evil, murderous look, and upon whose thin lips
+there played a slight, but triumphant smile, took
+both my arms and laid them straight upon the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>I tried with all my power to move them, but to
+no purpose. As he placed them, so they remained.</p>
+
+<p>Then, for the first time, the woman spoke, and
+addressing me, said in a hard, harsh tone:</p>
+
+<p>"You are Digby's enemy, and mine, Mr. Royle.
+Therefore you will now see the manner in which we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>
+treat those who endeavour to thwart our ends.
+You have been brave, but your valour has not
+availed you much. The secret of Digby Kemsley
+is still a secret&mdash;and will ever be a secret," she
+added in a slow, meaning voice.</p>
+
+<p>And as she uttered those words the half-bred
+Indian took my head in his hands and forced my
+body forward until my head rested upon the table
+between my outstretched arms.</p>
+
+<p>Again I tried to raise myself, and to utter protest,
+but only a low gurgling escaped my parched lips.
+My jaws were set and I could not move them.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! the situation was the strangest in which
+I have ever found myself in all my life.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, while my head lay upon the polished
+table I saw the Hindu put a short double-reed pipe
+to his mouth, and next instant the room was filled
+with weird, shrill music, while at the same moment
+he unfastened the side of the little box and let down
+the hinged flap.</p>
+
+<p>Again the native music sounded more shrill
+than before, while the woman and the young man-servant
+had retreated backward towards the door,
+their eyes fixed upon the mysterious box upon
+the table.</p>
+
+<p>I, too, had my eyes upon the box.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly I caught sight of something within, and
+next second held my breath, realising the horrible
+torture that was intended.</p>
+
+<p>I lay there helpless, powerless to draw back
+and save myself.</p>
+
+<p>Again the sounds of the pipe rose and then died
+away slowly in a long drawn-out wail.</p>
+
+<p>My eyes were fixed upon that innocent-looking
+little box in horror and fascination.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! Something moved again within.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I saw it&mdash;saw it quite plainly.</p>
+
+<p>I tried to cry out&mdash;to protest, to shout for help.
+But in vain.</p>
+
+<p>Surely this woman's vengeance was indeed a
+fiendish and relentless one.</p>
+
+<p>My face was not more than a foot away from the
+mysterious box, and when I fully realised, in my
+terror, what was intended, I think my brain must
+have given way.</p>
+
+<p>I became insane!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SEAL OF SILENCE.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">Yes</span>, there was no doubt about it. Terror and
+horror had driven me mad.</p>
+
+<p>And surely the deadly peril in which I found
+myself was in itself sufficient to cause the cheek of
+the bravest man to pale, for from that box there
+slowly issued forth a large, hideous cobra, which,
+coiling with sinuous slowness in front of my face
+held its hooded head erect, ready to strike.</p>
+
+<p>While the Hindu played that weird music on the
+pipes its head with the two beady eyes and flickering
+tongue, moved slowly to and fro. It was watching
+me and ready to deal its fatal blow.</p>
+
+<p>The woman saw the perspiration standing upon
+my white brow, and burst out laughing, still standing
+at a safe distance near the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Mr. Royle, you won't have much further
+opportunity of investigation," she exclaimed. "You
+have become far too inquisitive, and you constitute
+a danger&mdash;hence this action. I'm very sorry, but
+it must be so," declared the brutal, inhuman woman.</p>
+
+<p>She was watching, gloating over her triumph;
+waiting, indeed, for my death.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Surely I was not their first victim! All had been
+carried out in a method which showed that the paralysing
+drug and the deadly reptile had been used
+before by this strange trio.</p>
+
+<p>The music, now being played incessantly, apparently
+prevented the snake from darting at me,
+as it was, no doubt, under the hypnotic influence of
+its master. But I knew that the moment the
+music ceased it would be my last.</p>
+
+<p>With frantic efforts I struggled to withdraw
+my head and hands from the reptile's reach, but
+every muscle seemed powerless. I could not
+budge an inch.</p>
+
+<p>Again I tried to speak, to shout for help, but no
+word could I articulate. I was dead in all save
+consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," laughed Mrs. Petre hoarsely; "we're
+just playing you a little music&mdash;to send you to
+sleep&mdash;to put the seal of silence upon you, Mr.
+Royle. And I hope you'll sleep very well to-night&mdash;very
+well&mdash;as no doubt you will!" and she gave
+vent to a loud peal of harsh laughter.</p>
+
+<p>Then, for a moment she hesitated, until suddenly
+she cried to the Hindu:</p>
+
+<p>"Enough!"</p>
+
+<p>The music ceased instantly, and the snake, whose
+hooded head had been swaying to and fro slowly,
+suddenly shot up erect.</p>
+
+<p>The spell of the music was broken, and I knew
+my doom was sealed.</p>
+
+<p>Those small, brilliant eyes were fastened upon
+mine, staring straight at me, the head moving very
+slowly, while those three brutes actually watched
+my agony of terror, and exchanged smiles as they
+waited for the reptile to strike its fatal blow.</p>
+
+<p>In an instant its fangs would, I knew, be in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>
+my face, and into my blood would be injected
+that deadly venom which must inevitably prove
+fatal.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, I had been entrapped, and they held the
+honours in the game. After my death Phrida
+would be denounced, accused, and convicted as an
+assassin. Because, perhaps, I might be a witness in
+her favour, or even assist her to escape arrest, this
+woman had taken the drastic step of closing my
+lips for ever.</p>
+
+<p>But was it with Digby's knowledge? Had he
+ever been her accomplice in similar deeds to this?</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly I recollected with a start what Edwards
+had told me&mdash;that the real Sir Digby Kemsley, an
+invalid, had died of snake-bite in mysterious circumstances,
+in Peru; and that his friend, a somewhat
+shady Englishman named Cane, had been suspected
+of placing the reptile near him, owing to the shouts
+of terror of the doomed man being overheard by a
+Peruvian man-servant.</p>
+
+<p>Was it possible that the man whom I had known
+as Digby was actually Cane?</p>
+
+<p>The method of the snake was the same as that
+practised at Huacho!</p>
+
+<p>These, and other thoughts, flashed across my
+brain in an instant, for I knew that the agony of a
+fearful death would be quickly upon me.</p>
+
+<p>I tried to utter a curse upon those three brutes
+who stood looking on without raising a hand to save
+me, but still I could not speak.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, something black shot across my startled
+eyes. The reptile had darted.</p>
+
+<p>The horror of that moment held me transfixed.</p>
+
+<p>I felt a sharp sting upon my left cheek, and next
+instant, petrified by a terror indescribable, I lost
+consciousness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>What happened afterwards I have no idea. I
+can only surmise.</p>
+
+<p>How long I remained senseless I cannot tell. All
+I am aware of is that when I returned to a knowledge
+of things about me I had a feeling that my
+limbs were benumbed and cramped. Against my
+head was a cold, slimy wall, and my body was lying
+in water.</p>
+
+<p>For a time, dazed as I was, I could not distinguish
+my position. My thoughts were all confused; all
+seemed pitch darkness, and the silence was complete
+save for the slow trickling of water somewhere near
+my head.</p>
+
+<p>I must have lain there a full hour, slowly gathering
+my senses. The back of my head was very sore,
+for it seemed as though I had received a heavy
+blow, while my elbows and knees seemed cut
+and bruised.</p>
+
+<p>In the close darkness I tried to discover where I
+was, but my brain was swimming with an excruciating
+pain in the top of my skull.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly, very slowly, recollections of the past came
+back to me&mdash;remembrance of that terrible, final
+half-hour.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, Joy! I was still alive; the loathsome
+reptile's fang had not produced death. It may
+have bitten some object and evacuated its venom
+just prior to biting me. That was the theory
+which occurred to me, and I believe it to be the
+correct one.</p>
+
+<p>I could raise my hand, too. I was no longer
+paralysed. I could speak. I shouted, but my
+voice seemed deadened and stifled.</p>
+
+<p>On feeling my head I found that I had a long
+scalp-wound, upon which the blood was congealed.
+My clothes were rent, and as I groped about I quickly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>
+found that my prison was a circular wall of stone,
+wet and slimy, about four feet across, and that I
+was half reclining in water with soft, yielding mud
+beneath me, while the air seemed close and foul.</p>
+
+<p>The roof above me seemed high, for my voice
+appeared to ascend very far. I looked above me
+and high up, so high that I could only just distinguish
+it was a tiny ray of light&mdash;the light of day.</p>
+
+<p>With frantic fingers I felt those circular walls,
+thick with the encrustations and slime of ages. Then
+all of a sudden the truth flashed upon me. My
+enemies, believing me dead, had thrown me down
+a well!</p>
+
+<p>I shouted and shouted, yelled again and again.
+But my voice only echoed high up, and no one
+came to my assistance.</p>
+
+<p>My legs, immersed as they were in icy-cold water,
+were cramped and benumbed, so that I had no
+feeling in them, while my hands were wet and cold,
+and my head hot as fire.</p>
+
+<p>As far as I could judge in the darkness, the well
+must have been fully eighty feet or so deep, and
+after I had been flung headlong down it the wooden
+trap-door had been re-closed. It was through the
+chink between the two flaps that I could see the
+blessed light of day.</p>
+
+<p>I shouted again, yelling with all my might:
+"Help! Help!" in the hope that somebody in
+the vicinity might hear me and investigate.</p>
+
+<p>I was struggling in order to shift into a more
+comfortable position, and in doing so my feet sank
+deeper into the mud at the bottom of the well&mdash;the
+accumulation of many years, no doubt.</p>
+
+<p>Two perils faced me&mdash;starvation, or the rising of
+the water: for if it should rain above, the water
+percolating through the earth would cause it to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>
+rise in the well and overwhelm me. By the dampness
+of the wall I could feel that it was not long
+since the water was much higher than my head, as
+I now stood upright.</p>
+
+<p>Would assistance come?</p>
+
+<p>My heart sank within me when I thought of the
+possibility that I had been precipitated into the
+well in the garden of Melbourne House, in which
+case I could certainly not hope for succour.</p>
+
+<p>Again I put out my hands, frantically groping
+about me, when something I touched in the darkness
+caused me to withdraw my hand with a start.</p>
+
+<p>Cautiously I felt again. My eager fingers touched
+it, for it seemed to be floating on the surface of
+the water. It was cold, round, and long&mdash;the body
+of a snake!</p>
+
+<p>I drew my hand away. Its contact thrilled me.</p>
+
+<p>The cobra had been killed and flung in after
+me! In that case the precious trio had, without a
+doubt, fled.</p>
+
+<p>Realisation of the utter hopelessness of the situation
+sent a cold shudder through me. I had miraculously
+escaped death by the snake's fangs, and was
+I now to die of starvation deep in that narrow
+well?</p>
+
+<p>Again and again I shouted with all my might,
+straining my eyes to that narrow chink which
+showed so far above. Would assistance never come?
+I felt faint and hungry, while my wounds gave me
+considerable pain, and my head throbbed so that
+I felt it would burst at any moment.</p>
+
+<p>I found a large stone in the mud, and with it
+struck hard against the wall. But the sound was
+not such as might attract the attention of anybody
+who happened to be near the vicinity of the well.
+Therefore I shouted and shouted again until my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>
+voice grew hoarse, and I was compelled to desist
+on account of my exhaustion.</p>
+
+<p>For fully another half-hour I was compelled to
+remain in impatience and anxiety in order to recover
+my voice and strength for, weak as I was, the exertion
+had almost proved too much for me. So I stood
+there with my back to the slimy wall, water reaching
+beyond my knees, waiting and hoping against
+hope.</p>
+
+<p>At last I shouted again, as loudly as before, but,
+alas! only the weird echo came back to me in the
+silence of that deeply-sunk shaft. I felt stifled, but,
+fortunately for me, the air was not foul.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, my assassins had hidden me, together with
+the repulsive instrument of their crime, in that disused
+well, confident that no one would descend to
+investigate and discover my remains. How many
+persons, I wonder, are yearly thrown down wells
+where the water is known to be impure, or where
+the existence of the well itself is a secret to all but
+the assassin?</p>
+
+<p>I saw it all now. My taxi-man must have been
+paid and dismissed by that thin-faced young man,
+yet how cleverly the woman had evaded my question,
+and how glib her explanation of her servant going
+into the town in a taxi.</p>
+
+<p>When she had risen from her chair and left me,
+it was, no doubt, to swiftly arrange how my death
+should be encompassed.</p>
+
+<p>Surely that isolated, ivy-covered house was a
+house of grim shadows&mdash;nay, a house of death&mdash;for
+I certainly was not the first person who had been
+foully done to death within its walls.</p>
+
+<p>As I waited, trying to possess myself with patience,
+and hoping against hope that I might still be rescued
+from my living tomb, the little streak of light grew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>
+brighter high above, as though the wintry sun was
+shining.</p>
+
+<p>I strained my ears to catch any sound beyond the
+slow trickling of the water from the spring, but,
+alas! could distinguish nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, however, I heard a dull report above,
+followed quickly by a second, and then another in
+the distance, and another. At first I listened much
+puzzled; but next moment I realised the truth.</p>
+
+<p>There was a shooting-party in the vicinity!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+
+<h3>FROM THE TOMB.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">Again</span> I shouted&mdash;yelled aloud with all my might.
+I placed my hands to my mouth, making a trumpet
+of them, and shouted upwards:</p>
+
+<p>"Help! For God's sake! Help! I'm down
+here&mdash;dying! Help!&mdash;<i>Help!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>A dozen times I yelled my appeal, but with the
+same negative result. Whoever had fired in the
+vicinity was either too far away, or too occupied
+with his sport to hear me.</p>
+
+<p>I heard another shot fired&mdash;more distant than
+the rest. Then my heart sank within me&mdash;the party
+were receding.</p>
+
+<p>I don't know how long I waited&mdash;perhaps another
+hour&mdash;when I thought I would try again. Therefore
+I recommenced my shouts for assistance, yelling
+frantically towards the high-up opening.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the streak of light became obscured, and
+dust and gravel fell upon me, the latter striking
+my head with great force from such a height.</p>
+
+<p>I heard a noise above&mdash;a footstep upon the wooden
+flap of the well. My heart gave a bound.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Help!" I yelled. "Open the well! I'm down
+here&mdash;dying. Save me! Fetch assistance!"</p>
+
+<p>The feet above moved, and a moment later I saw
+above me a round disc of daylight and a head&mdash;a
+girl's head&mdash;silhouetted within it.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's there?" she asked in a timid, half-frightened
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"It's me!" I cried. "Get me out of this! I'm
+dying. Get me a rope or something, quickly!"</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" asked the girl, still frightened
+at her discovery.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a man who's been thrown down here, and I
+can't get out. Get somebody to help me, I beg
+of you!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" she replied. "There's some men,
+shooting here. I'll run and tell them."</p>
+
+<p>And her face disappeared from the disc of daylight.</p>
+
+<p>At last! Help was forthcoming, and I breathed
+more freely.</p>
+
+<p>I suppose about five minutes must have elapsed
+before I saw above me the heads of two men in
+golf-caps, peering over the edge of the well.</p>
+
+<p>"Hulloa!" cried one in a refined voice, "what
+are you doing down there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Doing!" I echoed, "you should come down
+and see!" I said with some sarcasm. "But, I
+say! Send me down a rope, will you? I'm a
+prisoner here."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you been thrown in there?" asked the
+voice. "This lady says you have."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I have. I'll tell you a strange story when
+you get me out."</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" exclaimed the other. "Hold on!
+We'll go over to the farm and get a rope. Why, I
+was here half-an-hour ago, and never dreamt you
+were down there. Hold on!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And the two faces disappeared, their places being
+taken by the silhouette of the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"I say!" I cried. "Where am I? What do they
+call this place?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, this is one of the fields of Coppin's Farm,
+just outside Lexden Park."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know Melbourne House?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. Miss Morgan's. She's dead," replied
+the girl's voice from above. "It's out on the high
+road&mdash;close by."</p>
+
+<p>"Is this well in the middle of a field, then?"
+I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"In the corner. Some old, half-ruined cottages
+stood here till a couple of years ago, when they were
+pulled down."</p>
+
+<p>"And this was the well belonging to them?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so," she replied, and a few minutes
+later I heard voices and saw several heads peering
+down at me, while now and then gravel fell upon
+my unprotected head, causing me to put my hands
+up to protect it.</p>
+
+<p>"I say!" cried the man's voice who had first
+addressed me, "We're sending down a rope. Can
+you fasten it round you, and then we'll haul you
+up? I expect you're in a pretty state, aren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I'm not very presentable, I fear," I
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>Then down came a stout farmer's rope, several
+lengths of which were knotted together after some
+delay, until its end dangled before me.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you've joined it all right," I cried. "I
+don't want to drop down!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it's all right!" one of the men&mdash;evidently
+a labourer&mdash;declared. "You needn't fear, mister."</p>
+
+<p>I made a knot in the end, then, placing it around
+both my thighs, made a slip knot and clung to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>
+rope above. This took me some minutes. Then,
+when all was ready, I gave the signal to haul.</p>
+
+<p>"Slowly!" I shouted, for I was swinging from
+side to side of the well, bruising my elbows and
+knees. "Haul slower! I'm getting smashed to
+pieces!"</p>
+
+<p>They heeded me, and with care I was gradually
+drawn up to the blessed light of day&mdash;a light which,
+for a few minutes, nearly blinded me, so exhausted
+and dazed was I.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally I was beset by a hundred queries as to
+how I came to be imprisoned in such a place.</p>
+
+<p>But I sat down upon the ground, a strange,
+begrimed and muddy figure, no doubt, gazing about
+me for a few moments unable to speak.</p>
+
+<p>I was in the corner of a bare, brown field, with a
+high hedgerow close by. Around were the foundations
+of demolished cottages, and I was seated upon
+a heap of brick-rubbish and plaster.</p>
+
+<p>The two who were dressed in rough, shooting kit
+I took to be military men, while three others were
+farm-hands, and the girl&mdash;a tall, rather good-looking
+open-air girl, was dressed in a short, tweed skirt,
+well-cut, a thick jacket, a soft felt hat, and heavy,
+serviceable boots. No second glance was needed
+to show that, although so roughly dressed, she was
+undoubtedly a lady.</p>
+
+<p>One of the men called her Maisie, and later I knew
+that her name was Maisie Morrice, that she was his
+sister, who had been walking with the "guns."</p>
+
+<p>My presence down the well certainly needed
+explanation, and as they had rescued me, it was
+necessary to satisfy their natural curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a curious adventure here last night," I
+told them, after pausing to take breath. "I came
+from London to see a lady living at Melbourne House.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>
+A lady named Petre&mdash;but I was given some drugged
+wine, and&mdash;well, when I came to I found myself
+down there. That's all."</p>
+
+<p>"A very unpleasant experience, I should say,"
+remarked the elder of the two sportsmen, a tall,
+grey-moustached man, as he surveyed me. "I
+suppose you'll go back to Melbourne House and get
+even with the lady? I would!"</p>
+
+<p>"Melbourne House!" echoed the other man.
+"Why, Maisie, that's where old Miss Morgan lived,
+and it's been taken by some woman with an Indian
+servant, hasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied the girl. "She's been there a
+month or two, but quite a mystery. Nobody has
+called on her. Mother wouldn't let me."</p>
+
+<p>"Apparently she's not a very desirable acquaintance,"
+remarked her brother grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to go there," I said feebly, trying
+to rise.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to have hurt your head pretty badly,"
+remarked the elder sportsman. "I suppose you'd
+better go into Colchester and see the police&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll drive him in, sir," volunteered one of the
+men, whom I took to be the farmer.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. Cuppin," exclaimed the girl. "Get
+your trap and drive this gentleman to the doctor
+and the police."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," I replied. "But I don't want the
+people at Melbourne House to know that I'm alive.
+They believe me dead, and it will be a pretty surprise
+for them when I return, after seeing the doctor. So
+I ask you all to remain silent about this affair&mdash;at
+least for an hour or so. Will you?"</p>
+
+<p>They all agreed to do so, and, being supported
+by two of the men, I made my way across the field<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>
+to the farm; and ten minutes later was driving
+into Colchester in the farmer's dog-cart.</p>
+
+<p>At the "Cups" my appearance caused some sensation,
+but, ascending to my room, I quickly washed,
+changed my ruined suit, and made myself presentable,
+and then went to see an elderly and rather
+fussy doctor, who put on his most serious professional
+air, and who was probably the most renowned
+medical man in the town. The provincial medico,
+when he becomes a consultant, nearly always
+becomes pompous and egotistical, and in his own
+estimation is the only reliable man out of Harley
+Street.</p>
+
+<p>The man I visited was one of the usual type, a
+man of civic honours, with the aspirations of a
+mayoralty, I surmised. I think he believed that
+I had injured my head while in a state of intoxication,
+so I did not undeceive him, and allowed his assistant
+to bathe and bandage my wound and also the bite
+upon my cheek, while the farmer waited outside
+for me.</p>
+
+<p>When at last I emerged, I hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>Should I go to the police and tell them what had
+occurred? Or should I return alone to Melbourne
+House, and by my presence thwart whatever sinister
+plans might be in progress.</p>
+
+<p>If I went to the police I would be forced to explain
+much that I desired, at least for the present, to
+keep secret. And, after all, the local police could
+not render me much assistance. I might give the
+woman and her accomplices in charge for attempted
+murder, but would such course help in the solution
+of the Harrington Gardens affair?</p>
+
+<p>After a few moments' reflection I decided to drive
+straight to the house of shadows and demand an
+explanation of the dastardly attempt upon me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A quarter of an hour later Mr. Cuppin pulled up
+near the long, ivy-covered house, and, alighting, I
+made my way within the iron gate and up the
+gravelled path to the front door, where I rang.</p>
+
+<p>I listened attentively, and heard someone moving.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, the house was not empty, as I had
+half feared.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later a neat maid-servant opened the
+door, and regarded me with some surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mrs. Petre at home?" I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, she isn't," replied the girl with a strong
+East Anglian accent.</p>
+
+<p>"When will she be in?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I really don't know, sir," she said. "She hasn't
+left word where she's gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Is anyone else at home?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"How long have you been with Mrs. Petre?" I
+asked, adding, in an apologetic tone, "I hope I'm
+not too inquisitive?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've been here about two months&mdash;ever since
+she took the house."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think your mistress a rather curious
+person?" I asked, slipping half-a-sovereign into
+her hand. She regarded the coin, and then
+looked at me with a smile of surprise and satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I hardly know what you mean, sir," she
+faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll be quite frank with you," I said. "I'm
+anxious to know something about what company
+she keeps here. Last night, for instance, a gentleman
+called in a taxi. Did you see him?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," she answered. "Mistress sent me out
+on an errand to the other side of the town, and when
+I came back just before half-past eleven I found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>
+the front door ajar, and everybody gone. And
+nobody's been back here since."</p>
+
+<p>After disposing of my body, then, the precious
+trio had fled.</p>
+
+<p>I knew that Phrida must now be in hourly peril
+of arrest&mdash;for that woman would, now that she believed
+me dead, lose not an instant in making a
+damning statement to the police regarding what
+had occurred on that night in Harrington Gardens.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+
+<h3>RECORDS A STRANGE STATEMENT.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2">"<span class="smcap">Will</span> you permit me to come inside a moment?"
+I asked the girl. "I want you to tell me one or
+two things, if you will."</p>
+
+<p>At first she hesitated, but having surveyed me
+critically and finding, I suppose, that I was not a
+tramp she opened the door wider and admitted me
+to the room wherein her mistress had entertained
+me on the previous night.</p>
+
+<p>I glanced quickly around. Yes, nothing had been
+altered. There was the chair in which I had sat,
+and the round, mahogany table upon which my head
+had laid so helplessly while the reptile, charmed by
+the Hindu's music, had sat erect with swaying head.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! as that terrible scene again arose before
+my eyes I stood horrified. The girl noticed my
+demeanour, and looked askance at me.</p>
+
+<p>"Does your mistress have many visitors?" I
+asked her. "To tell you the truth, I'm making
+these confidential inquiries on behalf of an insurance
+company in London. So you can be perfectly open
+with me. Mrs. Petre will never know that you
+have spoken."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir," replied the dark-eyed maid, after
+a pause, during which time she twisted her dainty
+little apron in her hand, "I suppose I really ought
+not to say anything, but the fact is mistress acts
+very curiously sometimes. Besides, I don't like Ali."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean the Indian?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He's too crafty and cunning," she replied.
+"Sometimes in the middle of the night I wake up
+and hear Ali, shut up in his room, playing on his
+flute&mdash;such horrible music. And on such occasions
+the mistress and Horton, the man, are usually with
+him&mdash;listening to his concert, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"On those occasions, have there been guests in
+the house?" I asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Once, I think about a fortnight ago, a gentleman
+had called earlier in the evening. But I did not
+see him."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see him next morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; he did not stay the night."</p>
+
+<p>"But on this particular occasion, how did you
+know that Mrs. Petre and Horton were in the
+room with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I listened from the top of the stairs,
+and could hear voices. The gentleman was in
+there too, I believe, listening to the noise of
+Ali's pipes."</p>
+
+<p>Had the stranger fallen a victim to the serpent,
+I wondered?</p>
+
+<p>Who could he have been, and what was his fate?</p>
+
+<p>"Has your mistress and her two servants left
+you suddenly like this before?" I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Never, sir. I can't make it out. They seem
+to have gone out with the gentleman who called&mdash;and
+evidently they left all of a hurry."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because when I got back I found that my mistress<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>
+had pulled out the first coat and hat she could find,
+and had not taken even a handbag. Besides, if
+she knew she was to be absent she would have left
+me a note." And she added in a tone of resentment: "It
+isn't fair to leave me by myself in a
+lonely house like this!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it isn't," I agreed. "But, tell me, does
+your mistress have many callers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very few. She has had a visitor lately&mdash;a
+gentleman. He stayed a few days, and then left
+suddenly."</p>
+
+<p>"Young or old?"</p>
+
+<p>"Elderly, clean-shaven, and grey hair. She used
+to call him Digby."</p>
+
+<p>"Digby!" I echoed. "When was he here? Tell
+me quickly!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, about four days ago, I think. Yes&mdash;he
+went away last Sunday night."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me all about him," I urged her. "He's a
+friend of mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, then perhaps I ought not to say anything,"
+said the girl a little confused.</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary, you will be doing me the very
+greatest service if you tell me all that you know
+concerning him," I declared. "Don't think that
+anything you say will annoy me, for it won't. He
+was my friend, but he served me a very evil trick."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir," she replied, "he arrived here very
+late one night, and my mistress sat with him in the
+drawing-room nearly all night talking to him. I
+crept down to try and hear what was going on, but
+they were speaking so low, almost whispering, so
+that I could catch only a few words."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you hear?" I inquired breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, from what I could gather the gentleman
+was in some grave danger&mdash;something to do with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>
+a girl. Mistress seemed very excited and talked
+about another girl, which she called Freda, or something
+like that, and then the gentleman mentioned
+somebody named Royle, whereon mistress seemed
+to fly into a passion. I heard her say distinctly,
+'You are a fool, Digby! If you're not very careful
+you'll give the game away.' Then he said, 'If the
+truth comes out, she will suffer, not me.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Whom did you infer he meant by she?" I
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, sir, that's impossible to say," was her
+response. "Well, they were alone there for hours.
+He seemed to be begging her to tell him something,
+but she steadily refused. And every time he
+mentioned the name of Royle she became angry
+and excited. Once I heard her say, 'As long as
+you keep carefully out of the way, you need not
+fear anything. Nobody&mdash;not even the girl&mdash;suspects
+the truth. So I don't see that you need have the
+slightest apprehension. But mind, you're going to
+play the straight game with me, Digby, or, by
+heaven! it will be the worse for you!'"</p>
+
+<p>"Then she threatened him?" I remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. She seemed very determined and spoke
+in a low, hard voice. Of course, I could only catch
+a few disjointed words, and out of them I tried
+to make sense. But I overheard sufficient to
+know that the visitor was in a state of great agitation
+and fear."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he go out much?"</p>
+
+<p>"All the time he was here I never knew him to
+go further than the garden," said the maid, who
+seemed to be unusually intelligent.</p>
+
+<p>"What about Ali?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ali was his constant companion. When they
+were together they spoke in some foreign language."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A sudden thought flashed across my mind.</p>
+
+<p>Could Ali be a Peruvian Indian and not a Hindu?
+Was he the accomplice of the mysterious Englishman
+named Cane&mdash;the man suspected of causing the
+death of Sir Digby Kemsley?</p>
+
+<p>What this girl was revealing was certainly
+amazing.</p>
+
+<p>"You are quite sure that this man she called
+Digby left the neighbourhood last Sunday?" I
+asked her.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite. I overheard him speaking with the
+mistress late on Saturday night. He said, 'By this
+time to-morrow I shall be back in Brussels.' And I
+know he went there, for next day I posted a letter
+to Brussels."</p>
+
+<p>"To him?" I cried. "What was the address?"</p>
+
+<p>"The name was Bryant, and it was addressed
+Poste Restante, Brussels. I remember it, because
+I carefully made a note of it, as the whole affair
+seemed so extraordinary."</p>
+
+<p>"But this man she called Digby. Was he well-dressed?"
+I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no&mdash;not at all. He seemed poor and
+shabby. He only had with him a little handbag,
+but I believe he came from a considerable distance,
+probably from abroad, expressly to see her."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you think he is in Brussels now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I posted the letter on Monday night.
+To-day is Wednesday," she said.</p>
+
+<p>I reflected. My first impulse was to go straight
+to Brussels and send a message to Mr. Bryant at
+the Poste Restante&mdash;a message that would trap him
+into an appointment with me.</p>
+
+<p>But in face of Phrida's present peril could I
+possibly leave London?</p>
+
+<p>I was at the parting of the ways. To hesitate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>
+might be to lose trace of the man who had proved
+such a false friend, while, by crossing to Brussels
+again, I would be leaving Phrida to her fate.</p>
+
+<p>"You heard no other mention of the person named
+Royle?" I asked her after a brief pause, during
+which I placed a second half-sovereign in her
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>She reflected for a moment, her eyes cast down
+upon the carpet, as we stood together in that
+sombre little room of horrors.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, yes," she replied thoughtfully. "One
+afternoon when I was taking tea into the drawing-room
+where they were sitting together I heard
+mistress say, 'I don't like that man Royle at all.
+He means mischief&mdash;more especially as he loves
+the girl.' The gentleman only laughed and said,
+'Have no fear on that score. He knows nothing,
+and is not likely to know, unless you tell him.'
+Then mistress said, 'I've been a fool, perhaps, but
+when we met I told him one or two things&mdash;sufficient
+to cause him to think.' Then the gentleman stood
+up angrily and cried out in quite a loud voice:
+'What! you fool! You've actually told him&mdash;you've
+allowed your infernal tongue to wag and let out the
+truth!' But she said that she had not told all the
+truth, and started abusing him&mdash;so much so that
+he left the room and went out into the garden,
+where, a few minutes later, I saw him talking
+excitedly to Ali. But when the two men talked
+I could, of course, understand nothing," added
+the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Then your mistress declared that she didn't like
+the man Royle, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; she seemed to fear him&mdash;fear that he knew
+too much about some business or other," replied
+the maid. "And to tell you quite frankly, sir, after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>
+watching the mistress and her visitor very
+narrowly for a couple of days I came to the conclusion
+that the gentleman was hiding&mdash;that perhaps
+the police were after him."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" I inquired in a casual tone. "What
+made you think that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hardly know. Perhaps from the scraps of
+conversation I overheard, perhaps from his cunning,
+secret manner&mdash;not but what he was always nice
+to me, and gave me something when he left."</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't hear any other names of persons
+mentioned?" I asked. "Try and think, as all that
+you tell me is of the greatest importance to me."</p>
+
+<p>The girl stood silent, while I paced up and down
+that room in which, not many hours before, I had
+endured that awful mental torture. She drew her
+hand across her brow, trying to recall.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there was another name," she admitted at
+last, "but I can't at the moment recall it."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, do!" I implored her. "Try and recall it.
+I am in no hurry to leave."</p>
+
+<p>Again the dark-eyed maid in the dainty apron
+was silent&mdash;both hands upon her brow, as she had
+turned from me and was striving to remember.</p>
+
+<p>"It was some foreign name&mdash;a woman's name,"
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>I recollected the dead girl was believed to have
+been a foreigner!</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she cried&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, I remember! The name was Mary Brack."</p>
+
+<p>"Mary Brack!" I repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Of course I don't know how it's spelt."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if it were a foreign name it would probably
+be Marie B-r-a-c-q&mdash;if you are sure you've pronounced
+it right."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. I'm quite sure. Mistress called her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>
+'poor girl!' so I can only suppose that something
+must have happened to her."</p>
+
+<p>I held my breath at her words.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, without a doubt I had secured a clue to the
+identity of the girl who lost her life at Harrington
+Gardens.</p>
+
+<p>Her name, in all probability, was Marie Bracq!</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+
+<h3>"MARIE BRACQ!"</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">Marie Bracq!</span> The name rang in my ears in the
+express all the way from Colchester to Liverpool
+Street.</p>
+
+<p>Just before six o'clock I alighted from a taxi in
+Scotland Yard, and, ascending in the lift, soon found
+myself sitting with Inspector Edwards.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment I deemed it judicious to tell him
+nothing regarding my night adventure in the
+country, except to say:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've had a strange experience&mdash;the
+strangest any man could have, because I have dared
+to investigate on my own account the mystery of
+Harrington Gardens."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! tell me about it, Mr. Royle," he urged,
+leaning back in his chair before the littered writing-table.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing much to tell," was my reply.
+"I'll describe it all some day. At present there's no
+time to waste. I believe I am correct in saying
+that the name of the murdered girl is Marie Bracq."</p>
+
+<p>Edwards looked me straight in the face. "That's
+not an English name, is it?" he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, Belgian, I should say."</p>
+
+<p>"Belgian? Yes, most probably," he said. "A
+rather uncommon name, and one which ought
+not to be difficult to trace. How did you find
+this out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's a long story, Mr. Edwards," I said.
+"But I honestly believe that at last we are on the
+scent. Cannot you discover whether any girl of
+that name is missing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. I'll wire to the Brussels police at
+once. Perhaps it will be well to ask the Pr&eacute;fect of
+Police in Paris if they have any person of that
+name reported missing," he said, and, ringing a bell,
+a clerk appeared almost instantly with a writing-pad
+and pencil.</p>
+
+<p>"Wire to Brussels and Paris and ask if they have
+any person named Marie Bracq&mdash;be careful of the
+spelling&mdash;missing. If so, we will send them over
+a photo."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," the man replied, and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," I asked casually, when we were alone,
+"have you traced the tailor who made the dead
+girl's costume?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet. The Italian police are making every
+inquiry."</p>
+
+<p>"And what have you decided regarding that
+letter offering to give information?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," was his prompt reply. "And if
+this information you have obtained as to the
+identity of the deceased proves correct, we shall
+do nothing. It will be far more satisfactory to
+work out the problem for ourselves, rather than
+risk being misled by somebody who has an axe
+to grind."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I'm pleased that you view the matter in
+that light," I said, much relieved. "I feel con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>fident
+that I have gained the true name of
+the victim."</p>
+
+<p>"But how did you manage it, Mr. Royle?" he
+asked, much interested.</p>
+
+<p>I, however, refused to satisfy his curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"You certainly seem to know more about the
+affair than we do," he remarked with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, was I not a friend of the man who is now
+a fugitive?" I remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, of course! And depend upon it, Mr. Royle,
+when this affair is cleared up, we shall find that
+your friend was a man of very curious character,"
+he said, pursing his lips. "Inquiries have shown
+that many mysteries concerning him remain to
+be explained."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment I did not speak. Then I asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Is anything known concerning a woman friend
+of his named Petre?"</p>
+
+<p>"Petre?" he echoed. "No, not that I'm aware
+of. But it seemed that he was essentially what
+might be called a ladies' man."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that. He used to delight in entertaining
+his lady friends."</p>
+
+<p>"But who is this woman Petre whom you've
+mentioned?" he inquired with some curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"The woman who is ready to give you information
+for a consideration," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I am acquainted with her. I was with
+her last night," was my quick response. "Her
+intention is to condemn a perfectly innocent
+woman."</p>
+
+<p>"Whom?" he asked sharply. "The woman who
+lost that green horn comb at the flat?"</p>
+
+<p>I held my breath.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Edwards," I answered, "That question is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>
+unfair. As a gentleman, I cannot mention a lady's
+name. If she chooses to do so that's another
+matter. But if she does&mdash;as from motives of
+jealousy she easily may do&mdash;please do not take any
+action without first consulting me. Ere long I shall
+have a strange, almost incredible, story to put
+before you."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not now?" he asked, instantly interested.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I have not yet substantiated all my
+facts," was my reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Cannot I assist you? Why keep me in the
+dark?" he protested.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid you can render me no other assistance
+except to hesitate to accept the allegations of that
+woman Petre," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we shall wait until she approaches us
+again," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"This I feel certain she will do," I exclaimed.
+"But if you see her, make no mention whatever
+of me&mdash;you understand? She believes me to be
+dead, and therefore not likely to disprove her
+allegations."</p>
+
+<p>"Dead!" he echoed. "Really, Mr. Royle, all
+this sounds most interesting."</p>
+
+<p>"It is," I declared. "I believe I am now upon
+the verge of a very remarkable discovery&mdash;that ere
+long we shall know the details of that crime in
+South Kensington."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you do succeed in elucidating the mystery
+you will accomplish a marvellous feat," said the
+great detective, placing his hands together and
+looking at me across his table. "I confess that
+I'm completely baffled. That friend of yours who
+called himself Kemsley has disappeared as completely
+as though the ground had opened and
+swallowed him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Edwards, London's a big place," I laughed,
+"and your men are really not very astute."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because the man you want called at my
+rooms in Albemarle Street only a few days
+ago."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" he cried, staring at me surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I was unfortunately out, but he left a
+message with my man that he would let me know
+his address later."</p>
+
+<p>"Amazing impudence!" cried my friend. "He
+called in order to show his utter defiance of the
+police, I should think."</p>
+
+<p>"No. My belief is that he wished to tell me
+something," I said. "Anyhow, he will either
+return or send his address."</p>
+
+<p>"I very much doubt it. He's a clever
+rogue, but, like all men of his elusiveness and
+cunning, he never takes undue chances. No,
+Mr. Royle, depend upon it, he'll never visit
+you again."</p>
+
+<p>"But I may be able to find him. Who knows?"</p>
+
+<p>The detective moved his papers aside, and with
+a sigh admitted:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you may have luck, to be sure."</p>
+
+<p>Then, after some further conversation, he looked
+at the piece of sticking plaster on my head and
+remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"I see you've had a knock. How did you
+manage it?"</p>
+
+<p>I made an excuse that in bending before my own
+fireplace I had struck it on the corner of the mantelshelf.
+Afterwards I suddenly said:</p>
+
+<p>"You recollect those facts you told me regarding
+the alleged death of the real Kemsley in Peru,
+don't you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they've interested me deeply. I'd so
+much like to know any further details."</p>
+
+<p>Edwards reflected a moment, recalling the report.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, taking from one of the
+drawers in his table a voluminous official file of
+papers. "There really isn't very much more than
+what you already know. The Consul's report is
+a very full one, and contains a quantity of
+depositions taken on the spot&mdash;mostly evidence
+of Peruvians, in which little credence can, perhaps,
+be placed. Of course," he added, "the suspected
+man Cane seems to have been a very bad lot.
+He was at one time manager of a rubber
+plantation belonging to a Portuguese company,
+and some very queer stories were current regarding
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"What kind of stories?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, his outrageous cruelty to the natives when
+they did not collect sufficient rubber. He used,
+they said, to burn the native villages and massacre
+the inhabitants without the slightest compunction.
+He was known by the natives as 'The Red Englishman.'
+They were terrified by him. His name,
+it seems, was Herbert Cane, and so bad became
+his reputation that he was dismissed by the company
+after an inquiry by a commission sent from
+Lisbon, and drifted into Argentina, sinking lower
+and lower in the social scale."</p>
+
+<p>Then, after referring to several closely-written
+pages of foolscap, each one bearing the blue embossed
+stamp of the British Consulate in Lima, he went
+on:</p>
+
+<p>"Inquiries showed that for a few months the
+man Cane was in Monte Video, endeavouring to
+obtain a railway concession for a German group of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>
+financiers, but his reputation became noised abroad
+and he found it better to leave that city. Afterwards
+he seems to have met Sir Digby and to have
+become his bosom friend."</p>
+
+<p>"And what were the exact circumstances of
+Sir Digby's death?" I asked anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! they are veiled in mystery," was the
+detective's response, turning again to the official
+report and depositions of witnesses. "As I think I
+told you, Sir Digby had met with an accident and
+injured his spine. Cane, whose acquaintance he
+made, brought him down to Lima, and a couple of
+months later, under the doctor's advice, removed
+him to a bungalow at Huacho. Here they lived
+with a couple of Peruvian men-servants, named
+Senos and Luis. Cane seemed devoted to his
+friend, leading the life of a quiet, studious, refined
+man&mdash;very different to his wild life on the
+rubber plantation. One morning, however, on
+a servant entering Sir Digby's room, he found
+him dead, and an examination showed that he
+had been bitten in the arm by a poisonous
+snake. There were signs of a struggle, showing
+the poor fellow's agony before he died. Cane,
+entering shortly afterwards, was distracted with
+grief, and telegraphed himself to the British
+Consul at Lima. And, according to custom in
+that country, that same evening the unfortunate
+man was buried."</p>
+
+<p>"Without any inquiry?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. At the time, remember, there was no
+suspicion. A good many people die annually in
+Peru of snake-bite," Edwards replied, again referring
+to the file of papers before him. "It seems,
+however, that three days later, the second Peruvian
+servant&mdash;a man known as Senos&mdash;declared that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>
+during the night of the tragic affair he had heard
+his master suddenly yell with terror and cry out
+'You blackguard, Cane, you hell-fiend; take
+the thing away. Ah! God! You&mdash;why, you've
+killed me!'"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said. "But was this told to Cane?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cane saw the man and strenuously denied
+his allegation. He, indeed, went to the local Commissary
+of Police and lodged a complaint against
+the man Senos for falsely accusing him, saying
+that he had done so out of spite, because a few
+days before he had had occasion to reprimand him
+for inattention to his duties. Further, Cane brought
+up a man living five miles from Huacho who swore
+that the accused man was at his bungalow on that
+night, arriving at nine o'clock. He drank so
+heavily that he could not get home, so he remained
+there the night, returning at eight o'clock next
+morning."</p>
+
+<p>"And the police officials believed him&mdash;eh?"
+I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. But next day he left Huacho, expressing
+a determination to go to Lima and make a
+statement to the Consul there. But he never
+arrived at the capital, and he has never been
+seen since."</p>
+
+<p>"Then a grave suspicion rests upon him?" I
+remarked, reflecting upon my startling adventure
+of the previous night.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. But the curious thing is that no
+attempt seems to have been made by the police
+authorities in Lima to trace the man. They allowed
+him to disappear, and took no notice of the
+affair, even when the British Consul reported it. I
+fancy police methods must be very lax ones
+there," he added.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But what could have been the method of the
+assassin?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, simply to allow the snake to strike at
+the sleeping man, I presume," said the detective.
+"Yet, one would have thought that after the snake
+had bitten him he would have cried out for help.
+But he did not."</p>
+
+<p>Had the victim, I wondered, swallowed that
+same tasteless drug that I had swallowed, and been
+paralysed, as I had been?</p>
+
+<p>"And the motive of the crime?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>Edwards shrugged his shoulders, and raised
+his brows.</p>
+
+<p>"Robbery, I should say," was his reply. "But,
+strangely enough, there is no suggestion of theft
+in this report; neither does there seem to be any
+woman in the case."</p>
+
+<p>"You, of course, suspect that my friend
+Digby and the man Cane, are one and the same
+person!" I said. "But is it feasible that if
+Cane were really responsible for the death of
+the real Sir Digby, would he have the bold
+audacity to return to London and actually pose
+as his victim?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. Royle," replied the detective, "I
+think it most feasible. Great criminals have the
+most remarkable audacity. Some really astounding
+cases of most impudent impersonation have come
+under my own observation during my career in
+this office."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you adhere to the theory which you
+formed at first?"</p>
+
+<p>"Most decidedly," he replied; "and while it
+seems that you have a surprise to spring upon me
+very shortly, so have I one to spring upon you&mdash;one
+which I fear, Mr. Royle," he added very slowly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>
+looking me gravely in the face&mdash;"I fear may come
+as a great shock to you."</p>
+
+<p>I sat staring at him, unable to utter a syllable.</p>
+
+<p>He was alluding to Phrida, and to the damning
+evidence against her.</p>
+
+<p>What could he know? Ah! who had betrayed
+my love?</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>LOVE'S CONFESSION.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">I dined</span> alone at the Club, and afterwards sat over
+my coffee in one of the smaller white-panelled rooms,
+gazing up at the Adams ceiling, and my mind full
+of the gravest thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>What had Edwards meant when he promised
+me an unpleasant surprise? Had the woman
+Petre already made a statement incriminating my
+well-beloved?</p>
+
+<p>If so, I would at once demand the arrest of her
+and her accomplices for attempted murder. It
+had suggested itself to me to make a complete
+revelation to Edwards of the whole of my exciting
+adventure at Colchester, but on mature consideration
+I saw that such a course might thwart my
+endeavours to come face to face with Digby.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore I had held my tongue.</p>
+
+<p>But were Edwards' suspicions that the assassin
+Cane and the man I knew as Sir Digby Kemsley
+were one and the same, correct, or were they not?</p>
+
+<p>The method by which the unfortunate Englishman
+in Peru had been foully done to death was
+similar to the means employed against myself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>
+at Colchester on the previous night. Again, the
+fact that the victim did not shout and call for
+aid was, no doubt, due to the administration
+of that drug which produced complete paralysis
+of the muscles, and yet left the senses perfectly
+normal.</p>
+
+<p>Was that Indian whom they called Ali really a
+Peruvian native&mdash;the accomplice of Cane? I now
+felt confident that this was so.</p>
+
+<p>But in what manner could the impostor have
+obtained power over Phrida? Why did she not
+take courage and reveal to me the truth?</p>
+
+<p>Presently, I took a taxi down to Cromwell Road
+and found my well-beloved, with thin, pale, drawn
+face, endeavouring to do some fancy needlework
+by the drawing-room fire. Her mother had retired
+with a bad headache, she said, and she was alone.</p>
+
+<p>"I expected you yesterday, Teddy," she said,
+taking my hand. "I waited all day, but you
+never came."</p>
+
+<p>"I had to go into the country," I replied
+somewhat lamely.</p>
+
+<p>Then after a brief conversation upon trivialities,
+during which time I sat regarding her closely, and
+noting how nervous and agitated she seemed, she
+suddenly asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Well! Have you heard anything more of that
+woman, Mrs. Petre?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe she's gone abroad," I replied,
+with evasion.</p>
+
+<p>Phrida's lips twitched convulsively, and she gave
+vent to a slight sigh, of relief, perhaps.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, dearest," I said, bending and stroking
+her soft hair from her white brow. "Are you still
+so full of anxiety? Do you still fear the exposure
+of the truth?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She did not reply, but of a sudden buried her face
+upon my shoulder and burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" I sighed, still stroking her hair sympathetically,
+"I know what you must suffer,
+darling&mdash;of the terrible mental strain upon you.
+I believe in your innocence&mdash;I still believe in it,
+and if you will bear a stout heart and trust
+me, I believe I shall succeed in worsting your
+enemies."</p>
+
+<p>In a moment her tear-stained face was raised
+to mine.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really believe that you can, dear?"
+she asked anxiously. "Do you actually anticipate
+extricating me from this terrible position of doubt,
+uncertainty, and guilt?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do&mdash;if you will only trust me, and keep a brave
+heart, darling," I said. "Already I have made
+several discoveries&mdash;startling ones."</p>
+
+<p>"About Mrs. Petre, perhaps?"</p>
+
+<p>"About her and about others."</p>
+
+<p>"What about her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have found out where she is living&mdash;down at
+Colchester."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" she gasped, starting. "You've been
+down there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I was there yesterday, and I saw Ali and
+the two servants."</p>
+
+<p>"You saw them&mdash;and spoke to them?" she
+cried incredibly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Teddy&mdash;ah! You don't know how injudicious
+it was for you to visit them. Why, you
+might have&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Might have what?" I asked, endeavouring to
+betray no surprise at her words.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I mean you should not have ventured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>
+into the enemy's camp like that. It was dangerous,"
+she declared.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are quite unscrupulous," she replied
+briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"They are your enemies, I know. But I cannot
+see why they should be mine," I remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"My enemies&mdash;yes!" my love cried bitterly.
+"It will not be long before that woman makes a
+charge against me, Teddy&mdash;one which I shall not
+be able to refute."</p>
+
+<p>"But I will assist you against them. I love
+you, Phrida, and it is my duty to defend you,"
+I declared.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! You were always so good and generous,"
+she remarked wistfully. "But in this case I cannot,
+alas, see how you can render me any aid! The
+police will make inquiries, and&mdash;and then the end,"
+she added in a voice scarce above a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" I urged. "Don't speak in that
+hopeless strain, darling. I know your position is a
+terrible one. We need not refer to details; as they
+are painful to both of us. But I am straining every
+nerve&mdash;working night and day to clear up the
+mystery and lift from you this cloud of suspicion.
+I have already commenced by learning one or two
+facts&mdash;facts of which the police remain in ignorance.
+Although you refused to tell me&mdash;why, I cannot
+discern&mdash;the name of the unfortunate girl who lost
+her life, I have succeeded in gaining knowledge of it.
+Was not the girl named Marie Bracq?"</p>
+
+<p>She started again at hearing the name.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied at once. "Who told you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I discovered it for myself," I replied. "Who
+was the girl&mdash;tell me?"</p>
+
+<p>"A friend of Digby Kemsley's."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A foreigner, of course?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Belgian, I believe."</p>
+
+<p>"From Brussels, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps. I don't know for certain."</p>
+
+<p>"And she learned some great secret of Digby's,
+which was the motive of the crime," I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>But my love only shook her pretty head blankly,
+saying&mdash;"I don't know. Perhaps she knew something
+to his detriment."</p>
+
+<p>"And in order to silence her, she was killed,"
+I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps."</p>
+
+<p>She made no protest of her own innocence, I
+noticed. She seemed to place herself unreservedly
+in my hands to judge her as I thought fit.</p>
+
+<p>Yet had not her own admissions been extremely
+strange ones. Had she not practically avowed
+her guilt?</p>
+
+<p>"Can you tell me nothing concerning this Belgian
+girl?" I asked her a few moments later.</p>
+
+<p>"I only knew her but very slightly."</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me putting to you such a pointed
+question, Phrida. But were you jealous of
+her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jealous!" she ejaculated. "Why, dear me,
+no. Why should I be jealous? Who suggested
+that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Petre. She declares that your jealousy
+was the motive of the crime, and that Digby himself
+can bear witness to it."</p>
+
+<p>"She said that?" cried my love, her eyes
+flashing in fierce anger. "She's a wicked liar."</p>
+
+<p>"I know she is, and I intend to prove her so,"
+I replied with confidence. "When she and I
+meet again we have an account to settle. You
+will see."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Teddy, beware of her! She's a dangerous
+woman&mdash;highly dangerous," declared my love apprehensively.
+"You don't know her as I do&mdash;you
+do not know the grave evil and utter ruin she
+has brought upon others. So I beg of you to be
+careful not to be entrapped."</p>
+
+<p>"Have others been entrapped, then?" I asked
+with great curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. No. Please don't ask me,"
+she protested. "I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>Her response was unreal. My well-beloved was
+I knew in possession of some terrible secret which
+she dared not betray. Yet why were her lips sealed?
+What did she fear?</p>
+
+<p>"I intend to find Digby, and demand the truth
+from him," I said after we had been silent for a
+long time. "I will never rest until I stand before
+him face to face."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! no dear!" she cried in quick alarm, starting
+up and flinging both her arms about my neck. "No,
+don't do that?" she implored.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because he will condemn me&mdash;he will think
+you have learned something from me," she declared
+in deep distress.</p>
+
+<p>"But I shall reveal to him my sources of information,"
+I said. "Since that fatal night I have
+learned that the man whom I believed was my
+firm friend has betrayed me. An explanation is
+due to me, and I intend to have one."</p>
+
+<p>"At my expense&mdash;eh?" she asked in bitter
+reproach.</p>
+
+<p>"No, dearest. The result shall not fall upon you,"
+I said. "I will see to that. A foul and dastardly
+crime has been committed, and the assassin shall be
+brought to punishment."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>My well-beloved shuddered in my arms as she
+heard my words&mdash;as though the guilt were upon
+her.</p>
+
+<p>I detected it, and became more than ever puzzled.
+Why did she seek to secure this man's freedom?</p>
+
+<p>I asked her that question point-blank, whereupon
+in a hard, faltering voice, she replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Because, dear, while he is still a fugitive from
+justice I feel myself safe. The hour he is arrested
+is the hour of my doom."</p>
+
+<p>"Why speak so despondently?" I asked. "Have
+I not promised to protect you from those people?"</p>
+
+<p>"How can you if they make allegations against
+me and bring up witnesses who will commit perjury&mdash;who
+will swear anything in order that the guilt
+shall be placed upon my head," she asked in
+despair.</p>
+
+<p>"Though the justice often dispensed by country
+magistrates is a disgraceful travesty of right and
+wrong, yet we still have in England justice in
+the criminal courts," I said. "Rest assured
+that no jury will convict an innocent woman of the
+crime of murder."</p>
+
+<p>She stood slightly away from me, staring blankly
+straight before her. Then suddenly she pressed
+both hands upon her brow and cried in a low,
+intense voice:</p>
+
+<p>"May God have pity on me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said very earnestly. "Trust in Him,
+dearest, and He will help you."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" she cried. "You don't know how I
+suffer&mdash;of all the terror&mdash;all the dread that haunts
+me night and day. Each ring at the door I fear may
+be the police&mdash;every man who passes the house I
+fear may be a detective watching. This torture is
+too awful. I feel I shall go mad&mdash;<i>mad</i>!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And she paced the room in her despair, while I
+stood watching her, unable to still the wild, frantic
+terror that had gripped her young heart.</p>
+
+<p>What could I do? What could I think?</p>
+
+<p>"This cannot go on, Phrida!" I cried at last in
+desperation. "I will search out this man. I'll
+grip him by the throat and force the truth from him,"
+I declared, setting my teeth hard. "I love you,
+and I will not stand by and see you suffer like
+this!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, no!" she implored, suddenly approaching
+me, flinging herself upon her knees and gripping
+my hands. "No, I beg of you not to do that!"
+she cried hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>"But why?" I demanded. "Surely you can
+tell me the reason of your fear!" I went on&mdash;"the
+man is a rank impostor. That has been proved
+already by the police."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know that?" she asked, in an instant
+grave. "Are you quite certain of that? Remember,
+you have all along believed him to be the real
+Sir Digby."</p>
+
+<p>"What is your belief, Phrida?" I asked her very
+earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>She drew a long breath and hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Truth to tell, dear, I don't know what to think.
+Sometimes I believe he must be the real person&mdash;and
+at other times I am filled with doubt."</p>
+
+<p>"But now tell me," I urged, assisting her to rise
+to her feet and then placing my arm about her neck,
+so that her pretty head fell upon my shoulder.
+"Answer me truthfully this one question, for all
+depends upon it. How is it that this man has
+secured such a hold upon you&mdash;how is it that with
+you his word is law&mdash;that though he is a fugitive
+from justice you refuse to say a single word against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>
+him or to give me one clue to the solution of this
+mystery?"</p>
+
+<p>Her face was blanched to the lips, she trembled
+in my embrace, drawing a long breath.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I'm sorry, dear&mdash;but I&mdash;I can't tell
+you. I&mdash;I dare not. Can't you understand?" she
+asked with despair in her great, wide-open eyes.
+"<i>I dare not!</i>"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>OFFICIAL SECRECY.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">The</span> following evening was damp, grey, and dull,
+as I stood shivering at the corner of the narrow
+Rue de l'Eveque and the broad Place de la Monnie
+in Brussels. The lamps were lit, and around me
+everywhere was the bustle of business.</p>
+
+<p>I had crossed by the morning service by way of
+Ostend, and had arrived again at the Grand only
+half an hour before.</p>
+
+<p>The woman Petre had sent a letter to Digby
+Kemsley to the Poste Restante in Brussels under
+the name of Bryant. If this were so, the fugitive
+must be in the habit of calling for his letters, and
+it was the great black fa&ccedil;ade of the chief post-office
+in Brussels that I was watching.</p>
+
+<p>The business-day was just drawing to a close,
+the streets were thronged, the traffic rattled noisily
+over the uneven granite paving of the big square.
+Opposite the Post Office the arc lamps were shedding
+a bright light outside the theatre, while all the shops
+around were a blaze of light, while on every side
+the streets were agog with life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Up and down the broad flight of steps which
+led to the entrance of the Post Office hundreds
+of people ascended and descended, passing and
+re-passing the four swing-doors which gave entrance
+to the huge hall with its dozens of departments
+ranged around and its partitioned desks
+for writing.</p>
+
+<p>The mails from France and England were just
+in, and dozens of men came with their keys to
+obtain their correspondence from the range of
+private boxes, and as I watched, the whole bustle of
+business life passed before me.</p>
+
+<p>I was keeping a sharp eye upon all who passed
+up and down that long flight of granite steps, but
+at that hour of the evening, and in that crowd, it
+was no easy matter.</p>
+
+<p>Would I be successful? That was the one
+thought which filled my mind.</p>
+
+<p>As I stood there, my eager gaze upon that endless
+stream of people, I felt wearied and fagged. The
+Channel crossing had been a bad one, as it so often
+is in January, and I had not yet recovered from
+my weird experience at Colchester. The heavy
+overcoat I wore was, I found, not proof against
+the cutting east wind which swept around the
+corner from the Boulevard Auspach, hence I was
+compelled to change my position and seek shelter
+in a doorway opposite the point where I expected
+the man I sought would enter.</p>
+
+<p>I had already surveyed the interior and presented
+the card of a friend to an official at
+the Poste Restante, though I knew there was no
+letter for him. I uttered some words of politeness
+to the man in order to make his acquaintance, as
+he might, perhaps, be of use to me ere my quest
+was at an end.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At the Poste Restante were two windows, one
+distributing correspondence for people whose surname
+began with the letters A to L, and the other
+from M to Z.</p>
+
+<p>It was at the first window I inquired, the clerk
+there being a pleasant, fair-haired, middle-aged
+man in a holland coat as worn by postal employees.
+I longed to ask him if he had any letters for the
+name of Bryant, or if any Englishman of that
+name had called, but I dared not do so. He would,
+no doubt, snub me and tell me to mind my own
+business.</p>
+
+<p>So instead, I was extremely polite, regretted to
+have troubled him, and, raising my hat, withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>I saw that to remain within the big office for
+hours was impossible. The uniformed doorkeeper
+who sat upon a high desk overlooking everything,
+would quickly demand my business, and
+expel me.</p>
+
+<p>No, my only place was out in the open street.
+Not a pleasant prospect in winter, and for how many
+days I could not tell.</p>
+
+<p>For aught I knew, the fugitive had called for
+the woman's letter and left the capital. But he,
+being aware that the police were in search of him,
+would, I thought, if he called at the post office at
+all for letters, come there after dark. Hence, I
+had lost no time in mounting guard.</p>
+
+<p>My thoughts, as I stood there, were, indeed, bitter
+and confused.</p>
+
+<p>The woman Petre had not, as far as I could make
+out, made any incriminating statement to the
+police. Yet she undoubtedly believed me to be
+dead, and I reflected in triumph upon the unpleasant
+surprise in store for her when we met&mdash;as meet we
+undoubtedly would.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The amazing problem, viewed briefly, stood
+thus: The girl, Marie Bracq, had been killed by a
+knife with a three-cornered blade, such knife having
+been and being still in the possession of Phrida, my
+well-beloved, whose finger-prints were found in
+the room near the body of the poor girl. The
+grave and terrible suspicion resting upon Phrida
+was increased and even corroborated by her firm
+resolve to preserve secrecy, her admissions, and her
+avowed determination to take her own life rather
+than face accusation.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, there was the mystery of the
+identity of Marie Bracq, the mystery of the identity
+of the man who had passed as Sir Digby Kemsley,
+the reason of his flight, if Phrida were guilty,
+and the mystery of the woman Petre, and her
+accomplices.</p>
+
+<p>Yes. The whole affair was one great and complete
+problem, the extent of which even Edwards,
+expert as he was, had, as yet, failed to discover.
+The more I tried to solve it the more hopelessly
+complicated did it become.</p>
+
+<p>I could see no light through the veil of mystery
+and suspicion in which my well-beloved had
+become enveloped.</p>
+
+<p>Why had that man&mdash;the man I now hated with
+so fierce an hatred&mdash;held her in the hollow of his
+unscrupulous hands? She had admitted that,
+whenever he ordered her to do any action, she was
+bound to obey.</p>
+
+<p>Yes. My love was that man's slave! I ground
+my teeth when the bitter thought flashed across
+my perturbed mind.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! what a poor, ignorant fool I had been!
+And how that scoundrel must have laughed
+at me!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I was anxious to meet him face to face&mdash;to
+force from his lips the truth, to compel him to
+answer to me.</p>
+
+<p>And with that object I waited&mdash;waited in
+the cold and rain for three long hours, until
+at last the great doors were closed and locked
+for the night, and people ascended those steps
+no longer.</p>
+
+<p>Then I turned away faint and disheartened,
+chilled to the bone, and wearied out. A few
+steps along the Boulevard brought me to
+the hotel, where I ate some dinner, and retired
+to my room to fling myself upon the couch
+and think.</p>
+
+<p>Why was Phrida in such fear lest I should meet
+the man who held her so mysteriously and completely
+in his power? What could she fear from
+our meeting if she were, as I still tried to believe,
+innocent?</p>
+
+<p>Again, was it possible that after their dastardly
+attempt upon my life, Mrs. Petre and her accomplices
+had fled to join the fugitive? Were they
+with him? Perhaps so! Perhaps they were there
+in Brussels!</p>
+
+<p>The unfortunate victim, Marie Bracq, had
+probably been a Belgian. Bracq was certainly a
+Belgian name.</p>
+
+<p>The idea crossed my mind to go on the following
+day to the central Police Bureau I had noticed in
+the Rue de la Regence, and make inquiry whether
+they knew of any person of that name to be missing.
+It was not a bad suggestion, I reflected, and I felt
+greatly inclined to carry it out.</p>
+
+<p>Next day, I was up early, but recognised the
+futility of watching at the Poste Restante until the
+daylight faded. On the other hand, if Mrs. Petre<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>
+was actually in that city, she would have no fear
+to go about openly. Yet, after due consideration,
+I decided not to go to the post office till twilight
+set in.</p>
+
+<p>The morning I spent idling on the Boulevards
+and in the caf&eacute;s, but I became sick of such inactivity,
+for I was frantically eager and anxious to
+learn the truth.</p>
+
+<p>At noon I made up my mind, and taking a taxi,
+alighted at the Pr&eacute;fecture of Police, where, after
+some time, I was seen by the <i>Chef du Suret&eacute;</i>, a grey-haired,
+dry-as-dust looking official&mdash;a narrow-eyed
+little man, in black, whose name was Monsieur
+Van Huffel, and who sat at a writing-table in a
+rather bare room, the walls of which were painted
+dark green. He eyed me with some curiosity
+as I entered and bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"Be seated, I pray, m'sieur," he said in French,
+indicating a chair on the opposite side of the table,
+and leaning back, placed his fingers together in a
+judicial attitude.</p>
+
+<p>The police functionary on the continent is possessed
+of an ultra-grave demeanour, and is always
+of a funereal type.</p>
+
+<p>"M'sieur wishes to make an inquiry, I hear?"
+he began.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said. "I am very anxious to know
+whether you have any report of a young person
+named Marie Bracq being missing."</p>
+
+<p>"Marie Bracq!" he echoed in surprise, leaning
+forward towards me. "And what do you know,
+m'sieur, regarding Marie Bracq?"</p>
+
+<p>"I merely called to ascertain if any person of
+that name, is reported to you as missing," I said,
+much surprised at the effect which mention of the
+victim had produced upon him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You are English, of course?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, m'sieur."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, curiously enough, only this morning I
+have had a similar inquiry from your Scotland
+Yard. They are asking if we are acquainted with
+any person named Marie Bracq. And we are,
+m'sieur," said Monsieur Van Huffel. "But first
+please explain what you know of her."</p>
+
+<p>"I have no personal acquaintance with her," was
+my reply. "I know of her&mdash;that is all. But it may
+not be the same person."</p>
+
+<p>He opened a drawer, turned over a quantity
+of papers, and a few seconds later produced a
+photograph which he passed across to me.</p>
+
+<p>It was a half-length cabinet portrait of a girl
+in a fur coat and hat. But no second glance was
+needed to tell me that it was actually the picture of
+the girl found murdered in London.</p>
+
+<p>"I see you recognise her, m'sieur," remarked
+the police official in a cold, matter-of-fact tone.
+"Please tell me all you know."</p>
+
+<p>I paused for a few seconds with the portrait in
+my hand. My object was to get all the facts I
+could from the functionary before me, and give
+him the least information possible.</p>
+
+<p>"Unfortunately, I know but very little," was my
+rather lame reply. "This lady was a friend of a
+lady friend of mine."</p>
+
+<p>"An English lady was your friend&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"In London?"</p>
+
+<p>I nodded in the affirmative, while the shrewd little
+man who was questioning me sat twiddling a pen
+with his thin fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"And she told you of Marie Bracq? In what
+circumstances?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well," I said. "It is a long story. Before I
+tell you, I would like to ask you one question,
+m'sieur. Have you received from Scotland Yard
+the description of a man named Digby Kemsley&mdash;Sir
+Digby Kemsley&mdash;who is wanted for
+murder?"</p>
+
+<p>The dry little official with the parchment face
+repeated the name, then consulting a book at his
+elbow, replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. We have circulated the description and
+photograph. It is believed by your police that his
+real name is Cane."</p>
+
+<p>"He has been in Brussels during the past few
+days to my own certain knowledge," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"In Brussels," echoed the man seated in the
+writing chair. "Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here, in your city. And I expect he is
+here now."</p>
+
+<p>"And you know him?" asked the <i>Chef du Suret&eacute;</i>,
+his eyes betraying slight excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite well. He was my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"I see he is accused of murdering a woman,
+name unknown, in his apartment," remarked
+the official.</p>
+
+<p>"The name is now known&mdash;it has been discovered
+by me, m'sieur. The name of the dead
+girl is Marie Bracq."</p>
+
+<p>The little man half rose from his chair and stared
+at me.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this the truth, m'sieur?" he cried. "Is
+this man named Kemsley, or Cane, accused of the
+assassination of Marie Bracq?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"But this is most astounding," the Belgian
+functionary declared excitedly. "Marie Bracq
+dead! Ah! it cannot be possible, m'sieur! You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>
+do not know what this information means to us&mdash;what
+an enormous sensation it will cause if the
+press scents the truth. Tell me quickly&mdash;tell me
+all you know," he urged, at the same time taking
+up the telephone receiver from his table and then
+listening for a second, said in a quick, impetuous
+voice, "I want Inspector Fr&eacute;my at once!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2>
+
+<h3>FR&Eacute;MY, OF THE SURET&Eacute;.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">After</span> a few moments a short, stout, clean-shaven
+man with a round, pleasant face, and dressed in
+black, entered and bowed to his chief.</p>
+
+<p>He carried his soft felt hat and cane in his
+hand, and seated himself at the invitation of
+Van Huffel.</p>
+
+<p>"This is Inspector Fr&eacute;my&mdash;Monsieur Edouard
+Royle, of Londres," exclaimed the <i>Chef du Suret&eacute;</i>,
+introducing us.</p>
+
+<p>The detective, the most famous police officer in
+Belgium, who had been for years under Monsieur
+Hennion, in Paris, and had now transferred his
+services to Belgium, bowed and looked at me with
+his small, inquisitive eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur Fr&eacute;my. This gentleman has called
+with regard to the case of Marie Bracq," said Van
+Huffel in French.</p>
+
+<p>The detective was quickly interested.</p>
+
+<p>"She is dead&mdash;been assassinated in London,"
+his chief went on.</p>
+
+<p>Fr&eacute;my stared at the speaker in surprise, and
+the two men exchanged strange glances.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur tells me that the man, Sir Digby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>
+Kemsley, wanted by Scotland Yard, is accused
+of the murder of Marie Bracq&mdash;and, further,"
+added Van Huffel, "the accused has been
+here in Brussels quite recently."</p>
+
+<p>"In Brussels?" echoed the round-faced man.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said. "He has letters addressed to
+the Poste Restante in the name of Bryant." And
+I spelt it as the detective carefully wrote down
+the name.</p>
+
+<p>"He will not be difficult to find if he is still in
+Brussels," declared the inspector. "We had an
+inquiry from Scotland Yard asking if we had any
+report concerning Marie Bracq only this morning,"
+he added.</p>
+
+<p>"It was sent to you by my friend, Inspector
+Edwards, and whom I am assisting in this inquiry,"
+I explained.</p>
+
+<p>"You said that Marie Bracq was a friend
+of a lady friend of yours, M'sieur Royle,"
+continued the <i>Chef du Suret&eacute;</i>. "Will you do
+us the favour and tell us all you know concerning
+the tragedy&mdash;how the young lady lost
+her life?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! m'sieur," I replied, "I fear I cannot do
+that. How she was killed is still a mystery. Only
+within the past few hours have I been able to establish
+the dead girl's identity, and only then
+after narrowly escaping falling the victim of a most
+dastardly plot."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you will be good enough to make a
+statement of all you know, M'sieur Royle," urged
+the grey-haired little man; "and if we can be
+of any service in bringing the culprit to justice,
+you may rely upon us."</p>
+
+<p>"But first, m'sieur, allow me to put observation
+upon the Poste Restante?" asked Fr&eacute;my, rising and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>
+going to the telephone, where he got on to one of
+his subordinates, and gave him instructions in
+Flemish, a language I do not understand.</p>
+
+<p>Then, when he returned to his chair, I began
+to briefly relate what I knew concerning Sir Digby,
+and what had occurred, as far as I knew, on that
+fatal night of the sixth of January.</p>
+
+<p>I, of course, made no mention of the black suspicion
+cast upon the woman I loved, nor of the
+delivery of Digby's letter, my meeting with the
+woman Petre and its exciting results.</p>
+
+<p>Yet had I not met that woman I should still
+have been in ignorance of the identity of the
+dead girl, and, besides, I would not have met
+the sallow-faced Ali, or been aware of his
+methods&mdash;those methods so strangely similar to
+that adopted when Sir Digby Kemsley lost his
+life in Peru.</p>
+
+<p>The two police functionaries listened very attentively
+to my story without uttering a word.</p>
+
+<p>I had spoken of the woman Petre as being
+an accomplice of the man who was a fugitive,
+whereupon Fr&eacute;my asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you suppose that the woman is with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has, I believe, left England, and, therefore,
+in all probability, is with him."</p>
+
+<p>"Are there any others of the gang&mdash;for there
+is, of course, a gang? Such people never act
+singly."</p>
+
+<p>"Two other men, as far as I know. One, a young
+man, who acts as servant, and the other, a tall,
+copper-faced man with sleek black hair&mdash;probably
+a Peruvian native. They call him Ali, and he
+pretends he is a Hindu."</p>
+
+<p>"A Hindu!" gasped the detective. "Why,
+I saw one talking to a rather stout Englishwoman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>
+at the Gare du Nord yesterday evening, just before
+the Orient Express left for the East!" He gave
+a quick description of both the man and the woman,
+and I at once said:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that was certainly Ali, and the woman was
+Mrs. Petre!"</p>
+
+<p>"They probably left by the Orient Express!"
+he cried, starting up, and crossing to his chief's
+table snatched up the orange-coloured official
+time table.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! yes," he exclaimed, after searching a
+few moments. "The Orient Express will reach
+Wels, in Austria, at 2.17, no time for a telegram
+to get through. No. The next stop is Vienna&mdash;the
+Westbahnhof&mdash;at 6. I will wire to the Commissary
+of Police to board the train, and if they are
+in it, to detain them."</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent," remarked his chief, and, ringing a
+bell, a clerk appeared and took down the official
+telegram, giving the description of the woman and
+her accomplice.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose the fugitive Englishman is not with
+them?" suggested the <i>Chef du Suret&eacute;</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not see him at the station&mdash;or, at least, I
+did not recognise anyone answering to the description,"
+replied the inspector; "but we may as well
+add his description in the telegram and ask for an
+immediate reply."</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon the official description of Digby,
+as supplied to the Belgian police by Scotland
+Yard, was translated into French and placed in the
+message.</p>
+
+<p>After the clerk had left with it, Fr&eacute;my, standing
+near the window, exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Dieu! Had I but known who they were last
+night! But we may still get them. I will see the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>
+employ&eacute;e at the Poste Restante. This Monsieur
+Bryant, if he receives letters, may have given an
+address for them to be forwarded."</p>
+
+<p>After a slight pause, during which time the two
+functionaries conversed in Flemish, I turned to
+Van Huffel, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"I have related all I know, m'sieur; therefore,
+I beg of you to tell me something concerning
+the young person Marie Bracq. Was she
+a lady?"</p>
+
+<p>"A lady!" he echoed with a laugh. "Most
+certainly&mdash;the daughter of one of the princely
+houses of Europe."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" I gasped. "Tell me all about her!"</p>
+
+<p>But the dry-as-dust little man shook his grey
+head and replied:</p>
+
+<p>"I fear, m'sieur, in my position, I am not permitted
+to reveal secrets entrusted to me. And her
+identity is a secret&mdash;a great secret."</p>
+
+<p>"But I have discovered her identity where our
+English police had failed!" I protested. "Besides,
+am I not assisting you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very greatly, and we are greatly indebted
+to you, M'sieur Royle," he replied, with exquisite
+politeness; "but it is not within my province
+as <i>Chef du Suret&eacute;</i> to tell you facts which have been
+revealed to me under pledge of secrecy."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps M'sieur Fr&eacute;my may be able to tell me
+some facts," I suggested. "Remember, I am
+greatly interested in the mysterious affair."</p>
+
+<p>"From mere curiosity&mdash;eh?" asked Van Huffel
+with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"No, m'sieur," was my earnest reply. "Because
+the arrest and condemnation of the assassin of
+Marie Bracq means all the world to me."</p>
+
+<p>"How?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I hesitated for some moments, then, hoping to
+enlist his sympathy, I told him the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"Upon the lady who is my promised wife rests
+a grave suspicion," I said, in a low, hard voice. "I
+decline to believe ill of her, or to think that she
+could be guilty of a crime, or&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Of the assassination of Marie Bracq?" interrupted
+Van Huffel. "Do you suspect that?
+Is there any question as to the guilt of the man
+Kemsley?" he asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"No one has any suspicion of the lady in question,"
+I said. "Only&mdash;only from certain facts
+within my knowledge and certain words which
+she herself has uttered, a terrible and horrible
+thought has seized me."</p>
+
+<p>"That Marie Bracq was killed by her hand&mdash;eh?
+Ah, m'sieur, I quite understand," he said.
+"And you are seeking the truth&mdash;in order to clear
+the woman you love?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. That is the truth. That is why I
+am devoting all my time&mdash;all that I possess in
+order to solve the mystery and get at the actual
+truth."</p>
+
+<p>Fr&eacute;my glanced at his chief, then at me.</p>
+
+<p>"Bien, m'sieur," exclaimed Van Huffel. "But
+there is no great necessity for you to know the
+actual identity of Marie Bracq. So long as you
+are able to remove the stigma from the lady
+in question, who is to be your wife, and to
+whom you are undoubtedly devoted, what matters
+whether the dead girl was the daughter of a
+prince or of a rag-picker? We will assist you
+in every degree in our power," he went on.
+"M'sieur Fr&eacute;my will question the postal clerk,
+watch will be kept at the Poste Restante, at
+each of the railway stations, and in various other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>
+quarters, so that if any of the gang are in the city
+they cannot leave it without detection&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Except by automobile," I interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I see m'sieur possesses forethought,"
+he said with a smile. "Of course, they can easily
+hire an automobile and run to Namur, Ghent, or
+Antwerp&mdash;or even to one or other of the frontiers.
+But M'sieur Fr&eacute;my is in touch with all persons
+who have motor-cars for hire. If they attempted
+to leave by car when once their descriptions are
+circulated, we should know in half an hour, while
+to cross the frontier by car would be impossible."
+Then, turning to the inspector, he said, "You will
+see that precautions are immediately taken that if
+they are here they cannot leave."</p>
+
+<p>"The matter is in my hands, m'sieur," answered
+the great detective simply.</p>
+
+<p>"Then m'sieur refuses to satisfy me as to the
+exact identity of Marie Bracq?" I asked Van
+Huffel in my most persuasive tone.</p>
+
+<p>"A thousand regrets, m'sieur, but as I have
+already explained, I am compelled to regard the
+secret entrusted to me."</p>
+
+<p>"I take it that her real name is not Marie
+Bracq?" I said, looking him in the face.</p>
+
+<p>"You are correct. It is not."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she a Belgian subject?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, m'sieur, the lady is not."</p>
+
+<p>"You said that a great sensation would be caused
+if the press knew the truth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I ask you to do me the favour, and
+promise me absolute secrecy in this matter. If we
+are to be successful in the arrest of these individuals,
+then the press must know nothing&mdash;not a syllable.
+Do I have your promise, M'sieur Royle?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you wish," I answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And we on our part will assist you to clear
+this lady who is to be your wife&mdash;but upon one
+condition."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is what?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"That you do not seek to inquire into the real
+identity of the poor young lady who has lost her life&mdash;the
+lady known to you and others as Marie
+Bracq," he said, looking straight into my eyes
+very seriously.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>SHOWS EXPERT METHODS.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">It</span> being the luncheon hour, Fr&eacute;my and myself
+ate our meal at the highly popular restaurant,
+the Taverne Joseph, close to the Bourse, where
+the cooking is, perhaps, the best in Brussels
+and where the cosmopolitan, who knows where
+to eat, usually makes for when in the Belgian
+capital.</p>
+
+<p>After our coffee, cigarettes, and a "triple-sec"
+each, we strolled round to the General Post Office.
+As we approached that long flight of granite steps I
+knew so well, a poor-looking, ill-dressed man with
+the pinch of poverty upon his face, and his coat
+buttoned tightly against the cold, edged up to my
+companion on the pavement and whispered a word,
+afterwards hurrying on.</p>
+
+<p>"Our interesting friend has not been here
+yet," the detective remarked to me. "We
+will have a talk with the clerk at the Poste
+Restante."</p>
+
+<p>Entering the great hall, busy as it is all day,
+we approached the window where letters were
+distributed from A to L, and where sat the same
+pleasant, fair-haired man sorting letters.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Bon jour, m'sieur!" he exclaimed, when he
+caught sight of Fr&eacute;my. "What weather, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>The great detective returned his greetings,
+and then putting his head further into the window
+so that others should not overhear, said in
+French:</p>
+
+<p>"I am looking for an individual, an Englishman,
+name of Bryant, and am keeping watch outside.
+He is wanted in England for a serious offence.
+Has he been here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bryant?" repeated the clerk thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Fr&eacute;my, and then I spelt the
+name slowly.</p>
+
+<p>The clerk reached his hand to the pigeon-hole
+wherein were letters for callers whose names began
+with B, and placing them against a little block of
+black wood on the counter before him, looked eagerly
+through while we watched intently.</p>
+
+<p>Once or twice he stopped to scrutinise an address,
+but his fingers went on again through the letters
+to the end.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," he remarked laconically, replacing
+the packet in the pigeon-hole. "But there has been
+correspondence for him. I recollect&mdash;a thin-faced
+man, with grey hair and clean shaven. Yes. I
+remember him distinctly. He always called just
+before the office was closed."</p>
+
+<p>"When did he call last?" asked Fr&eacute;my
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"The night before last, I think," was the man's
+answer. "A lady was with him&mdash;a rather stout
+English lady."</p>
+
+<p>We both started.</p>
+
+<p>"Did the lady ask for any letters?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. But I forget the name."</p>
+
+<p>"Petre is her right name," I interrupted. Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>
+I suggested to Fr&eacute;my: "Ask the other clerk to look
+through the letter 'P.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Non, m'sieur!" exclaimed the fair-haired employ&eacute;e.
+"The name she asked for was in my division.
+It was not P."</p>
+
+<p>"Then she must have asked for a name that
+was not her own," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"And it seems very much as though we have lost
+the gang by a few hours," Fr&eacute;my said disappointedly.
+"My own opinion is that they left Brussels by the
+Orient Express last night. They did not call at
+the usual time yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"They may come this evening," I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly they may. We shall, of course,
+watch," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"When the man and woman called the day
+before yesterday," continued the employ&eacute;e, "there
+was a second man&mdash;a dark-faced Indian with them,
+I believe. He stood some distance away, and
+followed them out. It was his presence which
+attracted my attention and caused me to remember
+the incident."</p>
+
+<p>Fr&eacute;my exchanged looks with me. I knew he was
+cursing his fate which had allowed the precious
+trio to slip through his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>Yet the thought was gratifying that when the
+express ran into the Great Westbahnhof at Vienna,
+the detectives would at once search it for the
+fugitives.</p>
+
+<p>My companion had told me that by eight o'clock
+we would know the result of the enquiry, and I was
+anxious for that hour to arrive.</p>
+
+<p>Already Fr&eacute;my had ordered search to be made of
+arrivals at all hotels and pensions in the city for
+the name of Bryant, therefore, we could do nothing
+more than possess ourselves in patience. So we left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>
+the post office, his poverty-stricken assistant remaining
+on the watch, just as I had watched in
+the cold on the previous night.</p>
+
+<p>With my companion I walked round to the big
+Caf&eacute; Metropole on the Boulevard, and over our
+"bocks," at a table where we could not be overheard,
+we discussed the situation.</p>
+
+<p>That big caf&eacute;, one of the principal in Brussels, is
+usually deserted between the hours of three and
+four. At other times it is filled with business
+men discussing their affairs, or playing dominoes
+with that rattle which is characteristic of the
+foreign caf&eacute;.</p>
+
+<p>"Why is it," I asked him, "that your chief
+absolutely refuses to betray the identity of the
+girl Marie Bracq?"</p>
+
+<p>The round-faced man before me smiled thoughtfully
+as he idly puffed his cigarette. Then, shrugging
+his shoulders, he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, m'sieur, to tell the truth, there is a very
+curious complication. In connection with the
+affair there is a scandal which must never be allowed
+to get out to the public."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you know the truth&mdash;eh?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"A portion of it. Not all," he replied. "But I
+tell you that the news of the young lady's death
+has caused us the greatest amazement and surprise.
+We knew that she was missing, but never
+dreamed that she had been the victim of an
+assassin."</p>
+
+<p>"But who are her friends?" I demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Unfortunately, I am not permitted to say,"
+was his response. "When they know the terrible
+truth they may give us permission to reveal the
+truth to you. Till then, my duty is to preserve
+their secret."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But I am all anxiety to know."</p>
+
+<p>"I quite recognise that, M'sieur Royle," he said.
+"I know how I should feel were I in your position.
+But duty is duty, is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have assisted you, and I have given you a clue
+to the mystery," I protested.</p>
+
+<p>"And we, on our part, will assist you to clear the
+stigma resting upon the lady who is your promised
+wife," he said. "Whatever I can do in that direction,
+m'sieur may rely upon me."</p>
+
+<p>I was silent, for I saw that to attempt to probe
+further then the mystery of the actual identity
+of Marie Bracq was impossible. There seemed a
+conspiracy of silence against me.</p>
+
+<p>But I would work myself. I would exert all
+the cunning and ingenuity I possessed&mdash;nay, I would
+spend every penny I had in the world&mdash;in order to
+clear my well-beloved of that terrible suspicion
+that by her hand this daughter of a princely house
+had fallen.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," I asked at last. "What more can
+we do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" sighed the stout man, blowing a cloud
+of cigarette smoke from his lips and drawing his
+glass. "What can we do? The Poste Restante
+is being watched, the records of all hotels and pensions
+for the past month are being inspected, and
+we have put a guard upon the Orient Express. No!
+We can do nothing," he said, "until we get a telegram
+from Vienna. Will you call at the Pr&eacute;fecture
+of Police at eight o'clock to-night? I will be there
+to see you."</p>
+
+<p>I promised, then having paid the waiter, we
+strolled out of the caf&eacute;, and parted on the Boulevard,
+he going towards the Nord Station, while I
+went along in the opposite direction to the Grand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For the appointed hour I waited in greatest
+anxiety. What if the trio had been arrested in
+Vienna?</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon I wrote a long and encouraging
+letter to Phrida, telling her that I was exerting
+every effort on her behalf and urging her to keep
+a stout heart against her enemies, who now seemed
+to be in full flight.</p>
+
+<p>At last, eight o'clock came, and I entered the
+small courtyard of the Pr&eacute;fecture of Police, where
+a uniformed official conducted me up to the room
+of Inspector Fr&eacute;my.</p>
+
+<p>The big, merry-faced man rose as I entered and
+placed his cigar in an ash tray.</p>
+
+<p>"Bad luck, m'sieur!" he exclaimed in French.
+"They left Brussels in the Orient, as I suspected&mdash;all
+three of them. Here is the reply," and he handed
+me an official telegram in German, which translated
+into English read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"To Pr&eacute;fet of Police, Brussels, from Pr&eacute;fet
+of Police, Vienna:</p>
+
+<p>"In response to telegram of to-day's date, the
+three persons described left Brussels by Orient
+Express, travelled to Wels, and there left the
+train at 2.17 this afternoon. Telephonic inquiry
+of police at Wels results that they left at 4.10 by
+the express for Paris."</p></div>
+
+<p>"I have already telegraphed to Paris," Fr&eacute;my
+said. "But there is time, of course, to get across
+to Paris, and meet the express from Constantinople
+on its arrival there. Our friends evidently know
+their way about the Continent!"</p>
+
+<p>"Shall we go to Paris," I suggested eagerly, anticipating
+in triumph their arrest as they alighted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>
+at the Gare de l'Est. I had travelled by the express
+from Vienna on one occasion about a year before,
+and remembered that it arrived in Paris about nine
+o'clock in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>"With the permission of my chief I will willingly
+accompany you, m'sieur," replied the detective, and,
+leaving me, he was absent for five minutes or
+so, while I sat gazing around his bare, official-looking
+bureau, where upon the walls were many police
+notices and photographs of wanted persons, "rats
+d'hotel," and other malefactors. Brussels is one of
+the most important police centres in Europe, as
+well as being the centre of the political secret service
+of the Powers.</p>
+
+<p>On his return he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Bien, m'sieur. We leave the Midi Station at
+midnight and arrive in Paris at half-past five.
+I will engage sleeping berths, and I will telephone
+to my friend, Inspector Dricot, at the Pr&eacute;fecture,
+to send an agent of the brigade mobile to meet us.
+Non d'un chien! What a surprise it will be for the
+fugitives. But," he added, "they are clever and
+elusive. Fancy, in order to go from Brussels to
+Paris they travel right away into Austria, and
+with through tickets to Belgrade, too! Yes,
+they know the routes on the Continent&mdash;the
+routes used by the international thieves, I mean.
+The Wels route by which they travelled, is one of
+them."</p>
+
+<p>Then I left him, promising to meet him at the
+station ten minutes before midnight. I had told
+Edwards I would notify him by wire any change
+of address, therefore, on leaving the Pr&eacute;fecture of
+Police, I went to the Grand and from there sent
+a telegram to him at Scotland Yard, telling him
+that I should call at the office of the inspector of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>
+police at the East railway station in Paris at ten
+on the following morning&mdash;if he had anything
+to communicate.</p>
+
+<p>All through that night we travelled on in the
+close, stuffy <i>wagon-lit</i> by way of Mons to Paris
+arriving with some three hours and a half to spare,
+which we idled in one of the all-night caf&eacute;s near
+the station, having been met by a little ferret-eyed
+Frenchman, named Japp&eacute;, who had been
+one of Fr&eacute;my's subordinates when he was in the
+French service.</p>
+
+<p>Just before nine o'clock, after our <i>caf&eacute;-au-lait</i> in
+the buffet, we walked out upon the long arrival
+platform where the Orient Express from its long
+journey from Constantinople was due.</p>
+
+<p>It was a quarter of an hour late, but at length
+the luggage porters began to assemble, and with
+bated breath I watched the train of dusty sleeping-cars
+slowly draw into the terminus.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment Fr&eacute;my and his colleague were all
+eyes, while I stood near the engine waiting the
+result of their quest.</p>
+
+<p>But in five minutes the truth was plain. Fr&eacute;my
+was in conversation with one of the brown-uniformed
+conductors, who told him that the three passengers
+we sought did join at Wels, but had left again
+at Munich on the previous evening!</p>
+
+<p>My heart sank. Our quest was in vain. They
+had again eluded us!</p>
+
+<p>"I will go to Munich," Fr&eacute;my said at once. "I
+may find trace of them yet."</p>
+
+<p>"And I will accompany you!" I exclaimed eagerly.
+"They must not escape us."</p>
+
+<p>But my plans were at once altered, and Fr&eacute;my
+was compelled to leave for Germany alone, for at
+the police office at the station half an hour later<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>
+I received a brief message from Edwards urging me
+to return to London immediately, and stating that
+an important discovery had been made.</p>
+
+<p>So I drove across to the Gare du Nord, and left
+for London by the next train.</p>
+
+<p>What, I wondered, had been discovered?</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>EDWARDS BECOMES MORE PUZZLED.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">At</span> half-past seven on that same evening, Edwards,
+in response to a telegram I sent him from Calais,
+called upon me in Albemarle Street.</p>
+
+<p>He looked extremely grave when he entered my
+room. After Haines had taken his hat and coat
+and we were alone, he said in a low voice:</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Royle, I have a rather painful communication
+to make to you. I much regret it&mdash;but the
+truth must be faced."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" I asked, in quick apprehension; "what
+is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"We have received from an anonymous correspondent&mdash;who
+turns out to be the woman Petre,
+whom you know&mdash;a letter making the gravest accusations
+against Miss Shand. She denounces her
+as the assassin of the girl Marie Bracq."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a lie! a foul, abominable lie!" I cried
+angrily. "I told you that she would seek to condemn
+the woman I love."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I recollect. But it is a clue which I am
+in duty bound to investigate."</p>
+
+<p>"You have not been to Miss Shand&mdash;you have
+not yet questioned her?" I gasped anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Not before I saw you," he replied. "I may as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>
+well tell you at once that I had some slight suspicion
+that the young lady in question was acquainted
+with your friend who posed as Sir Digby."</p>
+
+<p>"How?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated. "Well, I thought it most likely
+that as you and he were such great friends, you
+might have introduced them," he said, rather lamely.</p>
+
+<p>"But surely you are not going to believe the
+words of this woman Petre?" I cried. "Listen,
+and I will tell you how she has already endeavoured
+to take my life, and thus leave Miss Shand at
+her mercy."</p>
+
+<p>Then, as he sat listening, his feet stretched towards
+the fender, I related in detail the startling
+adventure which befel me at Colchester.</p>
+
+<p>"Extraordinary, Mr. Royle!" he exclaimed, in
+blank surprise. "Why, in heaven's name, didn't
+you tell me this before! The snake! Why, that
+is exactly the method used by Cane to secure the
+death of the real Sir Digby!"</p>
+
+<p>"What was the use of telling you?" I queried.
+"What is the use even now? The woman has fled
+and, at the same time, takes a dastardly revenge
+upon the woman I love."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, Mr. Royle," said the inspector, who,
+in his dinner coat and black tie, presented the
+appearance of the West End club man rather than
+a police official. "Have you yourself any suspicion
+that Miss Shand has knowledge of the affair?"</p>
+
+<p>His question non-plussed me for the moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I see you hesitate!" he exclaimed,
+shrewdly. "You have a suspicion&mdash;now admit it."</p>
+
+<p>He pressed me, and seeing that my demeanour
+had, alas! betrayed my thoughts, I was compelled
+to speak the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said, in a low, strained voice. "To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>
+tell you the truth, Edwards, there are certain facts
+which I am utterly unable to understand&mdash;facts
+which Miss Shand has admitted to me. But I
+still refuse to believe that she is a murderess."</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally," he remarked, and I thought I
+detected a slightly sarcastic curl of the lips. "But
+though Miss Shand is unaware of it, I have made
+certain secret inquiries&mdash;inquiries which have given
+astounding results," he said slowly. "I have,
+unknown to the young lady, secured some of her
+finger-prints, which, on comparison, have coincided
+exactly with those found upon the glass-topped
+table at Harrington Gardens, and also
+with those which you brought to me so mysteriously."
+And he added, "To be quite frank, it
+was that action of yours which first aroused my
+suspicion regarding Miss Shand. I saw that you
+suspected some one&mdash;that you were trying to prove to
+your own satisfaction that your theory was wrong."</p>
+
+<p>I held my breath, cursing myself for such
+injudicious action.</p>
+
+<p>"Again, this letter from the woman Petre has
+corroborated my apprehensions," he went on.
+"Miss Shand was a friend of the man who called
+himself Sir Digby. She met him clandestinely,
+unknown, to you&mdash;eh?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Please do not question me, Edwards," I implored.
+"This is all so extremely painful to me."</p>
+
+<p>"I regret, but it is my duty, Mr. Royle,"
+he replied in a tone of sympathy. "Is not my
+suggestion the true one?"</p>
+
+<p>I admitted that it was.</p>
+
+<p>Then, in quick, brief sentences I told him of my
+visit to the Pr&eacute;fecture of Police in Brussels and
+all that I had discovered regarding the fugitives, to
+which he listened most attentively.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"They have not replied to my inquiry concerning
+the dead girl Marie Bracq," he remarked
+presently.</p>
+
+<p>"They know her," I replied. "Van Huffel,
+the <i>Chef du Suret&eacute;</i>, stood aghast when I told him that
+the man Kemsley was wanted by you on a charge
+of murdering her. He declared that the allegation
+utterly astounded him, and that the press must
+have no suspicion of the affair, as a great scandal
+would result."</p>
+
+<p>"But who is the girl?" he inquired quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Van Huffel refused to satisfy my curiosity.
+He declared that her identity was a secret which
+he was not permitted to divulge, but he added
+when I pressed him, that she was a daughter of
+one of the princely houses of Europe!"</p>
+
+<p>Edwards stared at me.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what is her real name?" he said,
+reflectively. "Really, Mr. Royle, the affair grows
+more and more interesting and puzzling."</p>
+
+<p>"It does," I said, and then I related in detail
+my fruitless journey to Paris, and how the three
+fugitives had alighted at Munich from the westbound
+express from the Near East, and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Fr&eacute;my, whom I think you know, has gone
+after them," I added.</p>
+
+<p>"If Fr&eacute;my once gets on the scent he'll, no doubt,
+find them," remarked my companion. "He's one
+of the most astute and clever detectives in Europe.
+So, if the case is in his hands, I'm quite contented
+that all will be done to trace them."</p>
+
+<p>For two hours we sat together, while I related
+what the girl at Melbourne House had told me,
+and, in fact, put before him practically all that I
+have recorded in the foregoing pages.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then, at last, I stood before him boldly and asked:</p>
+
+<p>"In face of all this, can you suspect Miss Shand?
+Is she not that man's victim?"</p>
+
+<p>He did not speak for several moments; his gaze
+was fixed upon the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he replied, stirring himself at last, "to
+tell you the truth, Mr. Royle, I'm just as puzzled
+as you are. She may be the victim of this man we
+know to be an unscrupulous adventurer, but, at the
+same time, her hand may have used that triangular-bladed
+knife which we have been unable to find."</p>
+
+<p>The knife! I held my breath. Was it not lying
+openly upon that table in the corner of the drawing-room
+at Cromwell Road? Would not analysis
+reveal upon it a trace of human blood? Would
+not its possession in itself convict her?</p>
+
+<p>"Then what is your intention?" I asked, at last.</p>
+
+<p>"To see her and put a few questions, Mr. Royle,"
+he answered slowly. "I know how much this must
+pain you, bearing in mind your deep affection for the
+young lady, but, unfortunately, it is my duty, and
+I cannot see how such a course can be avoided."</p>
+
+<p>"No. I beg of you not to do this," I implored.
+"Keep what observation you like, but do not
+approach her&mdash;at least, not yet. In her present
+frame of mind, haunted by the shadow of the crime
+and hemmed in by suspicion of which she cannot
+clear herself, it would be fatal."</p>
+
+<p>"Fatal! I don't understand you."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;she would take her own life," I said in
+a low whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"She has threatened&mdash;eh?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>I nodded in the affirmative.</p>
+
+<p>"Then does not that, in itself, justify my decision
+to see and question her?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it does not!" I protested. "She is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>
+guilty, but this terrible dread and anxiety is, I know,
+gradually unbalancing her brain. She is a girl
+of calm determination, and if she believed that
+you suspected her she would be driven by sheer
+terror to carry out her threat."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Most women threaten suicide at one time or
+other of their lives. Their thoughts seem to revert
+to romance as soon as they find themselves in a
+corner. No," he added. "I never believe in threats
+of suicide in either man or woman. Life is always
+too precious for that, and especially if a woman
+loves, as she does."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know her."</p>
+
+<p>"No, but I know women, Mr. Royle&mdash;I know
+all their idiosyncrasies as well as most men, I think,"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>I begged him not to approach my well-beloved,
+but he was inexorable.</p>
+
+<p>"I must see her&mdash;and I must know the truth,"
+he declared decisively.</p>
+
+<p>But I implored again of him, begging him to
+spare her&mdash;begged her life.</p>
+
+<p>I had gripped him by the hand, and looking into
+his face I pointed out that I had done and was
+doing all I could to elucidate the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>"At least," I cried, "you will wait until the
+fugitives are arrested!"</p>
+
+<p>"There is only one&mdash;the impostor," he said.
+"There is no charge against the others."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will lay a charge to-night against the
+woman Petre and the man Ali of attempting to kill
+me." I said. "The two names can then be added
+to the warrant."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he said. "We'll go to the Yard,
+and I will take your information."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And you will not approach Phrida until you
+hear something from Brussels&mdash;eh?" I asked
+persuasively. "In the meantime, I will do all I
+can. Leave Miss Shand to me."</p>
+
+<p>"If I did it would be a grave dereliction of duty,"
+he replied slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"But is it a dereliction of duty to disregard
+allegations made by a woman who has fled in that
+man's company, and who is, we now know, his
+accomplice?" I protested. "Did not you yourself
+tell me that you, at Scotland Yard, always regarded
+lightly any anonymous communication?"</p>
+
+<p>"As a rule we do. But past history shows
+that many have been genuine," he said. "Before
+the commission of nearly all the Jack the Ripper
+crimes there were anonymous letters, written in
+red ink. We have them now framed and hanging
+up in the Black Museum."</p>
+
+<p>"But such letters are not denunciations. They
+were promises of a further sensation," I argued.
+"The triumphant and gleeful declarations of the
+mad but mysterious assassin. No. Promise me,
+Edwards, that you will postpone this projected
+step of yours, which can, in any case, even though
+my love be innocent, only result in dire disaster."</p>
+
+<p>He saw how earnest was my appeal, and realised,
+I think, the extreme gravity of the situation, and
+how deeply it concerned me. He seemed, also,
+to recognise that in discovering the name of the
+victim and in going a second time to Brussels, I
+had been able to considerably advance the most
+difficult inquiry; therefore, after still another
+quarter of an hour of persuasion, I induced him
+to withhold.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he replied, "though I can make no
+definite promise, Mr. Royle. I will not see the lady<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>
+before I have again consulted with you. But,"
+he added, "I must be frank with you. I shall
+continue my investigations in that quarter, and
+most probably watch will be kept upon her
+movements."</p>
+
+<p>"And if she recognises that you suspect her?"
+I gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he exclaimed, with a slight shrug of the
+shoulders. "I cannot accept any responsibility
+for that. How can I?"</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>FURTHER ADMISSIONS.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2">"<span class="smcap">The</span> secret of Digby Kemsley is still a secret,
+and will ever remain a secret."</p>
+
+<p>I recollected Mrs. Petre uttering those words to me
+as that dark-faced villain Ali had forced my inert
+head down upon the table.</p>
+
+<p>Well, that same night when I had begged of
+Edwards my love's life, I sat in his room at Scotland
+Yard and there made a formal declaration of what
+had happened to me on that well-remembered
+night outside Colchester. I formally demanded
+the arrest of the woman, of Ali, and of the young
+man-servant, all of whom had conspired to take
+my life.</p>
+
+<p>The clerk calmly took down my statement, which
+Edwards read over to me, and I duly signed it.</p>
+
+<p>Then, gripping his hand, I went forth into Parliament
+Street, and took a taxi to Cromwell Road.</p>
+
+<p>I had not seen Phrida for several days, and she
+was delighted at my visit.</p>
+
+<p>She presented a pale, frail, little figure in her
+simple gown of pale pink ninon, cut slightly open
+at the neck and girdled narrow with turquoise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>
+blue. Her skirt was narrow, as was the mode, and
+her long white arms were bare to the shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>She had been curled up before the fire reading
+when I entered, but she jumped up with an
+expression of welcome upon her lips.</p>
+
+<p>But not until her mother had bade me good-night
+and discreetly withdrew, did she refer to the subject
+which I knew obsessed her by night and by day.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Teddy," she asked, when I sat alone
+with her upon the pale green silk-covered couch,
+her little hand in mine, "Where have you been?
+Why have you remained silent?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've been in Brussels," I replied, and then,
+quite frankly, I explained my quest after the
+impostor.</p>
+
+<p>She sat looking straight before her, her eyes
+fixed like a person, in a dream. At last she spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"I thought," she said in a strained voice, "that
+you would have shown greater respect for me than
+to do that&mdash;when you knew it would place you in
+such great peril!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have acted in your own interests, dearest,"
+I replied, placing my arm tenderly about her neck.
+"Ah! in what manner you will never know."</p>
+
+<p>"My interests!" she echoed, in despair. "Have
+I not told you that on the day Digby Kemsley
+is arrested I intend to end my life," and as she
+drew a long breath, I saw in her eyes that haunted,
+terrified look which told me that she was
+driven to desperation.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," I urged, stroking her hair with tenderness.
+"I know all that you must suffer, Phrida,
+but I am your friend and your protector. I will
+never rest until I get at the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Revelation of the truth will, alas! prove
+my undoing!" she whispered, in a voice full of fear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>
+"You don't know, dear, how your relentless chase
+of that man is placing me in danger."</p>
+
+<p>"But he is an adventurer, an impostor&mdash;a fugitive
+from justice, and he merits punishment!" I cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! And if you say that," she cried, wildly
+starting to her feet. "So do I! So do I!"</p>
+
+<p>"Come, calm yourself, dearest," I said, placing
+my hand upon her shoulder and forcing her back
+into her chair. "You are upset to-night," and I
+kissed her cold, white lips. "May I ring for
+Mallock? Wouldn't you like to go to your
+room?"</p>
+
+<p>She drew a deep sigh, and with an effort repressed
+the tears welling in her deep-set, haunted eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she faltered in her emotion. "Perhaps
+I had better. I&mdash;I cannot bear this strain much
+longer. You told me that the police did not suspect
+me, but&mdash;but, now I know they do. A man has
+been watching outside the house all day for two
+days past. Yes," she sobbed, "they will come,
+come to arrest me, but they will only find that&mdash;that
+I've cheated them!"</p>
+
+<p>"They will not come," I answered her. "I
+happen to know more than I can tell you, Phrida,"
+I whispered. "You need have no fear of
+arrest."</p>
+
+<p>"But that woman Petre! She may denounce
+me&mdash;she will, I know!"</p>
+
+<p>"They take no notice of such allegations at
+Scotland Yard. They receive too much wild
+correspondence," I declared. "No, dearest, go to
+bed and rest&mdash;rest quite assured that at present
+you are in no peril, and, further, that every hour
+which elapses brings us nearer a solution of the
+tragic and tantalising problem. May I ring for
+Mallock?" I asked, again kissing her passionately<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>
+upon those lips, hard and cold as marble, my
+heart full of sympathy for her in her tragic
+despair.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she responded faintly in a voice so low that
+I could hardly catch it. So I crossed and rang
+the bell for her maid.</p>
+
+<p>Then, when she had kissed me good-night, looking
+into my eyes with a strange expression of wistfulness,
+and left the room, I dashed across to
+that little table whereon the ivory-hilted knife was
+lying and seized the important piece of evidence,
+so that it might not fall into Edwards' hands.</p>
+
+<p>I held it within my fingers, and taking it across
+to the fireplace, examined it in the strong light.
+The ivory was yellow and old, carved with the
+escutcheon bearing the three balls, the arms of the
+great House of Medici. The blade, about seven
+inches long, was keen, triangular, and, at the point,
+sharp as a needle. Into it the rust of centuries had
+eaten, though in parts it was quite bright, evidently
+due to recent cleaning.</p>
+
+<p>I was examining it for any stains that might be
+upon it&mdash;stains of the life-blood of Marie Bracq.
+But I could find none. No. They had been
+carefully removed, yet chemical analysis would,
+without doubt, reveal inevitable traces of the
+ghastly truth.</p>
+
+<p>I had my back to the door, and was still holding
+the deadly weapon in my hand, scrutinising it
+closely, when I heard a slight movement behind
+me, and turning, confronted Phrida, standing erect
+and rigid, like a statue.</p>
+
+<p>Her face was white as death, her thin hands
+clenched, her haunted eyes fixed upon me.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I see!" she cried hoarsely. "You know&mdash;eh?
+You <i>know</i>!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No. I do not <i>know</i>, Phrida," was my deep
+reply, as I snatched her hand and held it in my
+own. "I only surmise that this knife was used
+on that fatal night, because of the unusual shape
+of its blade&mdash;because of the medical evidence that
+by such a knife Marie Bracq was killed."</p>
+
+<p>She drew a deep breath.</p>
+
+<p>"And you are taking it as evidence&mdash;against
+me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Evidence against you, darling!" I echoed in
+reproach. "Do you think that I, the man who
+loves you, is endeavouring to convict you of a
+crime? No. Leave matters to me. I am your
+friend&mdash;not your enemy!"</p>
+
+<p>A silence fell between us. She neither answered
+nor did she move for some moments. Then she
+said in a deep wistful tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! if I could only believe that you are!"</p>
+
+<p>"But I am," I declared vehemently. "I love you,
+Phrida, with all my soul, and I will never believe ill
+of you&mdash;never, never!"</p>
+
+<p>"How can you do otherwise in these terrible
+circumstances?" she queried, with a strange contraction
+of her brows.</p>
+
+<p>"I love you, and because I love you so dearly&mdash;because
+you are all the world to me," I said, pressing
+her to my heart, "I will never accept what an
+enemy may allege&mdash;never, until you are permitted
+to relate your own story."</p>
+
+<p>I still held the weapon in my hand, and I saw that
+her eyes wandered to it.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Teddy!" she cried, with sudden emotion.
+"How can I thank you sufficiently for those words?
+Take that horrible thing and hide it&mdash;hide it anywhere
+from my eyes, for sight of it brings all the
+past back to me. Yet&mdash;yet I was afraid," she went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>
+on, "I dare not hide it, lest any one should ask what
+had become of it, and thus suspicions might be
+aroused. Ah! every time I have come into this
+room it has haunted me&mdash;I seem to see that terrible
+scene before my eyes&mdash;how&mdash;how they&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But she broke off short, and covering her face
+with both hands added, after a few seconds'
+silence:</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! yes, take it away&mdash;never let me gaze
+upon it again. But I beg of you, dear, to&mdash;to
+preserve my secret&mdash;my terrible secret!"</p>
+
+<p>And she burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a single word shall pass my lips, neither
+shall a single soul see this knife. I will take it
+and cast it away&mdash;better to the bottom of the
+Thames. To-night it shall be in a place where it
+can never be found. So go to your room, and rest
+assured that you, darling, have at least one friend&mdash;myself."</p>
+
+<p>I felt her breast heave and fall as I held her in
+my strong embrace.</p>
+
+<p>Then without words she raised her white, tear-stained
+face and kissed me long and fondly; afterwards
+she left me, and in silence tottered from the
+room, closing the door after her.</p>
+
+<p>I still held the knife in my hand&mdash;the weapon
+by which the terrible deed had been perpetrated.</p>
+
+<p>What could I think? What would you, my
+reader, have thought if the woman you love stood in
+the same position as Phrida Shand&mdash;which God
+forbid?</p>
+
+<p>I stood reflecting, gazing upon the antique poignard.
+Then slowly and deliberately I made up
+my mind, and placing the unsheathed knife in
+my breast pocket I went out into the hall, put
+on my coat and hat, and left the house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later I halted casually upon Westminster
+Bridge, and when no one was near, cast
+the ancient "Misericordia" into the dark
+flowing waters of the river, knowing that Edwards
+and his inquisitive assistants could never recover
+it as evidence against my love.</p>
+
+<p>Four days later I received a letter from Fr&eacute;my,
+dated from the Hotel National at Strasbourg,
+stating that he had traced the fugitives from Munich
+to the latter city, but there he had lost all trace of
+them. He believed they had gone to Paris, and
+with his chief's permission he was leaving for the
+French capital that night.</p>
+
+<p>Weeks passed&mdash;weeks of terror and apprehension
+for my love, and of keenest anxiety for myself.</p>
+
+<p>The month of May went by, spring with all her
+beauties appeared in the parks and faded in the
+heat and dust, while the London season commenced.
+Men who were otherwise never seen in town, strolled
+up and down St. James's Street and Piccadilly,
+smart women rode in the Row in the morning and
+gave parties at night, while the usual crop of charitable
+functions, society scandals, Parliamentary
+debates, and puff-paragraphs in the papers about
+Lady Nobody's dances showed the gay world
+of London to be in full swing.</p>
+
+<p>My mantelshelf was well decorated with cards
+of invitation, for, nowadays, the bachelor in London
+can have a really good time if he chooses, yet I
+accepted few, spending most of my days immersed
+in business&mdash;in order to occupy my thoughts&mdash;while
+my evenings I spent at Cromwell Road.</p>
+
+<p>For weeks Phrida had not referred to the tragedy
+in any way, and I had been extremely careful to
+avoid the subject. Yet, from her pale, drawn countenance&mdash;so
+unlike her former self&mdash;I knew how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>
+recollection of it ever haunted her, and what dread
+terror had gripped her young heart.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Shand, ignorant of the truth, had many
+times expressed to me confidentially, fear that her
+daughter was falling into a bad state of health;
+and, against Phrida's wishes, had called in the
+family doctor, who, likewise ignorant, had ordered
+her abroad.</p>
+
+<p>"Get her out of the dullness of this road, Mrs.
+Shand," he had said. "She wants change and
+excitement. Take her to some gay place on the
+Continent&mdash;Dinard, Trouville, Aix-les-Bains, Ostend&mdash;some
+place where there is brightness and
+movement. A few weeks there will effect a great
+change in her, I'm certain."</p>
+
+<p>But Phrida refused to leave London, though I
+begged her to follow the doctor's advice, and even
+offered to accompany them.</p>
+
+<p>As far as I could gather, Van Huffel, in Brussels,
+had given up the search for the fugitives; though,
+the more I reflected upon his replies to my questions
+as to the real identity of Marie Bracq, the
+more remarkable they seemed.</p>
+
+<p>Who was she? That was the great problem
+uppermost always in my mind. Phrida had declared
+that she only knew her by that name&mdash;that
+she knew nothing further concerning
+her. And so frankly had she said this, that I
+believed her.</p>
+
+<p>Yet I argued that, if the death of Marie Bracq
+was of such serious moment as the <i>Chef du Suret&eacute;</i>
+had declared, then he surely would not allow the
+inquiry to drop without making the most strenuous
+efforts to arrest those suspected of the crime.</p>
+
+<p>But were his suspicions, too, directed towards
+Phrida? Had he, I wondered, been in consultation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>
+with Edwards, and had the latter, in confidence,
+revealed to him his own theory?</p>
+
+<p>I held my breath each time that idea crossed
+my mind&mdash;as it did so very often.</p>
+
+<p>From Fr&eacute;my I had had several letters dated from
+the Pr&eacute;fecture of Police, Brussels, but the tenor
+of all was the same&mdash;nothing to report.</p>
+
+<p>One thing gratified me. Edwards had not approached
+my love, although I knew full well, just
+as Phrida did, that day after day observation was
+being kept upon the house in Cromwell Road, yet
+perhaps only because the detective's duty demanded
+it. At least I tried to think so.</p>
+
+<p>Still the one fact remained that, after all our
+efforts&mdash;the efforts of Scotland Yard, of the Belgian
+police, and of my own eager inquiries&mdash;a solution of
+the problem was as far off as ever.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhere there existed a secret&mdash;a secret that,
+as Phrida had declared to me, was inviolable.</p>
+
+<p>Would it ever be revealed? Would the ghastly
+truth ever be laid bare?</p>
+
+<p>The affair of Harrington Gardens was indeed a
+mystery of London&mdash;as absolute and perfect an
+enigma of crime as had ever been placed before that
+committee of experts at Scotland Yard&mdash;the Council
+of Seven.</p>
+
+<p>Even they had failed to find a solution! How,
+then, could I ever hope to be successful?</p>
+
+<p>When I thought of it, I paced my lonely room
+in a frenzy of despair.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SELLER OF SHAWLS.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">After</span> much eloquent persuasion on my part, and
+much straight talking on the part of the spectacled
+family doctor, and of Mrs. Shand, Phrida at last,
+towards the last days of June, allowed us to take
+her to Dinard, where, at the Hotel Royal, we spent
+three pleasant weeks, making many automobile
+excursions to Trouville, to Dinan, and other places
+in the neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p>The season had scarcely commenced, nevertheless
+the weather was perfect, and gradually I had the
+satisfaction of seeing the colour return to the soft
+cheeks of my well-beloved.</p>
+
+<p>Before leaving London I had, of course, seen
+Edwards, and, knowing that watch was being kept
+upon her, I accepted the responsibility of reporting
+daily upon my love's movements, she being still
+under suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>"I ought not to do this, Mr. Royle," he had
+said, "but the circumstances are so unusual that I
+feel I may stretch a point in the young lady's favour
+without neglecting my duty. And after all," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
+added, "we have no direct evidence&mdash;at least not
+sufficient to justify an arrest."</p>
+
+<p>"Why doesn't that woman Petre come forward
+and boldly make her statement personally?" I
+had queried.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she may know that you are still alive"&mdash;he
+laughed&mdash;"and if so&mdash;she's afraid to go further."</p>
+
+<p>I questioned him regarding his inquiries concerning
+the actual identity of Marie Bracq, but he only
+raised his eyebrows and replied:</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Mr. Royle, I know nothing more than
+you do. They no doubt possess some information
+in Brussels, but they are careful to keep it there."</p>
+
+<p>And so I had accompanied Phrida and her mother,
+hoping that the change of air and scenery might
+cause her to forget the shadow of guilt which now
+seemed to rest upon her and to crush all life and
+hope from her young heart.</p>
+
+<p>Tiring of Dinard, Mrs. Shand hired a big, grey
+touring-car, and together we went first through
+Brittany, then to Vannes, Nantes, and up to Tours,
+afterwards visiting the famous chateaux of Touraine,
+Amboise Loches, and the rest, the weather being
+warm and delightful, and the journey one of the
+pleasantest and most picturesque in Europe.</p>
+
+<p>When July came, Phrida appeared greatly improved
+in both health and spirits. Yet was it only
+pretence? Did she in the lonely watches of the night
+still suffer that mental torture which I knew, alas!
+she had suffered, for her own deep-set eyes, and pale,
+sunken cheeks had revealed to me the truth. Each
+time I sat down and wrote that confidential note
+to Edwards, I hated myself&mdash;that I was set to
+spy upon the woman I loved with all my heart
+and soul.</p>
+
+<p>Would the truth never be told? Would the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>
+mystery of that tragic January night in South
+Kensington never be elucidated?</p>
+
+<p>One evening in the busy but pleasant town of
+Tours, Mrs. Shand having complained of headache
+after a long, all-day excursion in the car, Phrida
+and I sauntered out after dinner, and after a brief
+walk sat down outside one of those big caf&eacute;s where
+the tables are placed out beneath the leafy chestnut
+trees of the boulevard.</p>
+
+<p>The night was hot and stifling, and as we sat
+there chatting over our coffee amid a crowd of
+people enjoying the air after the heat of the day,
+a dark-faced, narrow-eyed Oriental in a fez, with a
+number of Oriental rugs and cheap shawls, came and
+stood before us, in the manner of those itinerant
+vendors who haunt Continental caf&eacute;s.</p>
+
+<p>He said nothing, but, standing like a bronze
+statue, he looked hard at me and pointed solemnly
+at a quantity of lace which he held in his left hand.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I want nothing," I replied in French,
+shaking my head.</p>
+
+<p>"Ve-ry cheep, sare!" he exclaimed in broken
+English at last. "You no buy for laidee?" and
+he showed his white teeth with a pleasant grin.</p>
+
+<p>I again replied in the negative, perhaps a little
+impatiently, when suddenly Phrida whispered to me:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, we saw this same man in Dinard, and in
+another place&mdash;I forget where. He haunts us!"</p>
+
+<p>"These men go from town to town," I explained.
+"They make a complete round of France."</p>
+
+<p>Then I suddenly recollected that the man's face
+was familiar. I had seen him outside the Piccadilly
+Tube Station on the night of my tryst with
+Mrs. Petre!</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, laidee!" exclaimed the man, who had overheard
+Phrida's words. "I see you Dinard&mdash;Hotel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>
+Royal&mdash;eh?" he said with a smile. "Will you
+buy my lace&mdash;seelk lace; ve-ry cheep?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know it's cheap," I laughed; "but we don't
+want it."</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, he placed it upon the little marble-topped
+table for our inspection, and then bending,
+he whispered into my ear a question:</p>
+
+<p>"Mee-ster Royle you&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said, starting.</p>
+
+<p>"I want see you, to-night, alone. Say no-ting to
+laidee till I see you&mdash;outside your hotel eleven
+o'clock, sare&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>I sat staring at him in blank surprise, but in a
+low voice I consented.</p>
+
+<p>Then, very cleverly he asked in his normal voice,
+looking at me with his narrow eyes, with dark
+brows meeting:</p>
+
+<p>"You no buy at that price&mdash;eh? Ah!" and he
+sighed as he gathered up his wares: "Cheep, laidee&mdash;very
+goot and cheep!"</p>
+
+<p>And bowing, he slung them upon the heavy pile
+already on his shoulder and stalked away.</p>
+
+<p>"What did he say?" Phrida asked when he
+had gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, only wanted me to buy the lot for five
+francs!" I replied, for he had enjoined secrecy, and
+I knew not but he might be an emissary of Fr&eacute;my
+or of Edwards. Therefore I deemed it best for the
+time to evade her question.</p>
+
+<p>Still, both excited and puzzled, I eagerly kept
+the appointment.</p>
+
+<p>When I emerged from the hotel on the stroke of
+eleven I saw the man without his pile of merchandise
+standing in the shadow beneath a tree, on the
+opposite side of the boulevard, awaiting me.</p>
+
+<p>Quickly I crossed to him, and asked:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you want with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Mee-ster Royle! I have watched you and the
+young laidee a long time. You travel so quickly,
+and I go by train from town to town&mdash;slowly."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but why?" I asked, as we strolled
+together under the trees.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to tell you some-zing, mee-ster. I no
+Arabe&mdash;I Senos, from Huacho."</p>
+
+<p>"From Huacho!" I gasped quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yees. My dead master he English&mdash;Sir Digby
+Kemsley!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Digby!" I cried. "And you were his
+servant. You knew this man Cane&mdash;why, you were
+the man who heard your master curse the man
+who placed the deadly reptile against his face. You
+made a statement to the police, did you not?" I
+asked frantically.</p>
+
+<p>"Yees, Mee-ster Royle&mdash;I did! I know a lot,"
+he replied in his slow way, stalking along in the
+short breeches, red velvet jacket, and fez of an
+Oriental.</p>
+
+<p>"You will tell me, Senos?" I said. "You will
+tell me everything?" I urged. "Tell me all that
+you know!"</p>
+
+<p>He grinned in triumph, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"I know a lot&mdash;I know all. Cane killed my
+master&mdash;killed him with the snake&mdash;he and Luis
+together. I know&mdash;I saw. But the Englishman is
+always great, and his word believed by the commissary
+of police&mdash;not the word of Senos. Oh, no! but
+I have followed; I have watched. I have been
+beside Cane night and day when he never dream I
+was near. I tell the young lady all the truth, and&mdash;ah!&mdash;she
+tell him after I beg her to be silent."</p>
+
+<p>"But where is Cane now?" I asked eagerly.
+"Do you know?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The 'Red' Englishman&mdash;he with Madame
+Petre and Luis&mdash;he call himself Ali, the Indian."</p>
+
+<p>"Where? Can you take me to them?" I asked.
+"You know there is a warrant out for their arrest?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But what?" I cried.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not yet. I wait," he laughed. "I know
+every-ting. He kill my master; I kill him. My
+master be very good master."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know he was," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"That man Cane&mdash;very bad man. Your poor
+young laidee&mdash;ah? She not know me. I know
+her. You no say you see me&mdash;eh? I tell every-ting
+later. You go Ostend; I meet you. Then we see
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"At Ostend!" I cried. "Are they there?"</p>
+
+<p>"You go Ostend to-morrow. Tell me your hotel.
+Senos come&mdash;eh? Senos see them with you. Oh!
+Oh!" he said in his quaint way, grinning from ear
+to ear.</p>
+
+<p>I looked at the curious figure beside me. He was
+the actual man who had heard the dying cries of
+Sir Digby Kemsley.</p>
+
+<p>"But, tell me," I urged, "have you been in
+London? Do you know that a young lady died in
+Cane's apartment&mdash;was killed there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Senos knows," he laughed grimly. "Senos has
+not left him&mdash;ah, no! He kill my master. I never
+leave him till I crush him&mdash;never!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you know, of what occurred at Harrington
+Gardens?" I repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Senos know. He tell in Ostend when we
+meet," he replied. "You go to-morrow, eh?" and
+he looked at me anxiously with those dark, rather
+blood-shot eyes of his.</p>
+
+<p>"I will go to-morrow," I answered without hesita<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>tion;
+and, taking out my wallet I gave him three
+notes of a hundred francs each, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"This will pay your fare. I will go straight to
+the Grand Hotel, on the Digue. You will meet me
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"And the laidee&mdash;eh? She must be there too."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miss Shand will be with me," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Good, sare&mdash;very good!" he replied, thrusting
+the notes into the inner pocket of his red velvet
+jacket. "I get other clothes&mdash;these only to sell
+things," and he smiled.</p>
+
+<p>I tried to induce him to tell me more, but he
+refused, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"At Ostend Senos show you. He tell you all
+he know&mdash;he tell the truth about the 'Red'
+Englishman."</p>
+
+<p>And presently, after he had refused the drink I
+offered him, the Peruvian, who was earning his
+living as an Arab of North Africa, bowed with
+politeness and left me, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"I meet you, Mee-ster Royle, at Grand Hotel in
+Ostend. But be careful neither of you seen. They
+are sharp, clever, alert&mdash;oh, ve-ry! We leave
+to-morrow&mdash;eh? Good!"</p>
+
+<p>And a moment later the quaint figure was lost in
+the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later, though past midnight, I despatched
+two long telegrams&mdash;one to Fr&eacute;my in Brussels, and
+the other to Edwards in London.</p>
+
+<p>Then, two days later, by dint of an excuse that I
+had urgent business in Ostend, I found myself with
+Phrida and Mrs. Shand, duly installed, in rooms
+overlooking the long, sunny Digue, one of the finest
+sea-promenades in Europe.</p>
+
+<p>Ostend had begun her season, the racing season
+had commenced, and all the hotels had put on coats<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>
+of new, white paint, and opened their doors, while
+in the huge Kursaal they played childish games of
+chance now that M. Marquet was no longer king&mdash;yet
+the magnificent orchestra was worth a journey
+to listen to.</p>
+
+<p>On the afternoon of our arrival, all was gay and
+bright; outside the blue sea, the crowd of well-dressed
+promenaders, and the golden sands where
+the bathing was so merry and so chic.</p>
+
+<p>But I had no eyes for the beauties or gaiety
+of the place. I sat closeted in my room with two
+friends, Fr&eacute;my and Edwards, whom I introduced
+and who quickly fraternised.</p>
+
+<p>A long explanatory letter I had written to Brussels
+had reached Fr&eacute;my before his departure from the
+capital.</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent," he was saying, his round, clean-shaven
+face beaming. "This Peruvian evidently
+knows where they are, and like all natives,
+wants to make a <i>coup-de-theatre</i>. I've brought
+two reliable men with me from Brussels, and we
+ought&mdash;if they are really here&mdash;to make a good
+capture."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Shand knows nothing, you say?" Edwards
+remarked, seated on the edge of my bed.</p>
+
+<p>"No. This man Senos was very decided upon
+the point."</p>
+
+<p>"He has reasons, no doubt," remarked the
+detective.</p>
+
+<p>"It is just four o'clock," I remarked. "He has
+given me a rendezvous at the Caf&eacute; de la R&egrave;gence,
+a little place at the corner of the Place d'Armes. I
+went round to find it as soon as I arrived. We're
+due there in a quarter of an hour."</p>
+
+<p>"Then let us go, messieurs," Fr&eacute;my suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"And what about Miss Shand?" I asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The two detectives held a brief discussion. Then
+Edwards, addressing me, said:</p>
+
+<p>"I really think that she ought to be present, Mr.
+Royle. Would you bring her? Prepare her for
+a scene&mdash;as there no doubt will be&mdash;and then
+follow us."</p>
+
+<p>"But Senos will not speak without I am present,"
+I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Then go along to Miss Shand, give her my
+official compliments and ask her to accompany
+us upon our expedition," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>And upon his suggestion I at once acted.</p>
+
+<p>Truly those moments were breathless and exciting.
+I could hear my own heart beat as I went along the
+hotel corridor to knock at the door of her room.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX.</h2>
+
+<h3>FACE TO FACE.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2"><span class="smcap">We</span> had, all four of us, ranged ourselves up under
+the wall of a big white house in the Chausee de
+Nieuport, which formed the south side of the racecourse,
+and where, between us and the sea, rose
+the colossal Royal Palace Hotel, when Fr&eacute;my
+advanced to the big varnished oak door, built
+wide for the entrance of automobiles, and rang
+the electric bell.</p>
+
+<p>In response there came out a sedate, white-whiskered
+man-servant in black coat and striped
+yellow waistcoat, the novel Belgium livery, but
+in an instant he was pinioned by the two detectives
+from Brussels, and the way opened for us.</p>
+
+<p>"No harm, old one!" cried the detectives in
+French, after the man had admitted his master was
+at home. "We are police-agents, and doing our
+duty. We don't want you, only we don't intend
+you to cry out, that's all. Keep a still tongue, old
+one, and you're all right!" they laughed as they
+kept grip of him. The Continental detective is
+always humorous in the exercise of his duty.
+I once witnessed in Italy a man arrested for murder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>
+He had on a thin light suit, and having been to bed
+in it, the back was terribly pleated and creased.
+"Hulloa!" cried the detective, "so it is you.
+Come along, old dried fig!" I was compelled to
+laugh, for the culprit's thin, brown coat had all the
+creases of a Christmas fig.</p>
+
+<p>The house we rushed in was a big, luxurious one,
+with a wide passage running through to the Garage,
+and on the left a big, wide marble staircase with
+windows of stained glass and statues of dancing
+girls of the art nouveau.</p>
+
+<p>Fr&eacute;my, leaving his assistants below with the
+man-servant, and crying to Edwards to look out
+for anybody trying to escape, sprang up the marble
+steps three at a time, followed by the narrow-eyed
+Peruvian, while Phrida, clinging to my arm, held
+her breath in quick apprehension. She was full of
+fear and amazement.</p>
+
+<p>I had had much difficulty in persuading her to
+accompany us, for she seemed in terror of denunciation.
+Indeed, not until I told her that Edwards had
+demanded her presence, had she consented.</p>
+
+<p>On the first landing, a big, thick-carpeted place
+with a number of long, white doors leading into
+various apartments, Fr&eacute;my halted and raised his
+finger in silence to us.</p>
+
+<p>He stood glancing from door to door, wondering
+which to enter.</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly he stood and gave a yell as though
+of fearful pain.</p>
+
+<p>In an instant there was a quick movement in a
+room on the right, the door opened and the woman
+Petre came forth in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>Next second, however, finding herself face to face
+with me, she halted upon the threshold and fell back
+against the lintel of the door while we rushed in to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>
+encounter the man I had known as Digby, standing
+defiant, with arms folded and brows knit.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he demanded of me angrily. "What
+do you want here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've brought a friend of yours to see you, Mr.
+Cane," I said quietly, and Edwards stepped aside
+from the door to admit the Peruvian Senos.</p>
+
+<p>The effect was instant and indeed dramatic. His
+face fell, his eyes glared, his teeth set, and his
+nails dug themselves into his palms.</p>
+
+<p>"Mee-ster Cane," laughed the dark-faced native,
+in triumph. "You no like see Senos&mdash;eh? No, no.
+He know too much&mdash;eh? He watch you always
+after he see you with laidee in Marseilles&mdash;he see you
+in London&mdash;ha! ha! Senos know every-ting. You
+kill my master, and you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a lie!" cried the man accused. "This
+fellow made the same statement at Huacho, and it
+was disproved."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you admit you are not Sir Digby Kemsley?"
+exclaimed Edwards quickly. "You are Herbert
+Cane, and I have a warrant for your arrest for
+murder."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he laughed with an air of forced gaiety.
+"That is amusing!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm very glad you think so, my dear sir,"
+remarked the detective, glancing round to where
+the woman Petre had been placed in an armchair
+quite unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>Phrida was clinging to my arm, but uttered no
+word. I felt her fingers trembling as she gripped me.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you believe this native&mdash;eh?" asked
+the accused with sarcasm. "He tried to blackmail
+me in Peru, and because I refused to be bled he
+made a statement that I had killed my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" exclaimed the native. "Senos knows&mdash;he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>
+see with his own eyes. He see Luis and you
+with snake in a box. Luis could charm snakes by
+music. Senos watch you both that night!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! tell what infernal lies you like," cried Cane
+in angry disgust.</p>
+
+<p>"You, the 'Red' Englishman, are well known in
+Peru, and so is your friend&mdash;the woman there, who
+help you in all your bad schemes," said Senos,
+indicating the inanimate form of Mrs. Petre. "You
+introduced her to my master, but he no like her&mdash;he
+snub her&mdash;so you send her to Lima to wait for
+you&mdash;till you kill him, and get the paper&mdash;eh?
+I saw you steal paper&mdash;big blue paper with
+big seals&mdash;from master's despatch-box after snake
+bite him."</p>
+
+<p>"Paper!" echoed Edwards. "What paper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I can explain something," Fr&eacute;my
+interrupted in French. "I learnt some strange
+facts only three days ago which throw a great deal
+of light on this case."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to listen to all these romances,"
+laughed Cane defiantly. He was an astute and
+polished adventurer, one of the cleverest and most
+elusive in Europe, and he had all the adventurer's
+nonchalance and impudence. At this moment he
+was living in that fine house he had taken furnished
+for the summer and passing as Mr. Charles K.
+Munday, banker, of Chicago. Certainly he had so
+altered his personal appearance that at first I
+scarcely recognised him as the elegant, refined man
+whom I had so foolishly trusted as a friend.</p>
+
+<p>"But now you are under arrest, mon cher ami,
+you will be compelled to listen to a good many
+unpleasant reminders," Fr&eacute;my remarked with a
+broad grin of triumph upon his round, clean-shaven
+face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If you arrest me, then you must arrest that
+woman there, Phrida Shand, for the murder of
+Marie Bracq in my flat in London. She was jealous
+of her&mdash;and killed her with a knife she brought
+with her for the purpose," Cane said with a laugh.
+"If I must suffer&mdash;then so must she! She killed
+the girl. She can't deny it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Phrida!" I gasped, turning to my love, who
+still clung to me convulsively. "You hear what this
+man says&mdash;this vile charge he brings against you&mdash;a
+charge of murder! Say that it is not the truth,"
+I implored. "Tell me that he lies!"</p>
+
+<p>Her big eyes were fixed upon mine, her countenance
+blanched to the lips, and her breath came and went
+in short, quick gasps.</p>
+
+<p>At last her lips moved, as we all gazed at her.
+Her voice was only a hoarse, broken whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I can't!" she replied, and fell back into my
+arms in a swoon.</p>
+
+<p>"You see!" laughed the accused man. "You,
+Royle, are so clever that you only bring grief and
+disaster upon yourself. I prevented Mrs. Petre
+from telling the truth because I thought you had
+decided to drop the affair."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" I cried. "When your accomplice&mdash;that
+woman Petre&mdash;made a dastardly attempt upon
+my life at your instigation, and left me for dead.
+Drop the affair&mdash;never! You are an assassin, and
+you shall suffer the penalty."</p>
+
+<p>"And so will Phrida Shand. She deceived you
+finely&mdash;eh? I admire her cleverness," he laughed
+"She was a thorough Sport, she&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Enough!" commanded Edwards roughly. "I
+give you into the custody of Inspector Fr&eacute;my, of
+the Belgian Suret&eacute;, on a charge of murder committed
+within the Republic of Peru."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And I also arrest the prisoner," added Fr&eacute;my,
+"for offences committed in London and within the
+Grand Duchy of Luxemburg."</p>
+
+<p>The man, pale and haggard-eyed notwithstanding
+his bravado, started visibly at the famous detective's
+words, while at that moment the two men from
+Brussels appeared in the room, having released the
+white-whiskered man-servant, who stood aghast and
+astounded on the threshold. I supported my
+love, now quite unconscious, in my strong arms,
+and was trying to restore her, in which I was
+immediately aided by one of the detectives.</p>
+
+<p>The scene was an intensely dramatic one&mdash;truly
+an unusual scene to take place in the house of the
+sedate old Baron Terwindt, ancient Ministre de la
+Justice of Belgium.</p>
+
+<p>I was bending over my love and dashing water
+into her face when we were all suddenly startled
+by a loud explosion, and then we saw in Cane's
+hand a smoking revolver.</p>
+
+<p>He had fired at me&mdash;and, fortunately, missed
+me.</p>
+
+<p>In a second, however, the officers fell upon him,
+and after a brief but desperate struggle, in which
+a table and chairs were overturned, the weapon was
+wrenched from his grasp.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh! bien," exclaimed Fr&eacute;my, when the
+weapon had been secured from the accused. "As
+you will have some unpleasant things to hear, you
+may as well listen to some of them now. You
+have denied your guilt. Well, I will tell Inspector
+Edwards what I have discovered concerning you
+and your cunning and dastardly treatment of the
+girl known as Marie Bracq."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to hear, I tell you!" he shouted
+in English. "If I'm arrested, take me away, put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>
+me into prison and send me over to England, where
+I shall get a fair trial."</p>
+
+<p>"But you shall hear," replied the big-faced
+official. "There is plenty of time to take you to
+Brussels, you know. Listen. The man Senos has
+alleged that you stole from the man you murdered
+a blue paper&mdash;bearing a number of seals. He is
+perfectly right. You sold that paper on the eighth
+of January last for a quarter of a million francs.
+Ah! my dear friend, you cannot deny that. The
+purchaser will give evidence&mdash;and what then?"</p>
+
+<p>Cane stood silent. His teeth were set, his gaze
+fixed, his grey brows contracted.</p>
+
+<p>The game was up, and he knew it. Yet his
+marvellously active mind was already seeking a way
+out. He was amazingly resourceful, as later on
+was shown, when the details of his astounding
+career came to be revealed.</p>
+
+<p>"Now the true facts are these&mdash;and perhaps
+mademoiselle and the man Senos will be able to
+supplement them&mdash;his Highness the Grand Duke
+of Luxemburg, about two years ago, granted to an
+American named Cassell a valuable concession for
+a strategic railway to run across his country from
+Echternach, on the eastern, or German, frontier of the
+Grand Duchy, to Arlon on the Belgian frontier, the
+Government of the latter State agreeing at the same
+time to continue the line direct to Sedan, and thus
+create a main route from Coblenz, on the Rhine, to
+Paris&mdash;a line which Germany had long wanted for
+military purposes, as it would be of incalculable
+value in the event of further hostilities with France.
+This concession, for which the American paid to the
+Grand Duke a considerable sum, was afterwards purchased
+by Sir Digby Kemsley&mdash;with his Highness's
+full sanction, he knowing him to be a great English<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>
+railroad engineer. Meanwhile, as time went on, the
+Grand Duke was approached by the French Government
+with a view to rescinding the concession, as it
+was realised what superiority such a line would give
+Germany in the event of the massing of her troops
+in Eastern France. At first the Grand Duke refused
+to listen, but both Russia and Austria presented
+their protests, and his Highness found himself in
+a dilemma. All this was known to you, m'sieur
+Cane, through one Ludwig Mayer, a German secret
+agent, who inadvertently spoke about it while you
+were on a brief visit to Paris. You then resolved to
+return at once to Peru, make the acquaintance of
+Sir Digby Kemsley, and obtain the concession.
+You went, you were fortunate, inasmuch as he was
+injured and helpless, and you deliberately killed
+him, and securing the document, sailed for Europe,
+assuming the identity of the actual purchaser of
+the concession. Oh, yes!" he laughed, "you
+were exceedingly cunning and clever, for you did
+not at once deal with it. No, you went to Luxemburg.
+You made certain observations and inquiries.
+You stayed at the Hotel Brasseur for a week, and
+then, you were afraid to approach the Grand Duke
+with an offer to sell back the stolen concession, but&mdash;well,
+by that time you had resolved upon a very
+pretty and romantic plan of action," and he paused
+for a moment and gazed around at us.</p>
+
+<p>"Then robbery was the motive of the crime in
+Peru!" I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," Fr&eacute;my replied. "But I will now
+relate how I came into the inquiry. In the last
+days of January, I was called in secret to Luxemburg
+by the Grand Duke, who, when we sat alone together,
+informed me that his only daughter Stephanie, aged
+twenty-one, who was a rather erratic young lady,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>
+and fond of travelling incognito, had disappeared.
+The last heard of her was three weeks before&mdash;in
+Paris&mdash;where she had, on her return from Egypt, been
+staying a couple of days at the Hotel Maurice with
+her aunt, the Grand Duchess of Baden, but she had
+packed her things and left, and nothing more had
+been heard of her. Search in her room, however,
+had revealed two letters, signed 'Phrida,' and
+addressed to a certain Marie Bracq."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I never wrote to her in my life!" my love
+declared, for she had now regained her senses.</p>
+
+<p>"His Highness further revealed to me the fact
+that his daughter had, while in Egypt, made the
+acquaintance at the Hotel Savoy on the Island of
+Elephantine, of the great English railroad engineer,
+Sir Digby Kemsley, who had purchased a railway
+concession he had given, and which he was exceedingly
+anxious to re-purchase and thus continue on
+friendly terms with France. His daughter, on her
+return to Luxemburg, and before going to Paris,
+had mentioned her acquaintance with Sir Digby,
+and that he held the concession. Therefore, through
+her intermediary, Sir Digby&mdash;who was, of course,
+none other than this assassin, Cane&mdash;went again
+to Luxemburg and parted with the important
+document for a quarter of a million francs. That
+was on the eighth of January."</p>
+
+<p>"After the affair at Harrington Gardens,"
+Edwards remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; after the murder of Marie Bracq, he lost no
+time in disposing of the concession."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a lie!" cried the accused. "That girl
+there killed her. I didn't&mdash;she was jealous of
+her!"</p>
+
+<p>My love shrank at the man's words, yet still
+clinging to me, her beautiful countenance pale as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>
+death, her lips half parted, her eyes staring straight
+in front of her.</p>
+
+<p>"Phrida," I said in a low voice, full of sympathy,
+"you hear what this man has alleged? Now that
+the truth is being told, will you, too, not speak?
+Speak!" I cried in my despair, "speak, dearest, I
+beg of you!"</p>
+
+<p>"No," she sighed. "You&mdash;you would turn from
+me&mdash;you would hate me!"</p>
+
+<p>And at her words Cane burst into a peal of harsh,
+triumphant laughter.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2>
+
+<h3>SHOWS THE TRUTH-TELLER.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2">"<span class="smcap">Speak</span>, laidee," urged the Peruvian. "Speak&mdash;tell
+truth. Senos know&mdash;he know!"</p>
+
+<p>But my love was still obdurate.</p>
+
+<p>"I prefer to face death," she whispered, "than to
+reveal the bitter truth to you, dear."</p>
+
+<p>What could I do? The others heard her words,
+and Cane was full of triumph.</p>
+
+<p>"I think, Miss Shand, that you should now tell
+whatever you know of this complicated affair. The
+truth will certainly have to be threshed out in a
+criminal court."</p>
+
+<p>But she made no answer, standing there,
+swaying slightly, with her white face devoid of
+expression.</p>
+
+<p>"Let Senos tell you some-tings," urged the narrow-eyed
+native. "When that man kill my master he
+fly to Lisbon. There Mrs. Petre meet him and go
+London. There he become Sir Digby Kemsley, and
+I see him often, often, because I crossed as stoker
+on same boat. He go to Luxemburg. I follow.
+One day he see Grand Duke's daughter&mdash;pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>
+young laidee&mdash;and somebody tell him she go to
+Egypt. She go, and he follow. I wait in Marseilles.
+I sell my rugs, wait three, four weeks and meet each
+steamer from Alexandria. At last he come with
+three laidees, and go to the Louvre et Paix, where I
+sell my rugs outside the caf&eacute;. I see he always with
+her&mdash;walking, driving, laughing. I want to tell her
+the truth&mdash;that the man is not my master, but his
+assassin. Ah! but no opportunity. They go to
+Paris. Then she and the laidees go to Luxemburg,
+and he to London. I follow her, and stay in Luxemburg
+to sell my shawls, and to see her. She drive
+out of the palace every day. Once I try and speak
+to her, but police arrest me and keep me prison two
+days&mdash;ugh! After a week she with another laidee
+go to Paris; then she alone go to Carlton Hotel in
+London. I watch there and see Cane call on her.
+He no see me&mdash;ah, no! I often watch him to his
+home in Harrington Gardens; often see him with
+that woman Petre, and once I saw Luis with them.
+I have much patience till one day the young lady
+leave the hotel herself and walk along Pall Mall. I
+follow and stop her. She very afraid of dark man,
+but I tell her no be afraid of Senos. Quick, in few
+words, I tell her that her friend not my master, Sir
+Digby&mdash;only the man who killed him. She dumbstruck.
+Tells me I am a liar, she will not believe.
+I repeat what I said, and she declares I will have to
+prove what I say. I tell her I am ready, and she
+askes me to meet her at same place and same time
+to-morrow. She greatly excited, and we part.
+Senos laughs, for he has saved young laidee&mdash;daughter
+of a king&mdash;from that man."</p>
+
+<p>"What? You actually told her Highness!"
+cried Fr&eacute;my in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"I told her how my master had been killed by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>
+that man&mdash;with the snake&mdash;and I warned her to
+avoid him. But she hesitated to believe Senos,"
+was the native's reply. "Of course, she not know
+me. That was date six January. I remember it,
+for that night, poor young laidee&mdash;she die. She
+killed!"</p>
+
+<p>"What?" Edwards cried, staring at the speaker.
+"She was killed, you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Fr&eacute;my interrupted, "Marie Bracq was
+the name assumed by her Highness, the daughter of
+the Grand Duke. She loved freedom from all the
+trammels of court life, and as I have told you, went
+about Europe with her maid as her companion,
+travelling in different names. Mademoiselle Marie
+Bracq was one that it seems she used, only we did
+not discover this until after her death, and after
+his Highness had paid the quarter of a million
+francs to regain the concession he had granted&mdash;money
+which, I believe, the French Government
+really supplied from their secret service
+fund."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it was the daughter of the Grand Duke
+who fell a victim in Cane's flat?" I gasped in utter
+surprise at this latest revelation.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, m'sieur," replied Fr&eacute;my. "You will
+recollect, when you told us at the Pr&eacute;fecture
+of the name of the victim, how dumbfounded
+we were."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, I recollect!" I said. "I remember
+how your chief point-blank refused to betray the
+confidence reposed in him."</p>
+
+<p>And to all this the assassin of Sir Digby Kemsley
+listened without a word, save to point to my love,
+and declare:</p>
+
+<p>"There stands the woman who killed Marie
+Bracq. Arrest her!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Phrida stood rigid, motionless as a statue.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she exclaimed at last, with all her courage,
+"I&mdash;I will speak. I&mdash;I'll tell you everything. I
+will confess, for I cannot bear this longer. And yet,
+dearest," she cried, turning her face to me and looking
+straight into my eyes, "I love you, though I
+now know that after I have spoken&mdash;after I have
+told the truth&mdash;you will despise and hate me! Ah,
+God alone knows how I have suffered! how I have
+prayed for deliverance from this. But it cannot be.
+I have sinned, I suppose, and I must bear just
+punishment."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence.</p>
+
+<p>We all looked at her, though the woman
+Petre was still lying in her chair unconscious,
+and upon the assassin's lips was a grim
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>"You recollect," Phrida said, turning to me,
+"you remember the day when you introduced that
+man to me. Well, from that hour I knew no peace.
+He wrote to me, asking me to meet him, as he had
+something to tell me concerning my future. Well, I
+foolishly met him one afternoon in Rumpelmeyer's,
+in St. James's Street, when he told me that he had
+purchased a very important German patent for the
+manufacture of certain chemicals which would
+revolutionise prices, and would bring upon your firm
+inevitable ruin, as you pursued the old-fashioned
+methods. But, being your friend, and respecting us
+both, he had decided not to go further with the new
+process, and though he had given a large sum of
+money for it, he would, in our mutual interests, not
+allow it to be developed. Naturally, in my innocence
+I thanked him, and from that moment, professing
+great friendliness towards you, we became friends.
+Sometimes I met him at the houses of friends, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>
+he always impressed upon me the necessity of keeping
+our acquaintance a secret."</p>
+
+<p>And she paused, placing her hand upon her
+heart as though to stay its throbbing.</p>
+
+<p>"One afternoon," she resumed, "the day of the
+tragedy, I received a telegram urging me to meet
+him without fail at five o'clock at Rumpelmeyer's.
+This I did, when he imparted to me a secret&mdash;that
+you, dear, were in the habit of meeting, at his flat,
+a foreign woman named Marie Bracq, daughter of
+a hair-dresser in the Edgware Road; that you,
+whom I loved, were infatuated with her, and&mdash;and
+that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The liar!" I cried.</p>
+
+<p>"He told me many things which naturally
+excited me, and which, loving you as I did, drove
+me to madness. I refused at first to heed his
+words, for somehow I mistrusted him&mdash;I know not
+why! But he offered to give me proof. If I went
+that night, or early in the morning, to Harrington
+Gardens, I would find her there, and I might
+question her. Imagine my state of mind after
+what he had revealed to me. I promised I
+would come there in secret, and I went home,
+my mind full of the lies and suspicion which
+he had, I now see, so cleverly suggested. I
+didn't then know him to be an assassin, but, mistrusting
+him as I did, I took for my own protection
+the old knife from the table in the drawing-room,
+and concealed it inside my blouse. At one
+o'clock next morning I crept out of the house
+noiselessly, and walked to Harrington Gardens,
+where I opened the outer door with the latch-key
+he had given me. On ascending to his flat I heard
+voices&mdash;I heard your voice, dear&mdash;therefore I
+descended into the dark and waited&mdash;waited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>
+until you came down the stairs and left. I
+saw you, and I was mad&mdash;mad! Then I went
+up, and he admitted me. The trap was
+already laid for me. I crossed that threshold
+to my doom!"</p>
+
+<p>"How?" I asked in my despair. "Tell me all,
+Phrida,&mdash;everything!"</p>
+
+<p>But at this point the Peruvian, Senos, interrupted,
+saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Let me speak, sare. I tell you," he cried
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"When I speak to the lady in Pall Mall I follow her.
+She go that afternoon to Harrington Gardens, but
+there see Mrs. Petre, whom she already know. Mrs.
+Petre find her excited, and after questioning her,
+induce her to tell her what I say&mdash;that Cane he kill
+my master. Then Mrs. Petre say, Sir Digby away in
+the country&mdash;not return to London&mdash;at Paddington&mdash;till
+one o'clock in the morning. I listen to it all,
+for Senos friend of the hall-porter&mdash;eh? So young
+laidee she says she come late in the night&mdash;half-past
+one or two o'clock&mdash;and ask himself the truth. But
+Cane in his room all the time, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Phrida?" I asked quickly. "Tell
+us what happened on that night when you
+entered."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," cried Cane sarcastically, "Lie to them&mdash;they'll
+believe you, of course!"</p>
+
+<p>"When I entered that man took me into the
+sitting-room, and I sat down. Naturally I was
+very upset. Mrs. Petre, whom I had met before,
+was there, and after he had told me many things
+about your relations with the daughter of a hair-dresser&mdash;things
+which maddened me&mdash;Mrs. Petre
+admitted her from the adjoining room. I was mad
+with jealousy, loving you as I did. What happened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>
+between us I do not know. I&mdash;I only fear that&mdash;that
+I took the knife from my breast and, in a
+frenzy of madness&mdash;killed her!" And she covered
+her face with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly!" cried Cane. "I'm glad you have
+the moral courage to admit it."</p>
+
+<p>"But describe exactly what occurred&mdash;as far as
+you know," Edwards said, pressing her.</p>
+
+<p>"I know that I was in a frenzy of passion, and
+hysterical, perhaps," she said at last. "I recollect
+Mrs. Petre saying that I looked very unwell, and
+fetching me some smelling-salts from the next room.
+I smelt them, but the odour was faint and
+strange, and a few moments later I&mdash;well, I knew
+no more."</p>
+
+<p>"And then&mdash;afterwards?" I asked very
+gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"When, later on I came to my senses," she said
+in slow, hard tones, as though reflecting, "I found
+the girl whom I believed to be my rival in your
+affections lying on the ground. In her breast was
+the knife. Ah, shall I ever forget that moment when
+I realised what I had done! Cane was bending
+over me, urging me to remain calm. He told me
+that my rival was dead&mdash;that I had killed her and
+that she would not further interfere with my future.
+I&mdash;I saw him bend over the body, withdraw the
+knife, and wipe it upon his handkerchief, while that
+woman, his accomplice, looked on. Then he gave
+me back the knife, which instinctively I concealed,
+and bade me go quickly and noiselessly back home,
+promising secrecy, and declaring that both he and
+Mrs. Petre would say nothing&mdash;that my terrible
+secret was safe in their hands. I believed them,
+and I crept down the stairs out into the road, and
+walked home to Cromwell Road. I replaced the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>
+knife in the drawing-room, and I believed them
+until&mdash;until I knew that you guessed my secret!
+Then came that woman's betrayal, and I knew that
+my doom was sealed," she added, her chin sinking
+upon her breast.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," laughed Cane defiantly, "that the
+girl admits her guilt. She was jealous of Marie
+Bracq, and in a frenzy of passion struck her down.
+Mrs. Petre was there and witnessed it. She will
+describe it all to you, no doubt, when she
+recovers."</p>
+
+<p>"And what she will say is one big lie," declared
+Senos, coming forward again. "We all know
+Mrs. Petre," he laughed in his high-pitched voice;
+"she is your tool&mdash;she and Luis. But he become
+a snake-charmer and give exhibitions at music-halls.
+He bit by one snake at Darlington, a month ago,
+and die quick. Ah, yes! Senos know! Snake
+bite him, because he brought snake and give him to
+that man to bite my poor master."</p>
+
+<p>"Why will Mrs. Petre tell lies, Senos?" demanded
+Edwards who, with Fr&eacute;my, was listening with
+the greatest interest and putting the threads
+of the tangled skein together in their proper
+sequence.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I, Senos, was at Harrington Gardens
+that night. I knew that the laidee I had spoken
+to was going there, and I feared that some-ting might
+happen, for Cane a desperate man when charged
+with the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"You were there!" I gasped. "What do you
+know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, this," said the narrow-eyed man who had
+hunted down the assassin of his master. "I waited
+outside the house&mdash;waited some hours&mdash;when about
+eleven Cane he came down and unfastened the door<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>
+and leave it a little open. I creep in, and soon
+after you, Mr. Royle, you come in. I wait and see
+you go upstairs. Then I creep up and get out of
+the window on the landing and on to the roof,
+where I see inside Cane's room&mdash;see all that goes on.
+My friend, the hall-porter, he tell me this sometime
+before, and I find the spot where, kneeling down, I
+see between the blinds. I see you talk with him
+and I see you go. Then I see Miss Shand&mdash;she come
+in and Mrs. Petre, and Cane talk to her. She very
+excited when she meet young laidee, and Mrs. Petre
+she give her bottle to smell. Then she faint off. The
+laidee, daughter of great Duke, she say something
+to Cane. He furious. She repeat what I say to her.
+Then Mrs. Petre, who had given Miss Shand the
+smelling-salts, find knife in her breast and secretly
+puts it into Cane's hand. In a moment Cane
+strikes the young lady with it&mdash;ah! full in the chest&mdash;and
+she sinks on the floor&mdash;dead! It went into
+her heart. Cane and the woman Petre talk
+in low whispers for few minutes, both very
+afraid. Then Miss Shand she wakes, opens her
+eyes, and sees the young laidee dead on the
+floor. She scream, but Mrs. Petre puts her
+hand over her mouth. Cane take out the knife,
+wipe it, and after telling her something, Miss
+Shand creep away. Oh, yes, Senos he see it all!
+Miss Shand quite innocent&mdash;she do nothing. Cane
+kill daughter of the great Duke&mdash;he with his own
+hand&mdash;he kill her. Senos saw him&mdash;with his
+own eyes!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" I cried, rushing towards the native, and
+gripping both his brown hands. "Thank you, Senos,
+for those words. You have saved the woman I love,
+for you are an eye-witness to that man's crime which
+with such subtle ingenuity he has endeavoured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>
+to fasten upon her, and would have succeeded
+had it not been for your dogged perseverance and
+astuteness."</p>
+
+<p>"He kill my master," replied the Peruvian
+simply. "I watch him and convict him. He bad
+assassin, gentlemens&mdash;very bad man!"</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2 class="gap3"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2>
+
+<h3>IS THE CONCLUSION.</h3>
+
+
+<p class="gap2">"<span class="smcap">Do</span> you really believe that man?" asked Cane,
+turning to us quite coolly, a sarcastic smile upon
+his lips.</p>
+
+<p>He was a marvellous actor, for he now betrayed
+not the slightest confusion. He even laughed at the
+allegations made against him. His bold defiance
+utterly amazed us. Yet we knew now how resourceful
+and how utterly unscrupulous he was.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do!" was the officer's reply. "You
+murdered her Highness, fearing that she should go
+to her father and expose you before you could have
+time to dispose of your stolen concession to him.
+Had she gone to him, the police would hunt you
+down as Sir Digby's assassin. But by closing her
+lips you hoped to be able to sell back the concession
+and still preserve your guilty secret."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," remarked Fr&eacute;my, "the whole affair
+is now quite plain. Poor Miss Shand was drawn
+into the net in order to become this scoundrel's
+victim. He intended from the first to make use of
+her in some way, and did so at last by making her
+believe she had killed her alleged rival in Mr. Royle's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>
+affection. Truly this man is a clever and unscrupulous
+scoundrel, for he succeeded in obtaining a
+quarter of a million francs from a reigning sovereign
+for a document, to obtain which he had committed
+a foul and dastardly crime!"</p>
+
+<p>"A lie&mdash;lies, all of it!" shouted the accused
+angrily, his face as white as paper.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do not trouble," laughed Fr&eacute;my, speaking
+in French. "You will have an opportunity to make
+your defence before the judge&mdash;you and your
+ingenious accomplice, Mrs. Petre."</p>
+
+<p>"We want her in England for the attempted
+murder of Mr. Royle," Edwards remarked. "I'll
+apply for her extradition to-morrow. Your
+chief will, no doubt, decide to keep Cane here&mdash;at
+least, for the present. We shall want him
+for the murder of the Englishman, Sir Digby
+Kemsley."</p>
+
+<p>"You may want me," laughed the culprit with
+an air of supreme defiance, "but you'll never have
+me! Oh, no, no! I'll remain over here, and leave
+you wanting me."</p>
+
+<p>"Prisoner, what is the use of these denials and
+this defiance?" asked Fr&eacute;my severely in French,
+advancing towards him. "You are in my custody&mdash;and
+under the law of the Kingdom of Belgium I
+arrest you for the murder of Sir Digby Kemsley,
+in Peru, and for the murder of Stephanie, daughter
+of his Highness the Grand Duke of Luxemburg."
+Then, turning to his two subordinates, he added
+briefly: "Put the handcuffs on him! He may give
+trouble!"</p>
+
+<p>"Handcuffs! Ha, ha!" cried Senos the Peruvian,
+laughing and snapping his brown fingers in the
+prisoner's face. "It is my triumph now. Senos
+has avenged the death of his poor, good master!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A moment," exclaimed the prisoner. "I may
+at least be permitted to secure my papers before I
+leave here, and hand them over to you? They will,
+perhaps, interest you," he said quite coolly. Then
+he took from his watch-chain a small key, and
+with it opened a little cupboard in the wall, from
+whence he took a small, square deed-box of
+japanned tin, which he placed upon the table
+before us.</p>
+
+<p>With another and smaller key, and with a slight
+grin upon his face, he opened the lid, but a cry of
+dismay escaped us, for next second we saw that he
+held in his hand a small, black object, sinuous and
+writhing&mdash;a small, thin, but highly venomous black
+snake!</p>
+
+<p>It was over in an instant, ere we could realise
+the truth. Upon his white wrist I saw a tiny bead
+of blood, where the reptile had struck and bitten
+him, and as he flung it back into the box and
+banged down the lid he turned upon us in defiance,
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Now take me! I am ready," he cried, uttering
+a peal of fiendish laughter. "Carry me where
+you will, for in a few moments I shall be dead.
+Ah! yes, my good friends! I have played the
+great game&mdash;and lost. Yet I've cheated you all,
+as I always declared that I would."</p>
+
+<p>The two men sprang forward to slip the metal
+gyves upon his wrists, but Fr&eacute;my, noticing the instant
+change in the assassin's countenance, motioned
+them off.</p>
+
+<p>The culprit's face grew ashen grey, his thin
+jaws were fixed. He tried to utter some further
+words, but no sound came from him, only a low
+gurgle.</p>
+
+<p>We stood by and watched. He placed both<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>
+his palms to his brow and stood for a few seconds
+in the centre of the room. Then a paroxysm of pain
+seemed to double him completely up, and he fell
+to the carpet writhing in most fearful agony. It
+was horrible to witness, and Phrida, with a cry,
+turned away.</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly he lay stiff, and stretched his
+limbs to such an extent that we could hear the bones
+crack. His back became arched, and then he
+expired with horrible convulsions, which held his
+limbs stiffened and extended to their utmost limits&mdash;truly,
+the most awful and agonising of deaths,
+and a torture in the last moments that must have
+been excruciating&mdash;a punishment worse, indeed,
+than any that man-made law might allow.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>As Herbert Cane paid the penalty of his
+crimes the woman Petre at last recovered consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>I saw the look of abject terror upon her face
+as her eyes fell upon the man lying dead upon the
+carpet before us.</p>
+
+<p>She realised the terrible truth at once, and giving
+vent to a loud, hysterical scream, rose and threw
+herself on her knees beside the man whose wide-open
+eyes, staring into space, were fast glazing
+in death.</p>
+
+<p>Edwards bent, and asked in a low voice whether
+I wished to give her into custody for the attempt
+upon me.</p>
+
+<p>But I replied in the negative.</p>
+
+<p>"The assassin has received his just punishment
+and must answer to his Maker," I replied. "That
+is enough. This scene will assuredly be a lesson
+to her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"She falsely accused Miss Shand, remember,"
+he said. "She knew all the time that Cane struck
+the poor girl down."</p>
+
+<p>"No," I replied. "Now that the stigma has been
+removed from the one I love, I will be generous.
+I will prefer no charge against her."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! dearest," cried Phrida, "I am glad of that.
+Let us forgive, and endeavour, if possible, to forget
+these dark, black days and weeks when both our
+lives were blighted, and the future seemed so hopeless
+and full of tragedy."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," I said, "let us go forth and forget."</p>
+
+<p>And with a last glance at the dead man, with
+the woman with dishevelled hair kneeling in despair
+at his side, I took the arm of my beloved,
+and kissing her before them all, led her out, away
+from the scene so full of bitterness and horror.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>To further prolong the relation of this tragic
+chapter of my life's history would serve no
+purpose.</p>
+
+<p>What more need I tell you than to say Mrs.
+Petre disappeared entirely, apparently thankful
+to escape, and that at St. Mary Abbots, in Kensington,
+a month ago, Phrida and I became
+man and wife, both Edwards and Fr&eacute;my being
+present.</p>
+
+<p>As I pen these final lines I am sitting upon the
+balcony of the great Winter Palace Hotel, in Luxor,
+within sight of the colossal ruins of Karnak, for
+we are spending a delightful honeymoon in Upper
+Egypt, that region where the sun always shines
+and rain never falls. Phrida, in her thin white
+cotton gown and white sun helmet, though it is
+January, is seated beside me, her little hand in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>
+mine. Below us, in the great garden, rise the high,
+feathery palms, above a riot of roses and poinsettias,
+magnolias, and other sweet-smelling flowers.</p>
+
+<p>It is the silent, breathless hour of the desert sunset.
+Before us, away beyond the little strip of
+vegetation watered by the broad, ever-flowing Nile,
+the clear, pale green sky is aflame with crimson,
+a sunset mystic and wonderful, such as one only
+sees in Egypt, that golden land of the long-forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>From somewhere behind comes up the long-drawn
+nasal song of an Arab boatman&mdash;that quaint,
+plaintive, sing-song rhythm accompanied by a
+tom-tom, which encourages the rowers to bend
+at their oars, while away still further behind across
+the river, lays the desolate ruins of the once-powerful
+Thebes, and that weird, arid wilderness which is so
+impressive&mdash;the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings.</p>
+
+<p>Phrida has been reading what I have here written,
+and as I kiss her sweet lips, she looks lovingly into
+my eyes and says:</p>
+
+<p>"It is enough, dearest. Say that you and I
+are happy&mdash;ah! so supremely happy at last, in
+each other's love. No pair in the whole world
+could trust each other as we have done. I know
+that I was guilty of a very grave fault&mdash;the fault
+of concealing my friendship with that man from
+you. But I foolishly thought I was acting in your
+interests&mdash;that being your friend, he was mine also.
+I never dreamed that such a refined face could hide
+so black and vile a heart."</p>
+
+<p>"But I have forgiven all, darling," I hasten to
+reassure her! "I know now what a clever and
+ingenious scoundrel that man was, and how full
+of resource and amazing cunning. You were his
+victim, just as I was myself&mdash;just as were the others.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>
+"No," I add, "life, love, and happiness are before us.
+So let us learn to forget."</p>
+
+<p>And as our lips meet once again in a long, fond,
+passionate caress, I lay down my pen in order to
+press her more closely to my breast.</p>
+
+<p>She is mine&mdash;my own beloved&mdash;mine for now and
+evermore.</p>
+
+<p class="center gap3">THE END.</p>
+
+<p class="center gap3 small">Butler &amp; Tanner Frome and London</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1a" id="Page_1a">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h3 class="gap3">WARD, LOCK &amp; CO.'S</h3>
+
+<h2>New and Recent Fiction.</h2>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap2">Finished</h3>
+
+<h4>H. RIDER HAGGARD.</h4>
+
+<p>Here we have Mr. Rider Haggard at his best. The book is
+alive with adventure, and characters black and white.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Haggard makes all his characters interesting; they live
+for us, no matter how extraordinary the circumstances, and these
+circumstances are described in such a way, so vividly and yet
+so quietly, that we accept them without question. "Finished"
+is indeed as full of good points as it is of adventures.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap2">Thorgils of Treadholt</h3>
+
+<h4>MAURICE HEWLETT.</h4>
+
+<p>This new work by the author of "The Forest Lovers" is told
+with the wealth of detail and vivid actuality which have made
+the author's excursions into primitive Scandinavian history and
+legend as fascinating and as strongly human in their appeal as
+the medi&aelig;val romances which first made him famous.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap2">Carmen's Messenger</h3>
+
+<h4>HAROLD BINDLOSS.</h4>
+
+<p>Mr. Bindloss is an author who can deftly use sensationalism
+to his purpose without forcing it for mere effect, and who can
+also depict the character of a strong man as honest as determined
+in love with a sweet woman. He tells a story with rare skill.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap2">Lonesome Heights</h3>
+
+<h4>HALLIWELL SUTCLIFFE.</h4>
+
+<p>A thoroughly enjoyable story, without a dull page, and in the
+front rank of the author's work. Plot and characterisation are
+equally good.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2a" id="Page_2a">[Pg 2]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap2">The Just Men of Cordova</h3>
+
+<h4>EDGAR WALLACE.</h4>
+
+<p>An adventure story dealing with another episode in the career
+of the "Four Just Men" who have appeared in several of Mr
+Wallace's most popular novels.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap2">The Rattlesnake</h3>
+
+<h4>KATHARINE TYNAN.</h4>
+
+<p>A strong knowledge of human nature, for which Katharine
+Tynan is famous, is well portrayed in the pages of this novel, and
+this, in conjunction with the interesting nature of the plot,
+renders it particularly successful. The book will be appreciated
+by novel readers.</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap2">Adam</h3>
+
+<h4>PAUL TRENT.</h4>
+
+<p>A strikingly original novel. It tells of a young man who is
+kept in seclusion and entirely without knowledge of the world
+until the age of twenty-one. His development, especially from
+the religious standpoint, is strikingly realistic and enthralling.
+A novel likely to be talked about.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Morning Post.</span>&mdash;"Mr. Paul Trent tells a tale well. He has
+a narrative style that grips and interests, and we are grateful
+to him for a real and enjoyable story."</p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap2">No Greater Love</h3>
+
+<h4>WILLIAM LE QUEUX.</h4>
+
+<p>A remarkable story, crowded with the most exciting situations,
+and bristling with crimes which only the brain of a most versatile
+author could conceive.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>&mdash;"Few novelists, if any, surpass Mr. Wm. Le
+Queux in the art of making a frankly and formidably melodramatic
+story go with alluring lightness in its intensity."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3a" id="Page_3a">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap3">WARD, LOCK &amp; CO.'S</h3>
+
+<h2>TWO-SHILLING
+FICTION</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt. With Illustrations. 2/- net.</i></p>
+
+<table summary="2s fiction">
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">1</td>
+<td><b>Lawrence Clavering</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. E. W. Mason</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">3</td>
+<td><b>Limitations</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. F. Benson</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">7</td>
+<td><b>Roger Trewinion</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">8</td>
+<td><b>Half a Hero</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Anthony Hope</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">9</td>
+<td><b>Ayesha</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">H. Rider Haggard</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">10</td>
+<td><b>A Study in Scarlet</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. Conan Doyle</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">12</td>
+<td><b>To Leeward</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">F. Marion Crawford</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">13</td>
+<td><b>Comedies of Courtship</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. Hope</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">16</td>
+<td><b>Lady Barbarity</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">J. C. Snaith</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">17</td>
+<td><b>As We Forgive Them</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">18</td>
+<td><b>Hawtrey's Deputy</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">19</td>
+<td><b>The Peer and the Woman</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">20</td>
+<td><b>Sylvia's Chauffeur</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">21</td>
+<td><b>Mr. Witt's Widow</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Anthony Hope</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">22</td>
+<td><b>The Unknown Lady</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">24</td>
+<td><b>Lord Stranleigh, Philanthropist</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Robert Barr</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">25</td>
+<td><b>The Master Mummer</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">27</td>
+<td><b>The Protector</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4a" id="Page_4a">[Pg 4]</a></span>28</td>
+<td><b>The Postmaster of Market Deignton</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">29</td>
+<td><b>The Sign of the Stranger</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">31</td>
+<td><b>The Pioneer</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">32</td>
+<td><b>False Evidence</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">33</td>
+<td><b>The Tickencote Treasure</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">34</td>
+<td><b>Mirabel's Island</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">35</td>
+<td><b>White Walls</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Max Pemberton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">36</td>
+<td><b>The Lovers</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Eden Phillpotts</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">38</td>
+<td><b>The Vow</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">39</td>
+<td><b>The Purple Robe</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">40</td>
+<td><b>The Trustee</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">41</td>
+<td><b>Expiation</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">42</td>
+<td><b>Mysteries</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">43</td>
+<td><b>The Foundling</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">44</td>
+<td><b>The Betrayal</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">45</td>
+<td><b>The Wastrel</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">46</td>
+<td><b>The Room of Secrets</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">47</td>
+<td><b>The Opening Door</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">48</td>
+<td><b>Lest We Forget</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">49</td>
+<td><b>The Long Arm</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">50</td>
+<td><b>The Second Chance</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">51</td>
+<td><b>The Yellow Crayon</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">52</td>
+<td><b>The Allinson Honour</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">53</td>
+<td><b>The Open Road</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Halliwell Sutcliffe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">54</td>
+<td><b>The Master of Merripit</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Eden Phillpotts</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">55</td>
+<td><b>Max Logan</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">56</td>
+<td><b>An Enemy Hath Done This</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">57</td>
+<td><b>Mysterious Mr. Sabin</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">59</td>
+<td><b>The Heir to the Throne</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. W. Marchmont</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">60</td>
+<td><b>Blake's Burden</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">61</td>
+<td><b>A Daughter of the Marionis</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">62</td>
+<td><b>The House 'Round the Corner</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5a" id="Page_5a">[Pg 5]</a></span>63</td>
+<td><b>The White Lie</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">64</td>
+<td><b>Uncle Peter's Will</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Silas K. Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">65</td>
+<td><b>Lord Stranleigh Abroad</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Robert Barr</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">66</td>
+<td><b>The Six Rubies</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">67</td>
+<td><b>Leila and Her Lover</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Max Pemberton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">68</td>
+<td><b>The Secret of the Reef</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">69</td>
+<td><b>The Blind Spot</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">70</td>
+<td><b>Nesbit's Compact</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">73</td>
+<td><b>The White Horses</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Halliwell Sutcliffe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">74</td>
+<td><b>A Lovers' Tale</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Maurice Hewlett</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">75</td>
+<td><b>Delia Blanchflower</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Mrs. Humphry Ward</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">76</td>
+<td><b>The Coming of the King</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">77</td>
+<td><b>The Admirable Carfew</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Edgar Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">78</td>
+<td><b>Prince of Sinners</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">79</td>
+<td><b>A Risky Game</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">80</td>
+<td><b>The Sign of Silence</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">81</td>
+<td><b>The Angel of the Desert</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Silas K. Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">82</td>
+<td><b>A Chateau in Picardy</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Halliwell Sutcliffe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">83</td>
+<td><b>The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">84</td>
+<td><b>In Self Defence</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Silas K. Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">85</td>
+<td><b>Bentley's Conscience</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">86</td>
+<td><b>The Borderer</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">87</td>
+<td><b>A Monk of Cruta</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">88</td>
+<td><b>Frey and His Wife</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Maurice Hewlett</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">89</td>
+<td><b>The Birthright</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">90</td>
+<td><b>The Crimson Field</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Halliwell Sutcliffe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">91</td>
+<td><b>The Flying Girl</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Richard Marsh</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">92</td>
+<td><b>When He Came to Himself</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Silas K. Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">93</td>
+<td><b>God and Mammon</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">94</td>
+<td><b>The Annexation Society</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">J. S. Fletcher</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">95</td>
+<td><b>Greater Love</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">96</td>
+<td><b>The Secret</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">97</td>
+<td><b>A Prince of this World</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6a" id="Page_6a">[Pg 6]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap3">WARD, LOCK &amp; CO.'S</h3>
+
+<h2>SHILLING FICTION</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Foolscap 8vo. Cloth Gilt. 1/- net.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center large">LATEST LIST</p>
+
+<table summary="1s fiction">
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">78</td>
+<td><b>Ayesha</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">H. Rider Haggard</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">80</td>
+<td><b>The Open Road</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Halliwell Sutcliffe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">82</td>
+<td><b>An Enemy Hath Done This</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">88</td>
+<td><b>The Scarlet Woman</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">93</td>
+<td><b>The Holy Flower</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">H. Rider Haggard</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">94</td>
+<td><b>The Traitors</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. Phillips Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">95</td>
+<td><b>The Strength of the Hills</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Halliwell Sutcliffe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">96</td>
+<td><b>The Pathway</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Gertrude Page</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">97</td>
+<td><b>The Blind Spot</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">98</td>
+<td><b>The Broken Thread</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">99</td>
+<td><b>The Intruder</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">100</td>
+<td><b>Faith Tresilian</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Eden Phillpotts</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">101</td>
+<td><b>Leila and Her Lover</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Max Pemberton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">102</td>
+<td><b>Nesbit's Compact</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">103</td>
+<td><b>A Man and His Kingdom</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">104</td>
+<td><b>The White Horses</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Halliwell Sutcliffe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">105</td>
+<td><b>Delia Blanchflower</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Mrs. Humphry Ward</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">106</td>
+<td><b>The Secret of the Reef</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">107</td>
+<td><b>The Mysterious Three</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">108</td>
+<td><b>A Lovers' Tale</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Maurice Hewlett</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">109</td>
+<td><b>A Prince of Sinners</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">110</td>
+<td><b>Rainbow Island</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">111</td>
+<td><b>The Place of Dragons</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">112</td>
+<td><b>The Purple Robe</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">113</td>
+<td><b>When Greek meets Greek</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">114</td>
+<td><b>A Risky Game</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7a" id="Page_7a">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap3">WARD, LOCK &amp; CO.'S</h3>
+
+<h2>NINEPENNY NOVELS</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Cloth Gilt, with Frontispiece and Attractive Wrapper
+in colours. 9d. net.</i></p>
+
+<table summary="9d fiction">
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">1</td>
+<td><b>The Garden of Lies</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">2</td>
+<td><b>Anna, The Adventuress</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">4</td>
+<td><b>The Beautiful White Devil</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">5</td>
+<td><b>The Impostor</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">7</td>
+<td><b>A Study In Scarlet</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. Conan Doyle</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">9</td>
+<td><b>The Mother</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Eden Phillpotts</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">10</td>
+<td><b>The Crimson Blind</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">14</td>
+<td><b>A Maker of History</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">16</td>
+<td><b>The Pillar of Light</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">17</td>
+<td><b>A Bid for Fortune</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">21</td>
+<td><b>Mr. Wingrave, Millionaire</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">31</td>
+<td><b>The Secret</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">34</td>
+<td><b>Darby and Joan</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">"Rita"</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">36</td>
+<td><b>The Temptress</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">43</td>
+<td><b>The Missioner</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">47</td>
+<td><b>Dr. Nikola</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">53</td>
+<td><b>His Lady's Pleasure</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">H. Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">54</td>
+<td><b>A Courier of Fortune</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. W. Marchmont</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">58</td>
+<td><b>Heart of Gold</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">65</td>
+<td><b>Hawtrey's Deputy</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">67</td>
+<td><b>A Maker of Nations</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8a" id="Page_8a">[Pg 8]</a></span>69</td>
+<td><b>A Millionaire of Yesterday</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">72</td>
+<td><b>Long Live the King</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">75</td>
+<td><b>The World's Great Snare</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">76</td>
+<td><b>Helen of the Moor</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">77</td>
+<td><b>League of the Leopard</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">78</td>
+<td><b>Her Splendid Sin</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Headon Hill</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">79</td>
+<td><b>Dr. Nikola's Experiment</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">80</td>
+<td><b>Whoso Findeth a Wife</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">81</td>
+<td><b>The Stowaway</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">82</td>
+<td><b>The Law of the Land</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred. M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">83</td>
+<td><b>Mr. Marx's Secret</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">84</td>
+<td><b>Sanders of the River</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Edgar Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">85</td>
+<td><b>Under the Black Eagle</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. W. Marchmont</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">86</td>
+<td><b>Joy: a Happy Soul</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">87</td>
+<td><b>The Red Rat's Daughter</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">88</td>
+<td><b>The Dream Daughter</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">89</td>
+<td><b>The Liberationist</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">90</td>
+<td><b>Lord Stranleigh Abroad</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">R. Barr</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">91</td>
+<td><b>Jeanne of the Marshes</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">92</td>
+<td><b>A Race with Ruin</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Headon Hill</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">93</td>
+<td><b>A Fatal Legacy</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">95</td>
+<td><b>A Fatal Dose</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">96</td>
+<td><b>The Kidnapped President</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">97</td>
+<td><b>The People of the River</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Edgar Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">98</td>
+<td><b>Christina</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">99</td>
+<td><b>The Master Mummer</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">100</td>
+<td><b>The Golden Girl</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">101</td>
+<td><b>The Silent Barrier</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">102</td>
+<td><b>The Cottage in the Chine</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Headon Hill</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">103</td>
+<td><b>My Indian Queen</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">104</td>
+<td><b>The Idol of the Town</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9a" id="Page_9a">[Pg 9]</a></span>105</td>
+<td><b>False Evidence</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">106</td>
+<td><b>The Cardinal Moth</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">107</td>
+<td><b>The Protector</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">108</td>
+<td><b>His Little Girl</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">109</td>
+<td><b>White Walls</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Max Pemberton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">110</td>
+<td><b>Money or Wife</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Effie A. Rowlands</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">111</td>
+<td><b>Farewell, Nikola</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">112</td>
+<td><b>The Council of Justice</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">113</td>
+<td><b>The House Next Door</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">114</td>
+<td><b>Conspirators</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">115</td>
+<td><b>The Master Spirit</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Sir Wm. Magnay</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">116</td>
+<td><b>A Traitor's Wooing</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Headon Hill</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">117</td>
+<td><b>Sheilah McLeod</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">118</td>
+<td><b>The Sign of the Stranger</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">119</td>
+<td><b>The Pioneer</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">120</td>
+<td><b>The Open Door</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">121</td>
+<td><b>The Betrayal</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">122</td>
+<td><b>Diana</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">123</td>
+<td><b>The Vow</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">124</td>
+<td><b>Fennell's Tower</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">125</td>
+<td><b>The Admirable Carfew</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">126</td>
+<td><b>Through Folly's Mill</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">127</td>
+<td><b>Love Made Manifest</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">128</td>
+<td><b>The Tickencote Treasure</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">129</td>
+<td><b>Craven Fortune</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">130</td>
+<td><b>The Yellow Crayon</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">131</td>
+<td><b>Cleansing Fires</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">132</td>
+<td><b>The Lovers</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Eden Phillpotts</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">133</td>
+<td><b>Sunset and Dawn</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Effie A. Rowlands</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">134</td>
+<td><b>The Trustee</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">135</td>
+<td><b>The Foundling</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">136</td>
+<td><b>The Heir to the Throne</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. W. Marchmont</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10a" id="Page_10a">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap3">WARD, LOCK &amp; CO.'S</h3>
+
+<h2>Sixpenny Copyright</h2>
+
+<h2>NOVELS</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Large Demy 8vo. Coloured Covers. Price 6d.</i></p>
+
+<table summary="6d fiction">
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">1</td>
+<td><b>A Bid for Fortune</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">18</td>
+<td><b>A Monk of Cruta</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">26</td>
+<td><b>A Daughter of the Marionis</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">33</td>
+<td><b>Love Made Manifest</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">48</td>
+<td><b>The Secret Service</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">51</td>
+<td><b>The Temptress</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">73</td>
+<td><b>Belles and Ringers</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Hawley Smart</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">74</td>
+<td><b>Sarchedon</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">G. J. Whyte-Melville</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">77</td>
+<td><b>Across the World for a Wife</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">82</td>
+<td><b>A Sailor's Bride</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">87</td>
+<td><b>The Survivor</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">98</td>
+<td><b>In Strange Company</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">116</td>
+<td><b>The Traitors</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">122</td>
+<td><b>Dr. Nikola</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">127</td>
+<td><b>The Crimson Blind</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">145</td>
+<td><b>A Bid for Freedom</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">155</td>
+<td><b>The Betrayal</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">160</td>
+<td><b>A Study in Scarlet</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. Conan Doyle</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11a" id="Page_11a">[Pg 11]</a></span>171</td>
+<td><b>The Master Mummer</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">179</td>
+<td><b>The King of Diamonds</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">199</td>
+<td><b>Beneath Her Station</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">233</td>
+<td><b>The Liberationist</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">237</td>
+<td><b>The Mother</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Eden Phillpotts</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">248</td>
+<td><b>The League of the Leopard</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">266</td>
+<td><b>The Powers of Mischief</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Sir Wm. Magnay, Bart.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">277</td>
+<td><b>The Sundial</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred. M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">279</td>
+<td><b>In White Raiment</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">282</td>
+<td><b>The Missioner</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">286</td>
+<td><b>Lorna Doone</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">R. D. Blackmore</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">305</td>
+<td><b>The Sporting Chance</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">323</td>
+<td><b>Vivienne</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">"Rita"</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">342</td>
+<td><b>Countess Londa</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Guy Boothby</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">343</td>
+<td><b>Heath Hover Mystery</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Bertram Mitford</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">351</td>
+<td><b>The Sin of Alison Dering</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">355</td>
+<td><b>Rogues in Arcady</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Sir Wm. Magnay</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">357</td>
+<td><b>Jim Crowshaw's Mary</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred. M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">361</td>
+<td><b>Angela's Marriage</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">362</td>
+<td><b>Bianca's Daughter</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">365</td>
+<td><b>The Legacy</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">367</td>
+<td><b>A Son of the Immortals</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">368</td>
+<td><b>The Witness of the Ring</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Marie Connor Leighton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">369</td>
+<td><b>Christina</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">370</td>
+<td><b>Mr. Marx's Secret</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">372</td>
+<td><b>Lady Clara</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">374</td>
+<td><b>The Secret of the Sands</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">375</td>
+<td><b>The House of the Black Panther</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">376</td>
+<td><b>Hawtrey's Deputy</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">377</td>
+<td><b>The Mystery Queen</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fergus Hume</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">379</td>
+<td><b>Sylvia's Chauffeur</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Louis Tracy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12a" id="Page_12a">[Pg 12]</a></span>381</td>
+<td><b>The Peer and the Women</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">382</td>
+<td><b>A Scarlet Sin</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">383</td>
+<td><b>Her Sacrifice</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Arthur Applin</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">384</td>
+<td><b>Justice</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Marie Connor Leighton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">386</td>
+<td><b>His Little Girl</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">387</td>
+<td><b>Radford Shone</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Headon Hill</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">388</td>
+<td><b>The Open Door</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">409</td>
+<td><b>A Prince of Darkness</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Florence Warden</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">412</td>
+<td><b>The Van Dylk Diamonds</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Arthur Applin</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">417</td>
+<td><b>Pallard, the Punter</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Edgar Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">420</td>
+<td><b>The Supplanter</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">422</td>
+<td><b>Until Seventy Times Seven</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">423</td>
+<td><b>The Secret Cargo</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">J. S. Fletcher</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">425</td>
+<td><b>A Royal Wrong</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">428</td>
+<td><b>One of the Family</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Keble Howard</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">429</td>
+<td><b>Ducks and Drakes</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Marie Connor Leighton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">430</td>
+<td><b>Gilded London</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">431</td>
+<td><b>That Preposterous Will</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">450</td>
+<td><b>The Court of the Angels</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">469</td>
+<td><b>False Evidence</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. P. Oppenheim</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">472</td>
+<td><b>The Woman Who Tempted</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Gertrude Warden</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">490</td>
+<td><b>Souls in Pawn</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Lindsay Russell</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">494</td>
+<td><b>Blackthorn Farm</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Arthur Applin</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">495</td>
+<td><b>All Men are Liars</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">500</td>
+<td><b>The Girl from Nippon</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Carlton Dawe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">506</td>
+<td><b>The Caretaker</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fergus Hume</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">507</td>
+<td><b>The Man Who Bought London</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Edgar Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">508</td>
+<td><b>The Cloak of Darkness</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Sir Wm. Magnay</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">509</td>
+<td><b>Paul Quentin</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">510</td>
+<td><b>The Gates of Sorrow</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Marie Connor Leighton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">511</td>
+<td><b>Jabez Easterbrook</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13a" id="Page_13a">[Pg 13]</a></span>512</td>
+<td><b>The Gates of Silence</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Lindsay Russell</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">514</td>
+<td><b>After Long Years</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">515</td>
+<td><b>The Flying Girl</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Richard Marsh</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">516</td>
+<td><b>The King <i>versus</i> Wargrave</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">J. S. Fletcher</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">517</td>
+<td><b>The Weavers Plot</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">518</td>
+<td><b>The Opening Door</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Justus M. Forman</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">519</td>
+<td><b>The Pearl Necklace</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Arthur Applin</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">520</td>
+<td><b>Uncle Peter's Will</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Silas K. Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">521</td>
+<td><b>A Woman's Word</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">522</td>
+<td><b>A Hazardous Wooing</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">James Blyth</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">523</td>
+<td><b>Human Nature</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Marie Connor Leighton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">524</td>
+<td><b>The Salt of the Earth</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">525</td>
+<td><b>A Debt Discharged</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Edgar Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">526</td>
+<td><b>The Annexation Society</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">J. S. Fletcher</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">527</td>
+<td><b>The Allinson Honour</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Harold Bindloss</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">528</td>
+<td><b>The Wraith of Olverstone</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Florence Warden</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">529</td>
+<td><b>The Interior</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Lindsay Russell</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">530</td>
+<td><b>The Footlight Glare</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. &amp; C. Askew</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">531</td>
+<td><b>The Open Road</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Halliwell Sutcliffe</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">532</td>
+<td><b>The Master of Merripit</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Eden Phillpotts</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">533</td>
+<td><b>The Atonement</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">James Blyth</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">534</td>
+<td><b>An Enemy Hath Done This</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Joseph Hocking</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">535</td>
+<td><b>In the Cause of Freedom</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. W. Marchmont</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">536</td>
+<td><b>Story of a Great Sin</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Marie Connor Leighton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">537</td>
+<td><b>The Red Bicycle</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fergus Hume</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">538</td>
+<td><b>Maid Marjory</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. G. Moberly</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">539</td>
+<td><b>The Little Anarchist</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. W. Marchmont</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">540</td>
+<td><b>A Maker of Secrets</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Wm. Le Queux</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">541</td>
+<td><b>Max Logan</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Paul Trent</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">542</td>
+<td><b>Ambition's Slave</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Fred M. White</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">543</td>
+<td><b>The Tomb of Ts'in</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Edgar Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14a" id="Page_14a">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="gap3">WARD, LOCK &amp; CO.'S</h3>
+
+<h2>STANDARD &amp; DETECTIVE
+NOVELS</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Large Demy 8vo. Attractive Wrapper and
+Frontispiece. 6d.</i></p>
+
+<table summary="Standard and Detective Fiction">
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">2</td>
+<td><b>Kenilworth</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Sir Walter Scott</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">12</td>
+<td><b>Midshipman Easy</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Capt. Marryat</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">13</td>
+<td><b>Japhet in Search of a Father</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">14</td>
+<td><b>Jacob Faithful</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">15</td>
+<td><b>Peter Simple</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">16</td>
+<td><b>The Pickwick Papers</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Chas. Dickens</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">18</td>
+<td><b>Barnaby Rudge</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">19</td>
+<td><b>Old Curiosity Shop</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">20</td>
+<td><b>Martin Chuzzlewit</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">21</td>
+<td><b>Oliver Twist</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">22</td>
+<td><b>Dombey and Son</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">26</td>
+<td><b>The Innocents Abroad</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Mark Twain</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">27</td>
+<td><b>Valentine Vox</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Henry Cockton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">33</td>
+<td><b>Ben-Hur</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Lew Wallace</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">37</td>
+<td><b>Helen's Babies</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">J. Habberton</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">38</td>
+<td><b>Other People's Children</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">39</td>
+<td><b>A Bad Boy's Diary</b></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">40</td>
+<td><b>Blunders of a Bashful Man</b></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">41</td>
+<td><b>Catching a Husband</b></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">45</td>
+<td><b>Out of the Hurly Burly</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Max Adeler</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">48</td>
+<td><b>A Strange Disappearance</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. K. Green</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">51</td>
+<td><b>The Leavenworth Case</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">52</td>
+<td><b>The Circular Study</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15a" id="Page_15a">[Pg 15]</a></span>53</td>
+<td><b>Marked "Personal"</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">59</td>
+<td><b>Shadowed by Three</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">L. L. Lynch</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">61</td>
+<td><b>The Diamond Coterie</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">62</td>
+<td><b>Detective's Daughter</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">63</td>
+<td><b>Out of a Labyrinth</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">65</td>
+<td><b>The Lost Witness</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">68</td>
+<td><b>A Slender Clue</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">76</td>
+<td><b>Toilers of the Sea</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Victor Hugo</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">77</td>
+<td><b>History of a Crime</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">78</td>
+<td><b>Ninety-Three</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">80</td>
+<td><b>Margaret Catchpole</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Rev. R. Cobbold</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">81</td>
+<td><b>Freston Tower</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">84</td>
+<td><b>The Mystery of Orcival</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">E. Gaboriau</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">85</td>
+<td><b>Detective's Dilemma</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">86</td>
+<td><b>Detective's Triumph</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">88</td>
+<td><b>Caught in the Net</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">89</td>
+<td><b>The Champdoce Mystery</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">91</td>
+<td><b>Mr. Barnes of New York</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">A. C. Gunter</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">92</td>
+<td><b>The Princess of Copper</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">95</td>
+<td><b>Jane Eyre</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Charlotte Bront&euml;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">97</td>
+<td><b>Looking Backward</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Edward Bellamy</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">103</td>
+<td><b>Frank Fairlegh</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Frank Smedley</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">104</td>
+<td><b>Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Lewis Carroll</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">106</td>
+<td><b>Tom Brown's School Days</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Hughes</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">133</td>
+<td><b>Crime and the Criminal</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">R. Marsh</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">150</td>
+<td><b>Her Splendid Sin</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Headon Hill</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">151</td>
+<td><b>Caged</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">152</td>
+<td><b>The Avengers</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">160</td>
+<td><b>Lorna Doone</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">R. Blackmore</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">162</td>
+<td><b>For the Term of His Natural Life</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Marcus Clarke</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">169</td>
+<td><b>East Lynne</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Mrs. Henry Wood</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">171</td>
+<td><b>The Shadow of Ashlydyat</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">172</td>
+<td><b>The Channings</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">173</td>
+<td><b>Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="ralign">175</td>
+<td><b>Roland Yorke</b></td>
+<td class="ralign">Ditto</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16a" id="Page_16a">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter gap3" style="width: 158px;">
+<img src="images/image002.jpg" width="158" height="156" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+<p class="center gap3">Ward, Lock &amp; Co., Ltd., London, Melbourne &amp; Toronto.</p>
+
+<div class="bbox gap3" style="padding:1em;">
+<h3>TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES</h3>
+<p>Page 6: FREMY standardised to FRÉMY; SURETE standardised to SURETÉ</p>
+<p>Page 33: hand-bag standardised to handbag</p>
+<p>Page 35: Placé in the phrase "in the Placé Vendôme" as in the original</p>
+<p>Page 41: " changed to ' before You&mdash;you blackguard, and after You've&mdash;you've killed me!</p>
+<p>Page 42: note-paper standardised to notepaper</p>
+<p>Page 47: anenomes corrected to anemones in the phrase "drooping red anenomes"; manservant standardised to man-servant</p>
+<p>Page 126: reopened standardised to re-opened</p>
+<p>Page 127: " removed before If so, what then?</p>
+<p>Page 148: repass standardised to re-pass</p>
+<p>Page 150: over-burdened standardised to overburdened</p>
+<p>Page 160: nonplussed standardised to non-plussed in His question non-plussed me.</p>
+<p>Page 166: arm-chair standardised to armchair</p>
+<p>Page 202: " added after must have happened to her.</p>
+<p>Page 210: " changed to ' before You blackguard, Cane and ' added after why, you've killed me!</p>
+<p>Page 218: ? after No, don't do that as in the original</p>
+<p>Page 240: Bon jour spaced as in the original</p>
+<p>Page 244: " added after Here is the reply,</p>
+<p>Page 249: . added after non-plussed me for the moment</p>
+<p>Page 257: ' corrected to " before My interests!</p>
+<p>Page 267: " added after round of France.</p>
+<p>Page 269: . added after I asked frantically</p>
+<p>Advertising page 9: Author of 108. His Little Girl standardised to Moberly</p>
+<p>Advertising page 14: Blank author names as in original</p>
+
+<p>General: variable hyphenation of street-lamp and street lamp as in the original</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sign of Silence, by William Le Queux
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+</pre>
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+</body>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sign of Silence, by William Le Queux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sign of Silence
+
+Author: William Le Queux
+
+Release Date: November 15, 2009 [EBook #30477]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SIGN OF SILENCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Brownfox and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "'Well,' she asked, 'are you ready?'" (Chap. vi.)
+
+_The Sign of Silence_] [_Frontispiece_
+]
+
+
+
+
+THE SIGN
+
+OF SILENCE
+
+BY
+
+WILLIAM LE QUEUX
+
+_Author of_
+
+_"If Sinners Entice Thee," "The Room of Secrets," etc._
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
+
+LONDON, MELBOURNE AND TORONTO
+
+1917
+
+
+
+
+"THE MASTER OF MYSTERY"
+
+
+WILLIAM LE QUEUX'S NOVELS
+
+
+_WORLD'S OPINIONS._
+
+EUROPE.
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux retains his position as 'The Master of Mystery.'
+... He is far too skilful to allow pause for thought; he whirls his
+readers from incident to incident, holding their attention from the first
+page to the close of the book."--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+"There is no better companion on a railway journey than Mr. William Le
+Queux."--_Daily Mail._
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux is 'The Master of Mystery.' His reputation is
+world-famed."--_Le Matin_ (Paris).
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux's romances are always enthralling. He is the Master
+of the Mystery-story."--_Berliner Tageblatt_ (Berlin).
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux is the most entrancing and thrilling English
+novelist of to-day."--_Neue Freie Presse_ (Vienna).
+
+
+ASIA.
+
+"We always enjoy Mr. Le Queux's novels. His mysteries are
+perfect."--_Englishman_ (Calcutta).
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux has justly earned the title of 'The Master of
+Mystery.'"--_Hong Kong Telegraph._
+
+
+AFRICA.
+
+"As a weaver of mysteries, Mr. William Le Queux has surely no equal. To
+dash about Europe in his company, hot on the heels of an enigma, is a
+pastime both exciting and exhilarating."--_Johannesburg Star._
+
+
+AMERICA.
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux's popularity is steadily increasing. No writer has
+brought mystery and adventure to such a high degree of art. He never
+fails to enthral and entertain us."--_New York Herald._
+
+"Mr. William Le Queux's work is always excellent, and always
+exciting."--_San Francisco Examiner._
+
+"Not without good cause has Mr. Le Queux earned his very apt title, 'The
+Master of Mystery.'"--_El Diario_ (Buenos Ayres).
+
+
+AUSTRALIA.
+
+"Mr. Le Queux is always fresh and original, and one can rely on being
+interested and amused by his stories."--_Sydney Morning Herald._
+
+"For mystery and sensation Mr. Le Queux cannot be beaten."--_Melbourne
+Argus._
+
+"Mr. Le Queux's large public are never satisfied. They always crave for
+more from his pen."--_Christchurch Weekly Press_ (New Zealand).
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    CHAPTER                                    PAGE
+
+         I.--INTRODUCES A GENTLEMAN              7
+
+        II.--THE SCENT                          20
+
+       III.--DESCRIBES THE TRYSTING-PLACE       35
+
+        IV.--"DEAR OLD DIG"                     45
+
+         V.--"TIME WILL PROVE"                  54
+
+        VI.--THE PIECE OF CONVICTION            63
+
+       VII.--FATAL FINGERS                      71
+
+      VIII.--CONTAINS FURTHER EVIDENCE          80
+
+        IX.--DESCRIBES THE YELLOW SIGN          89
+
+         X.--CHERCHEZ LA FEMME                  97
+
+        XI.--IN WHICH AN ALLEGATION IS MADE    108
+
+       XII.--PHRIDA MAKES CONFESSION           117
+
+      XIII.--THE FUGITIVE'S SECRET             126
+
+       XIV.--REVEALS A FURTHER DECEPTION       136
+
+        XV.--AN EFFACED IDENTITY               144
+
+       XVI.--REVEALS ANOTHER ENIGMA            153
+
+      XVII.--CONCERNS MRS. PETRE               162
+
+     XVIII.--DISCLOSES THE TRAP                170
+
+       XIX.--THE SEAL OF SILENCE               179
+
+        XX.--FROM THE TOMB                     187
+
+       XXI.--RECORDS A STRANGE STATEMENT       195
+
+      XXII.--"MARIE BRACQ!"                    203
+
+     XXIII.--LOVE'S CONFESSION                 213
+
+      XXIV.--OFFICIAL SECRECY                  222
+
+       XXV.--FREMY, OF THE SURETE              231
+
+      XXVI.--SHOWS EXPERT METHODS              239
+
+     XXVII.--EDWARDS BECOMES MORE PUZZLED      248
+
+    XXVIII.--FURTHER ADMISSIONS                256
+
+      XXIX.--THE SELLER OF SHAWLS              265
+
+       XXX.--FACE TO FACE                      274
+
+      XXXI.--SHOWS THE TRUTH-TELLER            284
+
+     XXXII.--IS THE CONCLUSION                 294
+
+
+
+
+THE SIGN OF SILENCE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+INTRODUCES A GENTLEMAN.
+
+
+"Then it's an entire mystery?"
+
+"Yes, Phrida."
+
+"But it's astounding! It really seems so utterly impossible," declared my
+well-beloved, amazed at what I had just related.
+
+"I've simply stated hard facts."
+
+"But there's been nothing about this affair in the papers."
+
+"For certain reasons the authorities are not exactly anxious for any
+publicity. It is a very puzzling problem, and they do not care to own
+themselves baffled," I replied.
+
+"Really, it's the most extraordinary story of London life that I've ever
+heard," Phrida Shand declared, leaning forward in her chair, clasping her
+small white hands as, with her elbows upon the _table-a-deux_, she looked
+at me with her wondrous dark eyes across the bowl of red tulips between
+us.
+
+We were lunching together at the Berkeley, in Piccadilly, one January day
+last year, and had just arrived at the dessert.
+
+"The whole thing is quite bewildering, Teddy--an utter enigma," she
+exclaimed in a low, rather strained voice, her pretty, pointed chin
+resting upon the back of her hand as she gazed upon me from beneath those
+long, curved lashes.
+
+"I quite agree," was my answer. "The police are mystified, and so am I.
+Sir Digby Kemsley is my friend, you know."
+
+"I remember," she said. "You once introduced me--at the opening of the
+Motor Show at Olympia, I believe. A very brilliant and famous man, isn't
+he?"
+
+"Rather! A famous engineer. He made the new railway across the Andes, and
+possesses huge rubber interests in Peru. His name, both in Seina and
+Valparaiso, is one to conjure with," was my reply; "but----"
+
+"But what?" queried my well-beloved.
+
+"Well, there's one fact which greatly increases the mystery--a fact which
+is yet to be told."
+
+"What's that?" she asked eagerly.
+
+I hesitated.
+
+"Well, I've been making inquiries this morning," I replied with some
+reluctance, "and I learn to my blank amazement that there is no such
+person as my friend."
+
+"No such person!" she echoed, staring at me, her lips parted. Being
+seated in a corner, no one could overhear our conversation. "I don't
+follow you!"
+
+"Well, Sir Digby died somewhere in South America about a year ago," was
+my quiet response.
+
+"What? Was your friend a fraud, eh?"
+
+"Apparently so. And yet, if he was, he must have been a man of marvellous
+cunning and subterfuge," I said. "He was most popular at the club, known
+at the Ritz and the Savoy, and other places about town."
+
+"He struck me as a man of great refinement--a gentleman, in fact," Phrida
+said. "I recollect him perfectly: tall, rather thin, with a pointed, grey
+beard, a long, oval face, and thinnish, grey hair. A very lithe, erect
+man, whose polite, elegant manner was that of a diplomat, and in whose
+dark eyes was an expression of constant merriment and good humour. He
+spoke with a slight accent--Scotch, isn't it?"
+
+"Exactly. You remember him perfectly, dear. A most excellent
+description," I said; "and that same description has been circulated this
+morning to every police office throughout the United Kingdom, as well as
+to the prefectures of police in all the European capitals. All the ports
+are being watched, as it is expected he may make his way abroad."
+
+"But what do the authorities suspect?" asked Phrida, with a serious look.
+
+"Ah, that's just it! They haven't yet decided what to suspect."
+
+I looked across at her and thought, though slightly more pale than usual,
+she had never appeared more charming.
+
+Sweet-faced, slim, with a soft, sibilant voice, and dainty to her
+finger-tips, she did not look more than nineteen, though her age was
+twenty-four. How shall I describe her save to say that her oval,
+well-defined features were perfect, her dark, arched brows gave piquancy
+to a countenance that was remarked wherever she went, a merry face, with
+a touch of impudence in her smile--the face of an essentially London
+girl.
+
+Only daughter of my father's late partner, James Shand, we had been
+friends from childhood, and our friendship had, three years ago,
+blossomed into a deep and mutual affection. Born and bred in Kensington,
+she cared little for country life. She loved her London, its throbbing
+streets, its life and movement, its concerts, its bright restaurants,
+and, most of all, its theatres--for she was an ardent playgoer.
+
+My father, Edward Royle, was head of the firm of well-known chemical
+manufacturers, Messrs. Royle and Shand, whose works were a feature of the
+river landscape close to Greenwich, and whose offices were in St. Mary
+Axe. He had died two years before, pre-deceasing his partner by a year.
+The business--a big one, for we were the largest chemical manufacturers
+in England--had been left solely in my hands. Shand's widow still lived
+with Phrida in Cromwell Road, drawing from it an income of seven thousand
+pounds yearly.
+
+As for myself, I was a bachelor, aged thirty-two, and if golf be a vice I
+was greatly addicted to it. I occupied a cosy set of chambers, half-way
+up Albemarle Street, and am thankful to say that in consequence of my
+father's business acumen, my balance at my bankers was increasing
+annually. At the works at Greenwich nearly two thousand hands were
+employed, and it had always been the firm's proud boast that they
+laboured under the most healthy conditions possible to secure in the
+manufacture of chemicals.
+
+My father, upon his deathbed, had held my hand and expressed to me his
+profoundest satisfaction at my engagement with the daughter of his
+partner, and almost with his last breath had pronounced a blessing upon
+our union.
+
+Yes, I loved Phrida--loved her with all my heart and all my soul. She was
+mine--mine for ever.
+
+Yet, as I sat at that little table in the white-enamelled restaurant
+gazing at her across the bowl of tulips, I felt a strange, a very curious
+misgiving, an extraordinary misty suspicion, for which I could not in the
+least account.
+
+I experienced a strange intuition of doubt and vague uncertainty.
+
+The facts we had just been discussing were, to say the least, amazing.
+
+Only the Metropolitan Police and myself were aware of the astounding
+discovery which had been made that morning--a discovery of which the
+ever-vigilant London evening newspapers had as yet no inkling.
+
+The affair was being carefully hushed up. In certain quarters--high
+official quarters, I believe--a flutter of excitement had been caused at
+noon, when it had become known that a mystery had occurred, one which at
+the outset New Scotland Yard had acknowledged itself utterly without a
+clue.
+
+About the affair there was nothing usual, nothing commonplace. The murder
+mysteries of London always form exciting reading, for it is surely the
+easiest work of the practised journalist to put forward from day to day
+fresh clues and exciting propositions.
+
+The present case, however, was an entirely fresh and unheard-of mystery,
+one such as London had never before known.
+
+In the whole annals of Scotland Yard no case presenting such unusual
+features had previously been reported.
+
+"Have you no theory as to what really occurred?" Phrida asked slowly,
+after a very long and pensive silence.
+
+"None whatever, dear," I replied.
+
+What theory could I form? Aye, what indeed?
+
+In order that the exact truth should be made entirely plain to the reader
+and the mystery viewed in all its phases, it will be best for me to
+briefly record the main facts prior to entering upon any detail.
+
+The following were the circumstances exactly as I knew them.
+
+At twenty-five minutes to ten on the previous night--the night of January
+the sixth--I was at home in Albemarle Street, writing letters. Haines, my
+man, had gone out, and I was alone, when the telephone bell rang. Taking
+up the receiver I heard the cheery voice of Sir Digby Kemsley asking what
+I was doing. My prompt reply was that I was staying at home that night,
+whereupon his voice changed and he asked me in great earnestness to come
+over to his flat in Harrington Gardens, South Kensington, at eleven
+o'clock.
+
+"And look here," he added in a confidential tone, "the outside door will
+be closed at half-past ten and the porter off duty. I'll go down just
+before eleven and leave the door ajar. Don't let anyone see you come in.
+Be extremely careful. I have reasons I'll explain afterwards."
+
+"Right," I replied, and shut off.
+
+His request seemed just a little curious. It struck me that he perhaps
+wished to consult with me over some private matter, as he had done once
+before. Therefore, just before eleven I hailed a taxi in Piccadilly and
+drove westward past Gloucester Road Station, and into the quiet,
+eminently select neighbourhood where my friend lived.
+
+At eleven o'clock Harrington Gardens--that long thoroughfare of big
+rather gloomy houses, most of them residences of City merchants, or town
+houses or flats of people who have seats in the country--was as silent as
+the grave, and my taxi awoke its echoes until, about half way up, I
+stopped the man, alighted, and paid him off.
+
+Then, after walking a couple of hundred yards, I found the door ajar and
+slipped into the hall unobserved.
+
+Ascending the wide carpeted steps to the second floor, the door of the
+flat was opened noiselessly by the owner himself, and a few seconds later
+I found myself seated before a big fire in his snug sitting-room.
+
+My friend's face was grey and entirely changed, yet his manner was still
+as polished, cheery, and buoyant as ever.
+
+The flat--quite a small one, though very expensive as he had once
+remarked to me--was furnished throughout with elegance and taste. Upon
+its walls everywhere hung curios and savage arms, which he had brought
+from various parts of the world. The drawing-room was furnished entirely
+in Arab style, with cedar-wood screens, semi-circular arches, low, soft
+divans and silken rugs, which he had bought in Egypt, while, in contrast,
+the little den in which we were sitting at that moment was panelled in
+white with an old-rose carpet, rendering it essentially bright and
+modern.
+
+The tall, grey-bearded, elegant man handed me a box of Perfectos Finos,
+from which we selected, and then, throwing myself into a chair, I slowly
+lit up.
+
+His back was turned from me at the moment, as he leaned over the
+writing-table apparently gathering up some papers which he did not desire
+that I should see. He was facing a circular mirror on the wall, and in it
+I could see his countenance reflected. The expression upon his
+face--cold, cynical, sinister--startled me. He placed the papers in a
+drawer and locked it with a key upon his chain.
+
+"Well?" I asked. "Why all this confounded mystery, Digby?"
+
+He turned upon me quickly, his long face usually so full of merriment,
+grey and drawn. I saw instantly that something very serious was amiss.
+
+"I--I want to ask your advice, Royle," he replied in a hard voice scarce
+above a whisper. Walking to the pretty rug of old-rose and pale green
+silk spread before the fire he stood upon it, facing me. "And--well,
+truth to tell, I don't want it to be known that you've been here
+to-night, old fellow."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"For certain private reasons--very strong reasons."
+
+"As you wish, my dear chap," was my response, as I drew at his perfect
+cigar.
+
+Then he looked me straight in the face and said: "My motive in asking you
+here to-night, Royle, is to beg of you to extend your valued friendship
+to me at a moment which is the greatest crisis of my career. The fact is,
+I've played the game of life falsely, and the truth must out,
+unless--unless you will consent to save me."
+
+"I don't follow you," I said, staring at him. "What in heaven's name do
+you mean?"
+
+"My dear boy, I'll put my cards down on the table at once," he said in a
+slow, deep tone. "Let's see--we've known each other for nearly a year.
+You have been my best friend, entirely devoted to my interests--a staunch
+friend, better than whom no man could ever desire. In return I've lied to
+you, led you to believe that I am what I am not. Why? Because--well, I
+suppose I'm no different to any other man--or woman for the matter of
+that--I have a skeleton in my cupboard--a grim skeleton, my dear Royle.
+One which I've always striven to hide--until to-night," he added with
+emotion.
+
+"But that hardly interferes with our friendship, does it? We all of us
+have our private affairs, both of business and of heart," I said.
+
+"The heart," he echoed bitterly. "Ah! yes--the heart. You, my dear boy,
+are a man of the world. You understand life. You are never
+narrow-minded--eh?" he asked, advancing a step nearer to me.
+
+"I hope not," I said. "At any rate, I've always been your friend, ever
+since our first meeting on the steamer on the Lake of Garda, last
+February."
+
+The eminent engineer rolled his cigar between his fingers, and calmly
+contemplated it in silence.
+
+Then, quite abruptly, he exclaimed:
+
+"Royle, my present misfortune is due to a woman."
+
+"Ah!" I sighed. "A woman! Always a woman in such cases! Well?"
+
+"Mind you, I don't blame her in the least," he went on quickly, "I--I was
+hot-tempered, and I miscalculated her power. We quarrelled, and--and she,
+though so young, refined and pretty, has arisen to crush me."
+
+"Anyone I know?"
+
+"No. I think not," was his slow reply, his dark eyes gazing full into
+mine as he still stood astride upon the hearthrug.
+
+Then he fidgeted uneasily, stroked his well-clipped grey beard with his
+strong, bronzed hand, and strode across the room and back again.
+
+"Look here, Royle," he exclaimed at last. "You're my friend, so I may as
+well speak straight out. Will you help me?"
+
+"Certainly--if I can."
+
+"I'm in a hole--a confounded hole. I've been worried ever since I got
+back from Egypt just before Christmas. Only you can save me."
+
+"Me! Why?"
+
+"I want you to remain my friend; to still believe in me, when--well--when
+I've gone under," he answered brokenly, his brows contracting as he
+spoke.
+
+"I don't understand you."
+
+"Then I'll speak more plainly. To-night is the last time we shall meet.
+I've played the game, I tell you--and I've lost!"
+
+"You seem horribly hipped about something to-night, my dear fellow!" I
+exclaimed in wonder at his strange words. In all my circle of friends no
+man was more level-headed than Sir Digby Kemsley.
+
+"Yes, I'm not quite myself. Perhaps you wouldn't be, Royle, in the same
+circumstances." Halting, he stood erect with his hands clasped behind his
+back. Even then, at that moment of despair, he presented the fine figure
+of a man in his well-cut dinner clothes and the single ruby in his pique
+shirt-front. "I want to entrust a secret to you--a great secret," he went
+on a few seconds later. "I tell you that to-night is the last occasion
+we shall ever meet, but I beg--may I implore you to judge me with
+leniency, to form no unjust conclusions, and when you remember me to
+regard my memory as that of a man who was not a rogue, but a victim of
+untoward circumstances."
+
+"Really, my dear fellow," I said, "you speak in enigmas. What do you
+mean--you intend what?"
+
+"That matters nothing to you, Royle," was his hoarse reply. "I merely ask
+for your continued friendship. I ask that you will treat my successor
+here in the exact manner in which you have treated me--that you will
+become his firm friend--and that you will perform for me one great and
+most important service."
+
+"Your successor! Who will succeed you? You have no son!"
+
+"No, I have no male relation whatever," he replied. "But we were speaking
+of the favour I am begging of you to perform for me. On the fourteenth of
+January I shall not be here, but it is highly necessary that on that
+evening, at eight o'clock, a secret message should be delivered into the
+hands of a certain lady--a message from myself. Will you do it?"
+
+"Certainly. Are you going abroad again?"
+
+"I--well, I can hardly tell. I may be dead by then--who knows?" And he
+smiled grimly.
+
+He returned to his writing-table, unlocked a drawer, and took therefrom a
+letter which was carefully sealed with black wax.
+
+"Now, listen," he said, holding the letter in his fingers; "on the night
+of the fourteenth, just at eight o'clock precisely, go to the Piccadilly
+tube station, stand at the telephone box numbered four on the Haymarket
+side, when a lady in black will approach you and ask news of me. In
+response you will give her this note. But there is a further condition:
+you may be watched and recognised, therefore be extremely careful that
+you are not followed on that day, and, above all, adopt some effective
+disguise. Go there dressed as a working-man, I would suggest."
+
+"That request, Kemsley, is certainly a very queer one," I remarked. "Is
+she _the_ lady?"
+
+He smiled, and I took that as an affirmative.
+
+"You say she'll be dressed in black. Lots of ladies dress in black. I
+might mistake her."
+
+"Not very likely. I forgot to tell you that she will wear a small spray
+of mimosa."
+
+"Ah, that shows originality," I remarked. "Mimosa is not often worn on
+the person."
+
+"It will serve as a distinguishing mark." Then, after a pause, he added,
+handing me the letter: "There is one further request I want to make--or,
+at least, I want you to give me your promise, Royle. I ask you to make a
+solemn vow to me that if any suspicion arises within your mind, that you
+will believe nothing without absolute and decisive proof. I mean that you
+will not misjudge her."
+
+"I certainly will not."
+
+"Your hand upon it?"
+
+I put forth my hand and, gripping his warmly, gave him my word of honour.
+
+"I hope you will never regret this, Royle," he said in an earnest tone.
+
+"We are friends," I remarked simply.
+
+"And I trust, Royle, you will never regret the responsibility which you
+have accepted on my behalf," he said in a deep, hard voice--the voice of
+a desperate man. "Remember to treat my successor exactly as you have
+treated me. Be his best friend, as he will be yours. You will be
+astonished, amazed, mystified, no doubt, at the events which must, alas!
+inevitably occur. But it is not my fault, Royle, believe me," he declared
+with solemn emphasis. "It is, alas! my misfortune!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE SCENT.
+
+
+After giving me the letter, and receiving my assurance that it would be
+safely delivered, Sir Digby's spirits seemed somewhat to revive.
+
+He chatted in his old, good-humoured style, drank a whisky and soda, and,
+just before one o'clock, let me out, urging me to descend the stairs
+noiselessly lest the hall-porter should know that he had had a visitor.
+
+Time after time I had questioned him regarding his strange reference to
+his successor, but to all my queries he was entirely dumb. He had, I
+recollected, never been the same since his return from a flying visit to
+Egypt.
+
+"The future will, no doubt, astound you, but I know, Royle, that you are
+a man of honour and of your word, and that you will keep your promise at
+all hazards," was all he would reply.
+
+The secrecy with which I had entered and left caused me considerable
+curiosity. Kemsley was one of those free, bluff, open-hearted,
+open-handed, men. He was never secretive, never elusive. I could only
+account for his curious, mystifying actions by the fact that the
+reputation of a woman was at stake--that he was acting for her
+protection.
+
+And I was to meet that woman face to face in eight days' time!
+
+As I walked towards Gloucester Road Station--where I hoped to find a
+taxi--all was silence. At that hour the streets of South Kensington are
+as deserted as a graveyard, and as I bent towards the cutting wind from
+the east, I wondered who could be the mysterious woman who had broken up
+my dear friend's future plans. Yet he bore her no malice. Some men's
+temperaments are really curious.
+
+Beneath a street-lamp I paused and looked at the superscription upon the
+envelope. It ran:
+
+    "For E. P. K."
+
+The initial K! Was the lady Digby's wife? That was the suspicion which at
+once fell upon me, and by which I became convinced.
+
+At half-past one o'clock I let myself into my own flat in Albemarle
+Street. The faithful Haines, who had been a marine wardroom servant in
+the navy before entering my employ, was awaiting me.
+
+"The telephone bell rang ten minutes ago, sir," he said. "Sir Digby
+Kemsley wishes to speak to you."
+
+"Very well!" I replied. "You can go to bed."
+
+The man placed my tray with whisky and soda upon the little table near my
+chair, as was his habit, and, wishing me good-night, retired.
+
+I went to the telephone, and asked for Digby's number.
+
+After a few seconds a voice, which at first I failed to recognise,
+replied to mine:
+
+"I say, Royle; I'm so sorry to disturb you, old chap, but could you
+possibly come back here at once?"
+
+"What?" I asked, very surprised. "Is it so very important? Can't it wait
+till to-morrow?"
+
+"No, unfortunately it can't. It's most imperative that I should see you.
+Something has happened. Do come!" he begged. "But don't attract
+attention--you understand!"
+
+"Something happened!" I echoed. "What?"
+
+"That woman. Come at once--do, there's a good fellow. Will you--for my
+sake and hers?"
+
+The mention of the woman decided me, so I replied "All right!" and hung
+up the receiver.
+
+Within half an hour I alighted in Courtfield Gardens and walked up
+Harrington Gardens to the door of my friend's house, which I saw was
+already ajar in anticipation of my arrival.
+
+Closing the door noiselessly, in order not to attract the attention of
+the alert porter who lived in the basement, I crept up the carpeted
+stairs to the door of the flat, which I found also ajar.
+
+Having closed the door, I slipped into the hall and made my way to the
+warm, cosy room I had left earlier that night.
+
+The door was closed, and without ceremony I turned the handle.
+
+I threw it open laughingly in order to surprise my friend, but next
+instant halted in amazement upon the threshold.
+
+I stood there breathless, staring in speechless wonder, and drawing back.
+
+"I'm really very sorry!" I exclaimed. "I thought Sir Digby was here!"
+
+The man who had risen from his chair and bowed when I opened the door was
+about the same build, but, apparently, a trifle younger. He had iron-grey
+hair and a pointed beard, but his face was more triangular, with higher
+cheek-bones, and eyes more brilliant and deeper set.
+
+His thin countenance relaxed into a pleasant smile as he replied in a
+calm, suave voice:
+
+"I am Sir Digby Kemsley, and you--I believe--are Mr. Edward Royle--my
+friend--my very intimate friend--are you not?"
+
+"You!" I gasped, staring at him.
+
+And then, for several seconds I failed to articulate any further words.
+The imposture was so utterly barefaced.
+
+"You are not Sir Digby Kemsley," I went on angrily at last. "What trick
+is this?"
+
+"No trick whatever, my dear Royle," was the man's quiet reply as he stood
+upon the hearthrug in the same position in which my friend had stood an
+hour before. "I tell you that my name is Kemsley--Sir Digby Kemsley."
+
+"Then you assert that this flat is yours?"
+
+"Most certainly I do."
+
+"Bosh! How can you expect me to believe such a transparent tale?" I cried
+impatiently. "Where is my friend?"
+
+"I am your friend, my dear Royle!" he laughed.
+
+"You're not."
+
+"But did you not, only an hour ago, promise him to treat his successor in
+the same manner in which you had treated himself?" the man asked very
+slowly, his high, deep-set eyes fixed upon me with a crafty, almost
+snake-like expression, an expression that was distinctly one of evil.
+
+"True, I did," was my quick reply. "But I never bargained for this
+attempted imposture."
+
+"I tell you it is no imposture!" declared the man before me. "You will,
+perhaps, understand later. Have a cigar," and he took up Digby's box and
+handed it to me.
+
+I declined very abruptly, and without much politeness, I fear.
+
+I was surveying the man who, with such astounding impudence, was
+attempting to impose upon me a false identity. There was something
+curiously striking in his appearance, but what it was I could not exactly
+determine. His speech was soft and educated, in a slightly higher pitch
+than my friend's; his hands white and carefully manicured, yet, as he
+stood, I noted that his left shoulder was slightly higher than the other,
+that his dress clothes ill-fitted him in consequence; that in his
+shirt-front were two rare, orange-coloured gems such as I had never seen
+before, and, further, that when I caught him side face, it much resembled
+Digby's, so aquiline as to present an almost birdlike appearance.
+
+"Look here!" I exclaimed in anger a few moments later. "Why have you
+called me over here? When you spoke to me your voice struck me as
+peculiar, but I put it down to the distortion of sound on the telephone."
+
+"I wanted to see if you recognised my other self," he answered with a
+smile.
+
+"At this late hour? Couldn't you have postponed your ghastly joke till
+the morning?" I asked.
+
+"Joke!" he echoed, his face suddenly pale and serious. "This is no joke,
+Royle, but a very serious matter. The most serious that can occur in any
+man's life."
+
+"Well, what is it? Tell me the truth."
+
+"You shall know that later."
+
+"Where is Sir Digby?"
+
+"Here! I am Sir Digby, I tell you."
+
+"I mean my friend."
+
+"I am your friend," was the man's response, as he turned away towards the
+writing-table. "The friend you first met on the Lake of Garda."
+
+"Now, why all this secrecy?" I asked. "I was first called here and warned
+not to show myself, and, on arrival, find you here."
+
+"And who else did you expect to find?" he asked with a faint smile.
+
+"I expected to find my friend."
+
+"But I am your friend," he asserted. "You promised me only an hour ago
+that you would treat my successor exactly as you treated me. And," he
+added, "I am my own successor!"
+
+I stood much puzzled.
+
+There were certain features in his countenance that were much like
+Digby's, and certain tones in his voice that were the same. His hands
+seemed the same, too, and yet he was not Digby himself.
+
+"How can I believe you if you refuse to be frank and open with me?" I
+asked.
+
+"You promised me, Royle, and a good deal depends upon your promise," he
+replied, looking me squarely in the face. "Perhaps even your own
+future."
+
+"My future!" I echoed. "What has that to do with you, pray?" I demanded
+angrily.
+
+"More than you imagine," was his low response, his eyes fixed upon mine.
+
+"Well, all I know is that you are endeavouring to make me believe that
+you are what you are not. Some evil purpose is, no doubt, behind it all.
+But such an endeavour is an insult to my intelligence," I declared.
+
+The man laughed a low, harsh laugh and turned away.
+
+"I demand to know where my friend is!" I cried, stepping after him across
+the room, and facing him again.
+
+"My dear Royle," he replied, in that curious, high-pitched voice, yet
+with a calm, irritating demeanour. "Haven't I already told you I am your
+friend?"
+
+"It's a lie! You are not Sir Digby!" I cried angrily. "I shall inform the
+police that I've found you usurping his place and name, and leave them to
+solve the mystery."
+
+"Act just as you think fit, my dear old fellow," he laughed. "Perhaps the
+police might discover more than you yourself would care for them to
+know."
+
+His words caused me to ponder. At what could he be hinting?
+
+He saw my hesitancy, and with a sudden movement placed his face close to
+me, saying:
+
+"My dear fellow look--look into my countenance, you surely can penetrate
+my disguise. It cannot be so very perfect, surely."
+
+I looked, but turned from him in disgust.
+
+"No. Stop this infernal fooling!" I cried. "I've never seen you before in
+my life."
+
+He burst out laughing--laughed heartily, and with genuine amusement.
+
+His attitude held me in surprise.
+
+"You refuse to be my friend, Royle--but I desire to be yours, if you will
+allow me," he said.
+
+"I can have no friend whom I cannot trust," I repeated.
+
+"Naturally. But I hope you will soon learn to trust me," was his quiet
+retort. "I called you back to-night in order to see if you--my most
+intimate friend--would recognise me. But you do not. I am, therefore,
+safe--safe to go forth and perform a certain mission which it is
+imperative that I should perform."
+
+"You are fooling me," I declared.
+
+For a second he looked straight and unflinchingly into my eyes, then with
+a sudden movement he drew the left cuff of his dress shirt up to the
+elbow and held out his forearm for me to gaze upon.
+
+I looked.
+
+Then I stood dumbfounded, for half-way up the forearm, on the inside, was
+the cicatrice of an old knife wound which long ago, he had told me, had
+been made by an Indian in South America who had attempted to kill him,
+and whom he had shot in self-defence.
+
+"You believe me now?" he asked, in a voice scarce above a whisper.
+
+"Of course," I said. "Pardon me, Digby--but this change in your
+personality is marvellous--almost superhuman!"
+
+"So I've been told before," he replied lightly.
+
+"But, really, didn't you penetrate it?" he asked, resuming his normal
+voice.
+
+"No. I certainly did not," I answered, and helping myself to a drink,
+swallowed it.
+
+"Well?" I went on. "What does this mean?"
+
+"At present I can't exactly tell you what I intend doing," he replied.
+"To-night I wanted to test you, and have done so. It's late now," he
+added, glancing at the clock, which showed it to be half-past two o'clock
+in the morning. "Come in to-morrow at ten, will you?" he asked. "I want
+to discuss the future with you very seriously. I have something to say
+which concerns your own future, and which also closely concerns a friend
+of yours. So come in your own interests, Royle--now don't fail, I beg of
+you!"
+
+"But can't you tell me to-night," I asked.
+
+"Not until I know something of what my own movements are to be," he
+replied. "I cannot know before to-morrow," he replied with a mysterious
+air. "So if you wish to be forewarned of an impending peril, come and see
+me and I will then explain. We shall, no doubt, be on closer terms
+to-morrow. _Au revoir_," and he took my hand warmly and then let me out.
+
+The rather narrow, ill-lit staircase, the outer door of which had been
+shut for hours, was close and stuffy, but as I descended the second
+flight and was about to pass along the hall to the door, I distinctly
+heard a movement in the shadow where, on my left, the hall continued
+along to the door of the ground-floor flat.
+
+I peered over the banisters, but in the darkness could distinguish
+nothing.
+
+That somebody was lurking there I instantly felt assured, and next
+moment the truth became revealed by two facts.
+
+The first was a light, almost imperceptible noise, the jingle of a
+woman's bangles, and, secondly, the faint odour of some subtle perfume, a
+sweet, intoxicating scent such as my nostrils had never greeted before.
+
+For the moment I felt surprise, but as the hidden lady was apparently
+standing outside the ground-floor flat--perhaps awaiting admittance--I
+felt it to be no concern of mine, and proceeding, opened the outer door
+and passed outside, closing it quietly after me.
+
+An unusually sweet perfume one can seldom forget. Even out in the keen
+night air that delightful odour seemed to cling to my memory--the latest
+creation of the Rue de la Paix, I supposed.
+
+Well, I duly returned home to Albemarle Street once again, utterly
+mystified.
+
+What did it all mean? Why had Digby adopted such a marvellous disguise?
+What did he mean by saying that he wished to stand my friend and
+safeguard me from impending evil?
+
+Yes, it was all a mystery--but surely not so great a mystery as that
+which was to follow. Ah! had I but suspected the astounding truth how
+very differently would I have acted!
+
+Filled with curiosity regarding Digby's strange forebodings, I alighted
+from a taxi in Harrington Gardens at a quarter to eleven that same
+morning, but on entering found the uniformed hall-porter in a great state
+of excitement and alarm.
+
+"Oh, sir!" he cried breathlessly, advancing towards me. "You're a friend
+of Sir Digby's sir. The police are upstairs. Something extraordinary has
+happened."
+
+"The police!" I gasped. "Why, what's happened?"
+
+"Well, sir. As his man left the day before yesterday, my wife went up to
+Sir Digby's flat as usual this morning about eight, and put him his early
+cup of tea outside his door. But when she went in again she found he had
+not taken it into his room. She believed him to be asleep, so not till
+ten o'clock did she go into the sitting-room to draw up the blinds, when,
+to her horror, she found a young lady, a perfect stranger, lying
+stretched on the floor there! She rushed down and told me, and I went up.
+I found that Sir Digby's bed hadn't been slept in, and that though the
+poor girl was unconscious, she was still breathing. So I at once called
+in the constable on point duty at the corner of Collingham Road, and he
+'phoned to the police station."
+
+"But the girl--is she dead?" I inquired quickly.
+
+"I don't know, sir. You'd better go upstairs. There's an inspector, two
+plain-clothes men, and a doctor up there."
+
+He took me up in the lift, and a few moments later I stood beside Digby's
+bed, whereon the men had laid the inanimate form of a well-dressed girl
+whom I judged to be about twenty-two, whose dark hair, unbound, lay in
+disorder upon the pillow. The face, white as marble, was handsome and
+clean cut, but upon it, alas! was the ashen hue of death, the pale lips
+slightly parted as though in a half-sarcastic smile.
+
+The doctor was bending over her making his examination.
+
+I looked upon her for a moment, but it was a countenance which I had
+never seen before. Digby had many lady friends, but I had never seen her
+among them. She was a perfect stranger.
+
+Her gown was of dark blue serge, smartly made, and beneath her coat she
+wore a cream silk blouse with deep sailor collar open at the neck, and a
+soft flowing bow of turquoise blue. This, however, had been disarranged
+by the doctor in opening her blouse to listen to her breathing, and I saw
+that upon it was a small crimson stain.
+
+Yes, she was remarkably good-looking, without a doubt.
+
+When I announced myself as an intimate friend of Sir Digby Kemsley, the
+inspector at once took me into the adjoining room and began to eagerly
+question me.
+
+With him I was perfectly frank; but I said nothing regarding my second
+visit there in the night.
+
+My gravest concern was the whereabouts of my friend.
+
+"This is a very curious case, Mr. Royle," declared the inspector. "The
+C.I.D. men have established one fact--that another woman was with the
+stranger here in the early hours of this morning. This hair-comb"--and he
+showed me a small side-comb of dark green horn--"was found close beside
+her on the floor. Also a couple of hair-pins, which are different to
+those in the dead woman's hair. There was a struggle, no doubt, and the
+woman got away. In the poor girl's hair are two tortoiseshell
+side-combs."
+
+"But what is her injury?" I asked breathlessly.
+
+"She's been stabbed," he replied. "Let's go back."
+
+Together we re-entered the room, but as we did so we saw that the doctor
+had now left the bedside, and was speaking earnestly with the two
+detectives.
+
+"Well, doctor?" asked the inspector in a low voice.
+
+"She's quite dead--murder, without a doubt," was his reply. "The girl was
+struck beneath the left breast--a small punctured wound, but fatal!"
+
+"The woman who left this hair-comb behind knows something about the
+affair evidently," exclaimed the inspector. "We must first discover Sir
+Digby Kemsley. He seems to have been here up until eleven o'clock last
+night. Then he mysteriously disappeared, and the stranger entered unseen,
+two very curious and suspicious circumstances. I wonder who the poor girl
+was?"
+
+The two detectives were discussing the affair in low voices. Here was a
+complete and very remarkable mystery, which, from the first, the police
+told me they intended to keep to themselves, and not allow a syllable of
+it to leak out to the public through the newspapers.
+
+A woman had been there!
+
+Did there not exist vividly in my recollection that strange encounter in
+the darkness of the stairs? The jingle of the golden bangles, and the
+sweet odour of that delicious perfume?
+
+But I said nothing. I intended that the police should prosecute their
+inquiries, find my friend, and establish the identity of the mysterious
+girl who had met with such an untimely end presumably at the hands of
+that woman who had been lurking in the darkness awaiting my departure.
+
+Truly it was a mystery, a most remarkable problem among the many which
+occur each week amid the amazing labyrinth of humanity which we term
+London life.
+
+Sir Digby Kemsley had disappeared. Where?
+
+Half an hour after noon I had left Harrington Gardens utterly bewildered,
+and returned to Albemarle Street, and at half-past one met Phrida at the
+Berkeley, where, as I have already described, we lunched together.
+
+I had revealed to her everything under seal of the secrecy placed upon me
+by the police--everything save that suspicion I had had in the darkness,
+and the suspicion the police also held--the suspicion of a woman.
+
+Relation of the curious affair seemed to have unnerved her. She had
+become paler and was fidgeting with her serviette. Loving me so
+devotedly, she seemed to entertain vague and ridiculous fears regarding
+my own personal safety.
+
+"It was very foolish and hazardous of you to have returned there at that
+hour, dear," she declared with sweet solicitation, as she drew on her
+white gloves preparatory to leaving the restaurant, for I had already
+paid the bill and drained my liqueur-glass.
+
+"I don't see why," I said. "Whatever could have happened to me, when----"
+
+My sentence remained unfinished.
+
+I held my breath. The colour must have left my cheeks, I know.
+
+My well-beloved had at that moment opened her handbag and taken out her
+wisp of lace handkerchief.
+
+My nostrils were instantly filled with that same sweet, subtle perfume
+which I so vividly recollected, the identical perfume of the woman
+concealed in that dark passage-way!
+
+Her bangles, two thin gold ones, jingled as she moved--that same sound
+which had come up to me from the blackness. I sat like a statue, staring
+at her amazed, aghast, like a man in a dream.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+DESCRIBES THE TRYSTING-PLACE.
+
+
+I drove Phrida back to Cromwell Road in a taxi.
+
+As I sat beside her, that sweet irritating perfume filled my senses,
+almost intoxicating me. For some time I remained silent; then, unable to
+longer restrain my curiosity, I exclaimed with a calm, irresponsible air,
+though with great difficulty of self-restraint:
+
+"What awfully nice perfume you have, dearest! Surely it's new, isn't it?
+I never remember smelling it before!"
+
+"Quite new, and rather delicious, don't you think? My cousin Arthur
+brought it from Paris a few days ago. I only opened the bottle last
+night. Mother declared it to be the sweetest she's ever smelt. It's so
+very strong that one single drop is sufficient."
+
+"What do they call it?"
+
+"Parfait d'Amour. Lauzan, in the Place Vendome, makes it. It's quite new,
+and not yet on the market, Arthur said. He got it--a sample bottle--from
+a friend of his in the perfume trade."
+
+Not on the market! Those words of hers condemned her. Little did she
+dream that I had smelt that same sweet, subtle odour as I descended the
+stairs from Sir Digby's flat. She, no doubt, had recognised my silhouette
+in the half darkness, yet nevertheless she felt herself quite safe,
+knowing that I had not seen her.
+
+Why had she been lurking there?
+
+A black cloud of suspicion fell upon me. She kept up a desultory
+conversation as we went along Piccadilly in the dreary gloom of that dull
+January afternoon, but I only replied in monosyllables, until at length
+she remarked:
+
+"Really, Teddy, you're not thinking of a word I'm saying. I suppose your
+mind is centred upon your friend--the man who has turned out to be an
+impostor."
+
+The conclusion of that sentence and its tone showed a distinct
+antagonism.
+
+It was true that the man whom I had known as Sir Digby Kemsley--the man
+who for years past had been so popular among a really good set in
+London--was according to the police an impostor.
+
+The detective-inspector had told me so. From the flat in Harrington
+Gardens the men of the Criminal Investigation Department had rung up New
+Scotland Yard to make their report, and about noon, while I was resting
+at home in Albemarle Street, I was told over the telephone that my whilom
+friend was not the man I had believed him to be.
+
+As I had listened to the inspector's voice, I heard him say:
+
+"There's another complication of this affair, Mr. Royle. Your friend
+could not have been Sir Digby Kemsley, for that gentleman died suddenly a
+year ago, at Huacho, in Peru. There was some mystery about his death, it
+seems, for it was reported by the British Consul at Lima. Inspector
+Edwards, of the C.I. Department, will call upon you this afternoon. What
+time could you conveniently be at home?"
+
+I named five o'clock, and that appointment I intended, at all hazards, to
+keep.
+
+The big, heavily-furnished drawing-room in Cromwell Road was dark and
+sombre as I stood with Phrida, who, bright and happy, pulled off her
+gloves and declared to her mother--that charming, sedate, grey-haired,
+but wonderfully preserved, woman--that she had had such "a jolly lunch."
+
+"I saw the Redmaynes there, mother," she was saying. "Mr. Redmayne has
+asked us to lunch with them at the Carlton next Tuesday. Can we go?"
+
+"I think so, dear," was her mother's reply. "I'll look at my
+engagements."
+
+"Oh, do let's go! Ida is coming home from her trip to the West Indies. I
+do want to see her so much."
+
+Strange it was that my well-beloved, in face of that amazing mystery,
+preserved such an extraordinary, nay, an astounding, calm. I was thinking
+of the little side-comb of green horn, for I had seen her wearing a pair
+exactly similar!
+
+Standing by I watched her pale sweet countenance, full of speechless
+wonder.
+
+After the first moment of suspense she had found herself treading firm
+ground, and now, feeling herself perfectly secure, she had assumed a
+perfectly frank and confident attitude.
+
+Yet the perfume still arose to my nostrils--the sweet, subtle scent which
+had condemned her.
+
+I briefly related to Mrs. Shand my amazing adventures of the previous
+night, my eyes furtively upon Phrida's countenance the while. Strangely
+enough, she betrayed no guilty knowledge, but fell to discussing the
+mystery with ease and common-sense calm.
+
+"What I can't really make out is how your friend could have had the
+audacity to pose as Sir Digby Kemsley, well knowing that the real person
+was alive," she remarked.
+
+"The police have discovered that Sir Digby died in Peru last January," I
+said.
+
+"While your friend was in London?"
+
+"Certainly. My friend--I shall still call him Sir Digby, for I have known
+him by no other name--has not been abroad since last July, when he went
+on business to Moscow."
+
+"How very extraordinary," remarked Mrs. Shand. "Your friend must surely
+have had some object in posing as the dead man."
+
+"But he posed as a man who was still alive!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Until, perhaps, he was found out," observed Phrida shrewdly. "Then he
+bolted."
+
+I glanced at her quickly. Did those words betray any knowledge of the
+truth, I wondered.
+
+"Apparently there was some mystery surrounding the death of Sir Digby at
+Huacho," I remarked. "The British Consul in Lima made a report upon it to
+the Foreign Office, who, in turn, handed it to Scotland Yard. I wonder
+what it was."
+
+"When you know, we shall be better able to judge the matter and to form
+some theory," Phrida said, crossing the room and re-arranging the big
+bowl of daffodils in the window.
+
+I remained about an hour, and then, amazed at the calmness of my
+well-beloved, I returned to my rooms.
+
+In impatience I waited till a quarter past five, when Haines ushered in a
+tall, well-dressed, clean-shaven man, wearing a dark grey overcoat and
+white slip beneath his waistcoat, and who introduced himself as Inspector
+Charles Edwards.
+
+"I've called, Mr. Royle, in order to make some further inquiries
+regarding this person you have known as Sir Digby Kemsley," he said when
+he had seated himself. "A very curious affair happened last night. I've
+been down to Harrington Gardens, and have had a look around there myself.
+Many features of the affair are unique."
+
+"Yes," I agreed. "It is curious--very curious."
+
+"I have a copy of your statement regarding your visit to the house during
+the night," said the official, who was one of the Council of Seven at the
+Yard, looking up at me suddenly from the cigarette he was about to light.
+"Have you any suspicion who killed the young lady?"
+
+"How can I have--except that my friend----"
+
+"Is missing--eh?"
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"But now, tell me all about this friend whom you knew as Sir Digby
+Kemsley. How did you first become acquainted with him?"
+
+"I met him on a steamer on the Lake of Garda this last summer," was my
+reply. "I was staying at Riva, the little town at the north end of the
+lake, over the Austrian frontier, and one day took the steamer down to
+Gardone, in Italy. We sat next each other at lunch on board, and, owing
+to a chance conversation, became friends."
+
+"What did he tell you?"
+
+"Well, only that he was travelling for his health. He mentioned that he
+had been a great deal in South America, and was then over in Europe for
+a holiday. Indeed, on the first day we met, he did not even mention his
+name, and I quite forgot to ask for it. In travelling one meets so many
+people who are only of brief passing interest. It was not until a week
+later, when I found him staying in the same hotel as myself, the Cavour,
+in Milan, I learnt from the hall-porter that he was Sir Digby Kemsley,
+the great engineer. We travelled to Florence together, and stayed at the
+Baglioni, but one morning when I came down I found a hurried note
+awaiting me. From the hall-porter I learned that a gentleman had arrived
+in the middle of the night, and Sir Digby, after an excited controversy,
+left with him for London. In the note he gave me his address in
+Harrington Gardens, and asked me not to fail to call on my return to
+town."
+
+"Curious to have a visitor in the middle of the night," remarked the
+detective reflectively.
+
+"I thought so at the time, but, knowing him to be a man of wide business
+interests, concluded that it was someone who had brought him an urgent
+message," I replied. "Well, the rest is quickly told. On my return home I
+sought him out, with the result that we became great friends."
+
+"You had no suspicion that he was an impostor?"
+
+"None whatever. He seemed well known in London," I replied. "Besides, if
+he was not the real Sir Digby, how is it possible that he could have so
+completely deceived his friends! Why, he has visited the offices of
+Colliers, the great railway contractors in Westminster--the firm who
+constructed the railway in Peru. I recollect calling there with him in a
+taxi one day."
+
+Edwards smiled.
+
+"He probably did that to impress you, sir," he replied. "They may have
+known him as somebody else. Or he simply went in and made an inquiry.
+He's evidently a very clever person."
+
+Personally, I could not see how my friend could possibly have posed as
+Sir Digby Kemsley if he were not, even though Edwards pointed out that
+the real Sir Digby had only been in London a fortnight for the past nine
+years.
+
+Still, on viewing the whole situation, I confess inclination towards the
+belief that my friend was, notwithstanding the allegations, the real Sir
+Digby.
+
+And yet those strange words of his, spoken in such confidence on the
+previous night, recurred to me. There was mystery somewhere--a far more
+obscure mystery even than what was apparent at that moment.
+
+"Tell me what is known concerning Sir Digby's death in Peru," I asked.
+
+"From the report furnished to us at the Yard it seems that one day last
+August, while the gentleman in question was riding upon a trolley on the
+Cerro de Pasco railway, the conveyance was accidentally overturned into a
+river, and he was badly injured in the spine. A friend of his, a somewhat
+mysterious Englishman named Cane, brought him down to the hospital at
+Lima, and after two months there, he becoming convalescent, was conveyed
+for fresh air to Huacho, on the sea. Here he lived with Cane in a small
+bungalow in a somewhat retired spot, until on one night in February last
+year something occurred--but exactly what, nobody is able to tell. Sir
+Digby was found by his Peruvian servant dead from snake-bite. Cane
+evinced the greatest distress and horror until, of a sudden, a second
+man-servant declared that he had heard his master cry out in terror as he
+lay helpless in his bed. He heard him shriek: 'You--you blackguard,
+Cane--take the thing away! Ah! God! You've--you've killed me!' Cane
+denied it, and proved that he was at a friend's house playing cards at
+the hour when the servant heard his master shout for help. Next day,
+however, he disappeared. Our Consul in Lima took up the matter, and in
+due course a full report of the affair was forwarded to the Yard,
+together with a very detailed description of the man wanted. This we sent
+around the world, but up to to-day without result."
+
+"Then the man Cane was apparently responsible for the death of the
+invalid," I remarked.
+
+"I think so--without a doubt."
+
+"But who was the invalid? Was he the real Sir Digby?"
+
+"Aye, that's the question," said Edwards, thrusting his hands into his
+trouser pockets. For some moments we both sat staring blankly into the
+fire.
+
+"Among the papers sent to us," he said very slowly at last, "was this.
+Read it, and tell me your opinion."
+
+And then he took from his pocket-book and handed me a half-sheet of thin
+foreign notepaper, which had been closely written upon on both sides. It
+was apparently a sheet from a letter, for there was no beginning and no
+ending.
+
+The handwriting was educated, though small and crabbed, and the ink brown
+and half-faded, perhaps because of its exposure to a tropical climate. It
+had been written by a man, without a doubt.
+
+"That," said Edwards, "was found in a pocket-book belonging to Cane,
+which, in his hasty flight, he apparently forgot. According to our report
+the wallet was found concealed beneath the mattress of his bed, as though
+he feared lest anyone should read and learn what it contained. Read it,
+and tell me what you think."
+
+I took the sheet of thin paper in my fingers, and, crossing the room to a
+brighter light, managed to decipher the writing as follows:
+
+    "... At fourteen paces from where this wall rises from the lawn
+    stands the ever-plashing fountain. The basin is circular, while
+    around runs a paved path, hemmed in by smoke-blackened laurels
+    and cut off from the public way by iron railings. The water
+    falls with pleasant cadence into a small basin set upon a base
+    of moss-grown rockwork. Looking south one meets a vista of green
+    grass, of never-ceasing London traffic, and one tall distant
+    factory chimney away in the grey haze, while around the fountain
+    are four stunted trees. On the right stretches a strip of
+    garden, in spring green and gay with bulbs which bloom and die
+    unnoticed by the hundreds upon hundreds of London's workers who
+    pass and re-pass daily in their mad, reckless hurry to earn the
+    wherewithal to live.
+
+    "Halt upon the gravel at that spot on the twenty-third of the
+    month punctually at noon, and she will pass wearing the yellow
+    flower. It is the only trysting-place. She has kept it
+    religiously for one whole year without--alas!--effecting a
+    meeting. Go there--tell her that I still live, shake her hand in
+    greeting and assure her that I will come there as soon as ever I
+    am given strength so to do.
+
+    "I have been at that spot once only, yet every detail of its
+    appearance is impressed indelibly upon my memory. Alas! that I
+    do not know its name. Search and you will assuredly find it--and
+    you will see her. You will speak, and give her courage."
+
+I bit my lip.
+
+A sudden thought illuminated my mind.
+
+The yellow flower!
+
+Was not the mysterious woman whom I was to meet on the night of the
+fourteenth also to wear a yellow flower--the mimosa!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+"DEAR OLD DIG."
+
+
+I told Edwards nothing of Sir Digby's curious request, of his strange
+confidences, or of the mysterious letter to "E. P. K.", which now reposed
+in a locked drawer in my writing-table.
+
+My friend, be he impostor or not, had always treated me strictly
+honourably and well. Therefore, I did not intend to betray him, although
+he might be a fugitive hunted by the police.
+
+Yet was he a fugitive? Did not his words to me and his marvellous
+disguise prior to the tragedy imply an intention to disappear?
+
+The enigma was indeed beyond solution.
+
+At seven o'clock my visitor, finding necessity to revisit Harrington
+Gardens, I eagerly accompanied him.
+
+There is a briskness and brightness in Piccadilly at seven o'clock on a
+clear, cold, winter's night unequalled in any thoroughfare in the world.
+On the pavements and in the motor-buses are thousands of London's workers
+hurrying to their homes in western suburbs, mostly the female employees
+of the hundreds of shops and work-rooms which supply the world's
+fashions--for, after all, London has now ousted Paris as the centre of
+the feminine mode--the shops are still gaily lit, the club windows have
+not yet drawn their blinds, and as motors and taxis flash past eastward,
+one catches glimpses of pretty women in gay evening gowns, accompanied by
+their male escorts on pleasure bent: the restaurant, the theatre, and the
+supper, until the unwelcome cry--that cry which resounds at half-past
+twelve from end to end of Greater London, "Time, please, ladies and
+gentlemen. Time!"--the pharisaical decree that further harmless merriment
+is forbidden. How the foreigner laughs at our childish obedience to the
+decree of the killjoys. And well he may, especially when we know full
+well that while the good people of the middle class are forced to return
+to the dulness of their particular suburb, the people of the class above
+them can sneak in by back doors of unsuspected places, and indulge in
+drinking, gambling, and dancing till daylight. Truly the middle-class
+Londoner is a meek, obedient person. One day, however, he may revolt.
+
+Piccadilly was particularly bright and gay that night, as, passing the
+end of St. James's Street, we sped forward in the taxi towards Brompton
+Road and past the Natural History Museum to Gloucester Road.
+
+On our arrival the door of the flat was opened by a constable without a
+helmet. Recognising the famous inspector, he saluted.
+
+The body of the unknown girl had been removed to the mortuary for a
+post-mortem examination, but nothing else had been moved, and two
+officers of the C.I.D. were busy making examination for finger-prints.
+
+I allowed them to take mine for comparison, but some they found upon the
+mahogany table and upon the back of a chair were undoubtedly those of
+the victim herself.
+
+The small glass-topped specimen-table still lay where it had been
+overturned, and the fragments of the two green-glass flower-vases were
+strewn upon the carpet with the drooping red anemones themselves.
+
+Regarding the overturned table the two detectives held that it had
+separated the assassin from his victim; that the girl had been chased
+around it several times before her assailant had thrown it down, suddenly
+sprung upon her, and delivered the fatal blow, full in her chest.
+
+"We've thoroughly examined it for finger-prints, sir," the elder of the
+two officers explained to my companion. "Both on the glass top and on the
+mahogany edge there are a number of prints of the victim herself, as well
+as a number made by another hand."
+
+"A man's?" I asked.
+
+"No; curiously enough, it seems to be a woman's," was the reply.
+
+"A woman's!"
+
+I thought of that sweet perfume, and of the person who had lurked in the
+shadow of the stairs!
+
+"That's interesting," remarked Edwards. "They may be those of the woman
+who wore green combs in her hair, or else of the porter's wife."
+
+"The owner's man-servant is away abroad on business for his master, we've
+found out," answered the man addressed. "So of late the porter's wife,
+who lives in the basement of the next house, has been in the habit of
+coming in every day and tidying up the room. We took her prints this
+morning, and have found quite a lot about the place. No," added the man
+emphatically, "the finger-prints on that little table yonder are not
+those of the porter's wife, but of another woman who's been here
+recently. We only find them upon the door-handle and on the edge of the
+writing-table, against which the woman must have leaned. We'll have them
+photographed to-morrow."
+
+The men then showed us the marks in question--distinct impressions of
+small finger-tips, which they had rendered vivid and undeniable by the
+application of a finely-powdered chalk of a pale green colour.
+
+Apparently the two experts had devoted the whole day to the search for
+finger-print clues, and they had established the fact that two women had
+been there--the victim and another.
+
+Who was she?
+
+The investigation of the papers in my friend's writing-table had not yet
+been made. Inspector Edwards had telephoned earlier in the day, stating
+that he would himself go through them.
+
+Therefore, exercising every care not to obliterate the three finger-marks
+upon the edge of the table, the officers proceeded to break open drawer
+after drawer and methodically examine the contents while I looked on.
+
+The work was exciting. At any moment we might discover something which
+would throw light upon the tragedy, the grim evidence of which remained
+in that dark, still damp stain upon the carpet--the life-blood of the
+unknown victim.
+
+Already the face of the dead girl had been photographed, and would,
+before morning, be circulated everywhere in an endeavour to secure
+identification.
+
+I had learnt from Edwards that before noon that morning, upon the
+notice-board outside Bow Street Police Station, there had been posted one
+of those pale, buff-coloured bills headed in great, bold capitals: "Body
+found," in which the description had been filled in by a clerkish hand,
+and at the bottom a statement that the corpse was lying at the Kensington
+Mortuary awaiting identification.
+
+That she was a lady seemed established by her dress, her well-kept hands,
+innocent of manual labour, by the costly rings and bracelet she was
+wearing, and the fact that, in the pocket of her coat was found her purse
+containing eleven pounds in gold and some silver.
+
+Sir Digby's papers promised to be extremely interesting, as we cleared
+the books off a side-table and sat down to carefully investigate them.
+
+The writing-table was a pedestal one, with a centre drawer and four
+drawers on either side. The first drawer burst open was the top one on
+the left, and from it Edwards drew two bundles of letters, each secured
+by faded pink tape.
+
+These bundles he handed to me, saying--
+
+"See what you think of these, Mr. Royle!"
+
+One after another I opened them. They were all in the same sprawly
+handwriting of a woman--a woman who simply signed herself "Mittie."
+
+They were love-letters written in the long ago, many commencing "My
+darling," or "Dearest," and some with "Dear old Dig."
+
+Though it seemed mean of me to peer into the closed chapter of my
+friend's history, I quickly found myself absorbed in them. They were the
+passionate outpourings of a brave but overburdened heart. Most of them
+were dated from hotels in the South of England and in Ireland, and were
+apparently written at the end of the eighties. But as no envelopes had
+been preserved they gave no clue to where the addressee had been at the
+time.
+
+Nearly all were on foreign notepaper, so we agreed that he must have been
+abroad.
+
+As I read, it became apparent that the writer and the addressee had been
+deeply in love with one another, but the lady's parents had forbidden
+their marriage; and as, alas! in so many like cases, she had been induced
+to make an odious but wealthier marriage. The man's name was Francis.
+
+    "He is, alas! just the same," she wrote in one letter dated
+    "Mount Ephraim Hotel, at Tunbridge Wells, Thursday": "We have
+    nothing in common. He only thinks of his dividends, his stocks
+    and shares, and his business in the City always. I am simply an
+    ornament of his life, a woman who acts as his hostess and
+    relieves him of much trouble in social anxieties. If father had
+    not owed him seventeen thousand pounds he would, I feel certain,
+    never have allowed me to marry him. But I paid my father's debt
+    with my happiness, with my very life. And you, dear old Dig, are
+    the only person who knows the secret of my broken heart. You
+    will be home in London seven weeks from to-day. I will meet you
+    at the old place at three o'clock on the first of October, for I
+    have much--so very much--to tell you. Father knows now how I
+    hate this dull, impossible life of mine, and how dearly I love
+    your own kind self. I told him so to-day, and he pities me. I
+    hope you will get this letter before you leave, but I shall
+    watch the movements of your ship, and I shall meet you on the
+    first of October. Till then adieu.--Ever your own MITTIE."
+
+At the old place! Where was it, I wondered? At what spot had the secret
+meeting been effected between the man who had returned from abroad and
+the woman who loved him so well, though she had been forced to become the
+wife of another.
+
+That meeting had taken place more than twenty years ago. What had been
+its result was shown in the next letter I opened.
+
+Written from the Queen's Hotel at Hastings on the fourth of October, the
+unfortunate "Mittie," who seemed to spend her life travelling on the
+South Coast, penned the following in a thin, uncertain hand:--
+
+    "Our meeting was a mistake, Dig, a grave mistake. We were
+    watched by somebody in the employ of Francis. When I returned to
+    Tunbridge Wells he taxed me with having met you, described our
+    trysting-place--the fountain--and how we had walked and walked
+    until, becoming too tired, we had entered that quiet little
+    restaurant to dine. He has misjudged me horribly. The sneak who
+    watched us must have lied to him, or he would never have spoken
+    to me as he did--he would not have insulted me. That night I
+    left him, and am here alone. Do not come near me, do not reply
+    to this. It might make matters worse. Though we are parted, Dig,
+    you know I love you and only you--_you_! Still your own MITTIE."
+
+I sat staring at that half-faded letter, taking no heed of what Edwards
+was saying.
+
+The fountain! They had met at the fountain, and had been seen!
+
+Could that spot be the same as mentioned in the mysterious letter left
+behind by the fugitive Cane after the sudden death of the Englishman away
+in far-off Peru?
+
+Did someone, after all the lapse of years, go there on every twenty-third
+of the month at noon wearing a yellow flower, to wait for a person who,
+alas! never came?
+
+The thought filled me with romance, even though we were at that moment
+investigating a very remarkable tragedy. Yet surely in no city in this
+world is there so much romance, so much pathos, such whole-hearted love
+and affection, or such deep and deadly hatred as in our great palpitating
+metropolis, where secret assassinations are of daily occurrence, and
+where the most unpardonable sin is that of being found out.
+
+"What's that you've got hold of?" Edwards asked me, as he crossed to the
+table and bent over me.
+
+I started.
+
+Then, recovering myself--for I had no desire that he should
+know--replied, quite coolly:
+
+"Oh, only a few old letters--written long ago, in the eighties."
+
+"Ah! Ancient history, eh?"
+
+"Yes," I replied, packing them together and retying them with the soiled,
+pink tape. "But have you discovered anything?"
+
+"Well," he replied with a self-conscious smile, "I've found a letter here
+which rather alters my theory," and I saw that he held a piece of grey
+notepaper in his hand. "Here is a note addressed to him as long ago as
+1900 in the name of Sir Digby Kemsley! Perhaps, after all, the man who
+died so mysteriously in Peru was an impostor, and the owner of this place
+was the real Sir Digby!"
+
+"Exactly my own theory," I declared.
+
+"But that fountain!" he remarked. "The fountain mentioned in the letter
+left behind by the man Cane. We must take immediate steps to identify it,
+and it must be watched on the twenty-third for the coming of the woman
+who wears a yellow flower. When we find her, we shall be able to discover
+something very interesting, Mr. Royle. Don't you agree?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+"TIME WILL PROVE."
+
+
+These are truly the fevered days of journalistic enterprise the world
+over.
+
+There are no smarter journalists than those of Fleet Street, and none,
+not even in New York, with scent more keen for sensational news. "The
+day's story" is the first thought in every newspaper office, and surely
+no story would have been a greater "scoop" for any journal than the
+curious facts which I have related in the foregoing pages.
+
+But even though the gentlemen of the Press are ubiquitous, many a curious
+happening, and many a remarkable coroner's inquiry, often remain
+unreported.
+
+And so in this case. When, on the following morning, the coroner for the
+borough of Kensington held his inquiry in the little court off the High
+Street, no reporter was present, and only half a dozen idlers were seated
+in the back of the gloomy room.
+
+When the jury had taken their seats after viewing the remains, according
+to custom, the police inspector reported to the coroner that the body
+remained unidentified, though the description had been telegraphed
+everywhere.
+
+"I might add, sir," went on the inspector, "that there is strong belief
+that the young lady may be a foreigner. Upon the tab of her coat she was
+wearing was the name of a costumier: 'Sartori, Via Roma.' Only the name
+of the street, and not the town is given. But it must be somewhere in
+Italy. We are in communication with the Italian police with a view to
+ascertaining the name of the town, and hope thus to identify the
+deceased."
+
+"Very well!" said the coroner, a shrewd, middle-aged, clean-shaven man in
+gold pince-nez. "Let us have the evidence," and he arranged his papers
+with business-like exactitude.
+
+The procedure differed in no way from that in any other coroner's court
+in the kingdom, the relation of dry details by matter-of-fact persons
+spoken slowly in order that they might be carefully taken down.
+
+The scene was, indeed, a gloomy one, for the morning was dark, and the
+place was lit by electric light. The jury--twelve honest householders of
+Kensington--appeared from the outset eager to get back to their daily
+avocations. They were unaware of the curious enigma about to be presented
+to them.
+
+Not until I began to give my evidence did they appear to evince any
+curiosity regarding the case. But presently, when I had related my
+midnight interview with my friend, who was now a fugitive, the foreman
+put to me several questions.
+
+"You say that after your return from your visit from this man, Sir Digby
+Kemsley, he rang you up on the telephone?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What did he say?" inquired the foreman, a thin, white-headed man whose
+social standing was no doubt slightly above that of his fellow jurymen.
+
+"He asked me to return to him at once," was my reply.
+
+"But this appears extraordinary----"
+
+"We are not here to criticise the evidence, sir!" interrupted the coroner
+sharply. "We are only here to decide how the deceased came by her
+death--by accident, or by violence. Have you any doubt?"
+
+The foreman replied in the negative, and refrained from further
+cross-examining me.
+
+The coroner himself, however, put one or two pointed questions. He asked
+me whether I believed that it had actually been Sir Digby speaking on the
+second occasion, when I had been rung up, to which I replied:
+
+"At first, the voice sounded unfamiliar."
+
+"At first! Did you recognise it afterwards?"
+
+I paused for a few seconds, and then was compelled to admit that I had
+not been entirely certain.
+
+"Voices are, of course, often distorted by the telephone," remarked the
+coroner. "But in this case you may have believed the voice to have been
+your friend's because he spoke of things which you had been discussing in
+private only half-an-hour before. It may have been the voice of a
+stranger."
+
+"That is my own opinion, sir," I replied.
+
+"Ah!" he ejaculated, "and I entirely agree with you, for if your friend
+had contemplated the crime of murder he would scarcely have telephoned to
+you to come back. He would be most anxious to get the longest start he
+could before the raising of any hue and cry."
+
+This remark further aroused the curiosity of the hitherto apathetic jury,
+who sat and listened intently to the medical evidence which followed.
+
+The result of the doctor's examination was quickly told, and not of great
+interest. He had been called by the police and found the young woman
+dying from a deep wound under the breast, which had penetrated to the
+heart, the result of a savage blow with some long, thin, and very sharp
+instrument. The girl was not dead when he first saw her, but she expired
+about ten minutes afterwards.
+
+"I should think that the weapon used was a knife with a very sharp,
+triangular blade judging from the wound," the spruce-looking doctor
+explained. "The police, however, have failed to discover it."
+
+The words of the witness held me dumbfounded.
+
+"Have you ever met with knives with triangular blades, doctor?" inquired
+the coroner.
+
+"Oh, yes!" was the reply. "One sees them in collections of mediaeval arms.
+In ancient days they were carried almost universally in Southern
+Europe--the blade about nine inches long, and sometimes perforated. Along
+the blade, grease impregnated with mineral poison was placed, so that, on
+striking, some of the grease would remain in the wound. This form of
+knife was most deadly, and in Italy it was known as a misericordia."
+
+I sat there listening with open mouth. Why? Because I knew where one of
+those curious knives had been--one with a carved handle of cracked,
+yellow ivory. I had often taken it up and looked at the coat of arms
+carved upon the ivory--the shield with the six balls of the princely
+house of the Medici.
+
+"And in your opinion, doctor, the deceased came by her death from a blow
+from such a weapon as you describe?" the coroner was asking.
+
+"That is my firm opinion. The wound penetrated to the heart, and death
+was probably almost instantaneous."
+
+"Would she utter a cry?"
+
+"I think she would."
+
+"And yet no one seems to have heard any noise!" remarked the coroner. "Is
+that so?" he asked, turning to the police inspector.
+
+"We have no evidence of any cry being heard," replied the officer. "I
+purposely asked the other tenants of the flats above and below. But they
+heard no unusual sound."
+
+One of the detective-sergeants was then called; Inspector Edwards, though
+present, being purposely omitted. In reply to the coroner, he described
+the finding of the body, its examination, and the investigation which
+ensued.
+
+"I need not ask you if you have any clue to the assassin," said the
+coroner, when he had concluded writing down the depositions. "I presume
+you are actively prosecuting inquiries?"
+
+"Yes, sir," was the brief response.
+
+"I think, gentlemen," the coroner said, turning at last to the jury,
+"that we can go no further with this inquiry to-day. We must leave it for
+the police to investigate, and if we adjourn, let us say for a fortnight,
+we may then, I hope, have evidence of identification before us. The case
+certainly presents a number of curious features, not the least being the
+fact that the owner of the flat has mysteriously fled. When he is found
+he will, no doubt, throw some light upon the puzzling affair. I have to
+thank you for your attendance to-day, gentlemen," he added, addressing
+the dozen respectable householders, "and ask you to be present again this
+day fortnight--at noon."
+
+There was evident dissatisfaction among the jury, as there is always when
+a coroner's inquest is ever adjourned.
+
+It is certainly the reverse of pleasant to be compelled to keep an
+appointment which may mean considerable out-of-pocket expense and much
+personal inconvenience.
+
+One juror, indeed, raised an objection, as he had to go to do business in
+Scotland. Whereupon the coroner, as he rose, expressed his regret but
+declared himself unable to assist him. It was, he remarked, his duty as a
+citizen to assist in this inquiry, and to arrive at a verdict.
+
+After that the court rose, and every one broke up into small groups to
+discuss the strange affair of which the Press were at present in
+ignorance.
+
+Edwards had crossed the room and was speaking to me. But I heard him not.
+I was thinking of that triangular-bladed weapon--the "misericordia" of
+the middle ages--so frequently used for stealthy knife-thrusts.
+
+"Coming?" he asked at last. This aroused me to a sense of my
+surroundings, and I followed him blindly out into the afternoon shopping
+bustle of High Street, Kensington.
+
+Outside the Underground Station were the flower-sellers. Some were
+offering that tribute which the Riviera never fails to send to us
+Londoners in spring--sprigs of mimosa: the yellow flower which would be
+worn by the mysterious "E. P. K.," the written message to whom reposed in
+my writing-table at home.
+
+Personally, I am not a man of mystery, but just an ordinary London
+business man, differing in no way to thousands of others who are at the
+head of prosperous commercial concerns. London with all its garish
+glitter, its moods of dulness and of gaiety, its petrol-smelling streets,
+its farces of passing life, and its hard and bitter dramas always
+appealed to me. It was my home, the atmosphere in which I had been born
+and bred, nay, my very existence. I loved London and was ever true to the
+city of my birth, even though its climate might be derided, and Paris
+claimed as the one city in which to find the acme of comfort and
+enjoyment.
+
+I had not sought mystery--far from it. It had been thrust upon me, and
+now, as we went along the High Street in Kensington, towards the
+police-station, I found myself a sudden but important factor in a stern
+chase--a man-hunt--such as London had seldom known, for Edwards was
+saying to me:
+
+"At all hazards we must find your friend Kemsley, and you, Mr. Royle,
+must help us. You know him, and can identify him. There are grave
+suspicions against him, and these must be cleared up in view of the
+mysterious tragedy in Harrington Gardens."
+
+"You surely don't expect me to denounce my friend!" I cried.
+
+"It is not a question of denouncing him. His own actions have rendered
+the truth patent to every one. The girl was brutally killed, and he
+disappeared. Therefore he must be found," Edwards said.
+
+"But who was it who telephoned to me, do you think?" I asked.
+
+"Himself, perhaps. He was full of inventiveness, and he may have adopted
+that course hoping, when the time came, to prove an alibi. Who knows?"
+asked the famous inspector.
+
+"Look here!" I said as we crossed the threshold of the police-station, "I
+don't believe Sir Digby was either an impostor or an assassin."
+
+"Time will prove, Mr. Royle," he laughed with an incredulous air. "A man
+don't take all these precautions before disappearing unless he has a
+deeper motive. Your friend evidently knew of the lady's impending visit.
+Indeed, how could she have entered the flat had he not admitted her?"
+
+"She might have had a key," I hazarded.
+
+"Might--but not very likely," he said. "No, my firm conviction is that
+the man you know as Sir Digby Kemsley struck the fatal blow, and took the
+knife away with him."
+
+I shrugged my shoulders, but did not reply.
+
+Inside the station, we passed into the long room devoted to the officers
+of the Criminal Investigation Department attached to the division, and
+there met two sergeants who had given evidence.
+
+I was shown the photograph of the dead unknown, calm, and even pretty,
+just as I had seen her lying stretched in Digby's room.
+
+"The medical evidence was curious, Mr. Royle, wasn't it?" Edwards
+remarked. "That triangular knife ought not to be very difficult to trace.
+There surely are not many of them about."
+
+"No," I replied faintly, for the recollection of one which I had seen
+only a few days prior to the tragic occurrence--the one with the arms of
+the Medici carved upon its hilt, arose vividly before me.
+
+To me, alas! the awful truth was now plain.
+
+My suspicion regarding the culprit had, by the doctor's evidence, become
+entirely confirmed.
+
+I set my jaws hard in agony of mind. What was a mystery of London was to
+me no longer a mystery!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE PIECE OF CONVICTION.
+
+
+The morning of the tenth of January was one of those of gloom and
+darkness which are, on occasions, the blots upon London's reputation.
+
+There seemed no fog, only a heavy, threatening cloud of night fell
+suddenly upon the city, and at three o'clock it might have been midnight.
+Streets, shops, and offices were lit everywhere, and buses and taxis
+compelled to light up, while in the atmosphere was a sulphurous odour
+with a black deposit which caused the eyes to smart and the lungs to
+irritate.
+
+Londoners know those periods of unpleasant darkness only too well.
+
+I was sitting in my room in Albemarle Street, watching Haines, who was
+cleaning a piece of old silver I had bought at an auction on the previous
+day. The collecting of old silver is, I may say, my hobby, and the piece
+was a very fine old Italian reliquary, about ten inches in height, with
+the Sicilian mark of the seventeenth century.
+
+Haines, under my tuition, had become an expert and careful cleaner of
+silver, and I was watching and exhorting him to exercise the greatest
+care, as the ornamentation was thin, and some of the scrollwork around
+the top extremely fragile. It had, according to the inscription at its
+base, contained a bone of a certain saint--a local saint of Palermo it
+seemed--but the relic had disappeared long ago. Yet the silver case
+which, for centuries, had stood upon an altar somewhere, was a really
+exquisite piece of the silversmith's art.
+
+Suddenly the telephone-bell rang, and on answering it I heard Phrida's
+voice asking--
+
+"I say, Teddy, is that you? Why haven't you been over since Thursday?"
+
+I started, recollecting that I had not been to Cromwell Road since the
+afternoon of the inquest--three days ago.
+
+"Dear, do forgive me," I craved. "I--I've been so horribly busy. Had to
+be at the works each day."
+
+"But you might have been over in the evening," she responded in a tone of
+complaint. "You remember you promised to take me to the St. James's last
+night, and I expected you."
+
+"Oh, dearest, I'm so sorry," I said. "But I've been awfully worried, you
+know. Do forgive me!"
+
+"Yes, I know!" she answered. "Well, I'll forgive you if you'll run over
+now and take me to tea at the Leslies. I've ordered the car for four
+o'clock. Will that suit you?"
+
+The Leslies! They were snobbish folk with whom I had but little in
+common. Yet what could I do but agree?
+
+And then my well-beloved rang off.
+
+When I got down to Cromwell Road just before four o'clock, the darkness
+had not lifted.
+
+My feelings as I passed along the big, old-fashioned hall and up the
+thickly-carpeted stairs to the drawing-room were mixed ones of doubt,
+and yet of deep affection.
+
+Ah, I loved Phrida--loved her better than my own life--and yet----?
+
+Fresh in my memory was the doctor's evidence that the crime in Harrington
+Gardens had been committed with a thin, triangular knife--a knife such as
+that I had often seen lying upon the old-fashioned, walnut what-not in
+the corner of the room I was just about to enter. I had known it lying in
+the same place for years.
+
+Was it still there?
+
+Purposely, because I felt that it could no longer be there, I had
+refrained from calling upon my love, and now, when I paused and turned
+the handle of the drawing-room door, I hardly dared to cast my eyes upon
+that antiquated piece of furniture.
+
+Phrida, who was sitting with her hat and coat already on, jumped up gaily
+to meet me.
+
+"Oh, you really are prompt, Teddy!" she cried with a flush of pleasure.
+
+Then, as I bent over her mother's hand, the latter said--
+
+"You're quite a stranger, Mr. Royle. I expect you have been very upset
+over the curious disappearance of your friend. We've searched the papers
+every day, but could find nothing whatever about it."
+
+Phrida had turned towards the fire, her pretty head bent as she buttoned
+her glove.
+
+"No," I replied. "Up to the present the newspapers are in complete
+ignorance of the affair. But no doubt they'll learn all about it before
+long."
+
+Then, crossing the room to pick up a magazine lying upon a chair, I
+halted against the old walnut what-not.
+
+Yes, the mediaeval poignard was still lying there, just as I had always
+seen it!
+
+Had it been used, and afterwards replaced?
+
+I scarcely dared to glance at it, lest I should betray any unusual
+interest. I felt that Phrida's eyes were watching me, that she suspected
+my knowledge.
+
+I took up the magazine idly, glanced at it, and, replacing it, returned
+to her side.
+
+"Well," she asked, "are you ready?"
+
+And then together we descended to the car.
+
+All the way up to Abbey Road she hardly spoke. She seemed unusually pale
+and haggard. I asked her what was the matter, but she only replied in a
+faint, unnatural voice--
+
+"Matter? Why nothing--nothing, I assure you, Teddy!"
+
+I did not reply. I gazed upon the pretty, pale-faced figure at my side in
+wonder and yet in fear. I loved her--ah! I loved her well and truly, with
+all my soul. Yet was it possible that by means of that knife lying there
+so openly in that West-End drawing-room a woman's life had been
+treacherously taken.
+
+Had my friend Digby, the fugitive, actually committed the crime?
+
+When I put the whole matter clearly and with common-sense before myself,
+I was bound to admit that I had a strong belief of his innocence.
+
+What would those finger-prints reveal?
+
+The thought held me breathless. Yes, to satisfy myself I would
+surreptitiously secure finger-prints of my well-beloved and then in
+secret compare them with those found in Sir Digby's rooms.
+
+But how? I was reflecting as the car passed by Apsley House and into the
+Park on its way to St. John's Wood.
+
+Was I acting honestly? I doubted her, I quite admit. Yet I felt that if I
+took some object--a glass, or something with a polished surface--that she
+had touched, and submitted it to examination, I would be acting as a
+sneak.
+
+The idea was repugnant to me. Yet with that horrible suspicion obsessing
+me I felt that I must do something in order to satisfy myself.
+
+What inane small talk I uttered in the Leslies' big, over-furnished
+drawing-room I know not. All I remember is that I sat with some insipid
+girl whose hair was flaxen and as colourless as her mind, sipping my tea
+while I listened to her silly chatter about a Cook's tour she had just
+taken through Holland and Belgium. The estimable Cook is, alas!
+responsible for much tea-table chatter among the fair sex.
+
+Our hostess was an obese, flashily-dressed, dogmatic lady, the wife of
+the chairman of a big drapery concern who, having married her eldest
+daughter to a purchased knighthood, fondly believed herself to be in
+society--thanks to the "paid paragraphs" in the social columns of certain
+morning newspapers. It is really wonderful what half-guineas will do
+towards social advancement in these days! For a guinea one's presence can
+be recorded at a dinner, or an at home, or one's departure from town can
+be notified to the world in general in a paragraph all to one's self--a
+paragraph which rubs shoulders with those concerning the highest in the
+land. The snobbery of the "social column" would really be amusing were it
+not so painfully apparent. A good press-agent will, for a fee, give one
+as much publicity and newspaper popularity as that enjoyed by a duke, and
+most amazing is it that such paragraphs are swallowed with keen avidity
+by Suburbia.
+
+The Leslies were an average specimen of the upper middle-class, who were
+struggling frantically to get into a good set. The old man was bald,
+pompous, and always wore gold pince-nez and a fancy waistcoat. He carried
+his shop manners into his drawing-room, retaining his habit of rubbing
+his hands in true shop-walker style when he wished to be polite to his
+guests.
+
+His wife was a loud-tongued and altogether impossible person, who, it was
+said, had once served behind the counter in a small shop in Cardiff, but
+who now regarded the poor workers in her husband's huge emporium as mere
+money-making machines.
+
+By dint of careful cultivation at bazaars and such-like charitable
+functions she had scraped acquaintance with a few women of title, to whom
+she referred in conversation as "dear Lady So and So, who said to me the
+other day," or "as my friend Lady Violet always says."
+
+She had buttonholed me at last, though I had endeavoured to escape her,
+and was standing before me like a pouter-pigeon pluming herself and
+endeavouring to be humorous at the expense of a very modest little
+married woman who had been her guest that afternoon and had just left
+after shaking my hand.
+
+Women of Mrs. Leslie's stamp are perhaps the most evil-tongued of all.
+They rise from obscurity, and finding wealth at their command, imagine
+that they can command obeisance and popularity. Woe betide other women
+who arouse their jealousy, for they will scandalise and blight the
+reputation of the purest of their sex in the suburban belief that the
+invention of scandal is the hallmark of smartness.
+
+At last I got rid of her, thanks to the arrival of an elegant young man,
+the younger son of a well-known peer, to whom, of course, she was at once
+all smiles, and, presently, I found myself out in the hall with Phrida. I
+breathed more freely when at last I passed into the keen air and entered
+the car.
+
+"Those people are impossible, dearest," I blurted out when the car had
+moved away from the door. "They are the most vulgar pair I know."
+
+"I quite agree," replied my well-beloved, pulling the fur rug over her
+knees. "But they are old friends of mother's, so I'm compelled to go and
+see them sometimes."
+
+"Ah!" I sighed. "I suppose the old draper will buy a knighthood at this
+year's sale for the King's Birthday, and then his fat wife will have a
+tin handle to her name."
+
+"Really, Teddy, you're simply awful," replied my companion. "If they
+heard you I wonder what they would say?"
+
+"I don't care," I replied frankly. "I only speak the truth. The
+Government sell their titles to anybody who cares to buy. Ah! I fear that
+few men who really deserve honour ever get it in these days. No man can
+become great unless he has the influence of money to back him. The
+biggest swindler who ever walked up Threadneedle Street can buy a
+peerage, always providing he is married and has no son. As old Leslie
+buys his calicoes, ribbons and women's frills, so he'll buy his title. He
+hasn't a son, so perhaps he'll fancy a peerage and become the Lord
+Bargain of Sale."
+
+Phrida laughed heartily at my biting sarcasm.
+
+Truth to tell, though I was uttering bitter sentiments, my thoughts were
+running in a very different direction. I was wondering how I could best
+obtain the finger-prints of the woman who held my future so irrevocably
+in her hands.
+
+I had become determined to satisfy myself of my love's innocence--or--can
+I write the words?--of her guilt!
+
+And as I sat there beside her, my nostrils again became filled by that
+sweet subtle perfume--the perfume of tragedy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+FATAL FINGERS.
+
+
+Two days passed.
+
+Those finger-prints--impressions left by a woman--upon the glass-topped
+specimen table in Sir Digby's room and on the door handle, were puzzling
+the police as they puzzled me. They had already been proved not to be
+those of the porter's wife, the lines being lighter and more refined.
+
+According to Edwards, after the finger-prints had been photographed,
+search had been made in the archives at Scotland Yard, but no record
+could be found that they were those of any person previously convicted.
+
+Were they imprints of the hand of my well-beloved?
+
+I held my breath each time that black and terrible suspicion filled my
+mind. I tried to put them aside, but, like a nightmare, they would recur
+to me hourly until I felt impelled to endeavour to satisfy myself as to
+her guilt or her innocence.
+
+I loved her. Yes, passionately and truly. Yet, somehow, I could not
+prevent this ever-recurring suspicion to fill my mind. There were so many
+small points to be elucidated--the jingle of the golden bangles, and
+especially the perfume, which each time I entered her presence recalled
+to me all the strange and unaccountable happenings of that fatal night.
+
+Again, who was the poor, unidentified victim--the pale-faced, pretty
+young woman who had visited Digby clandestinely, and gone to her death?
+
+Up to the present the police notices circulated throughout the country
+had failed to establish who she was. Yet, if she were a foreigner, as
+seemed so likely, identification might be extremely difficult; indeed,
+she might ever remain a mystery.
+
+It was nearly ten o'clock at night when I called at Cromwell Road, for I
+had excused myself for not coming earlier, having an object in view.
+
+I found Phrida in the library, sweet and attractive in a pale blue gown
+cut slightly _decolletee_. She and her mother had been out to dinner
+somewhere in Holland Park, and had only just returned.
+
+Mrs. Shand drew an armchair for me to the fire, and we all three sat down
+to chat in the cosiness of the sombre little book-lined den. Bain, the
+old butler, who had known me almost since childhood, placed the tantalus,
+a syphon and glasses near my elbow, and at Phrida's invitation I poured
+myself out a drink and lit a cigarette.
+
+"Come," I said, "you will have your usual lemonade"; and at my suggestion
+her mother ordered Bain to bring a syphon of that harmless beverage.
+
+My love reached forward for one of the glasses, whereupon I took one and,
+with a word of apology, declared that it was not quite clean.
+
+"Not clean!" exclaimed Mrs. Shand quickly.
+
+"There are a few smears upon it," I said, and adding "Excuse my
+handkerchief. It is quite clean," I took the silk handkerchief I carried
+with me purposely, and polished it with the air of a professional waiter.
+
+Both Phrida and her mother laughed.
+
+"Really, Mr. Royle, you are full of eccentricities," declared Mrs. Shand.
+"You always remind me of your poor father. He was most particular."
+
+"One cannot be too careful, or guard sufficiently against germs, you
+know," I said, handling the clean glass carefully and pouring out the
+lemonade from the syphon.
+
+Phrida took the glass from my hand, and laughing happily across its edge,
+drank. Her fingers were leaving tell-tale impressions upon its surface.
+And yet she was unconscious of my duplicity. Ah! yes, I hated myself for
+my double dealing. And yet so filled was I now by dark and breathless
+suspicion, that I found myself quite unable to resist an opportunity of
+establishing proof.
+
+I watched her as she, in all innocence, leaned back in the big saddle-bag
+chair holding her glass in her hand and now and then contemplating it.
+The impressions--impressions which could not lie--would be the means of
+exonerating her--or of condemning her.
+
+Those golden bangles upon her slim white wrist and that irritating
+perfume held me entranced. What did she know concerning that strange
+tragedy in Harrington Gardens. What, indeed, was the secret?
+
+My chief difficulty was to remain apparently indifferent. But to do so
+was indeed a task. I loved her, aye, with all my strength, and all my
+soul. Yet the black cloud which had fallen upon her was one of
+impenetrable mystery, and as I sat gazing upon her through the haze of my
+cigarette smoke, I fell to wondering, just as I had wondered during all
+those hours which had elapsed since I had scented that first whiff of
+Parfait d'Amour, with which her chiffons seemed impregnated.
+
+At last she put down her empty glass upon the bookshelf near her. Several
+books had been removed, leaving a vacant space.
+
+Mrs. Shand had already risen and bade me good-night; therefore, we were
+alone. So I rose from my chair and, bending over her, kissed her fondly
+upon the brow.
+
+No. I would believe her innocent. That white hand--the soft little hand I
+held in mine could never have taken a woman's life. I refused to believe
+it, and yet!
+
+Did she know more of Sir Digby Kemsley than she had admitted? Why had she
+gone to his flat at that hour, lurking upon the stairs until he should be
+alone, and, no doubt, in ignorance that I was his visitor?
+
+As I bent over her, stroking her soft hair with my hand, I tried to
+conjure up the scene which had taken place in Sir Digby's room--the
+tragedy which had caused my friend to flee and hide himself. Surely,
+something of a very terrible nature must have happened, or my
+friend--impostor or not--would have remained, faced the music, and told
+the truth.
+
+I knew Digby better than most men. The police had declared him to be an
+impostor; nevertheless, I still believed in him, even though he was now a
+fugitive. Edwards had laughed at my faith in the man who was my friend,
+but I felt within me a strong conviction that he was not so black as
+pigheaded officialdom had painted him.
+
+The Council of Seven at Scotland Yard might be a clever combination of
+expert brains, but they were not infallible, as had been proved so many
+times in the recent annals of London crime.
+
+Phrida had not referred to the tragedy, and I had not therefore mentioned
+it.
+
+My sole object at the moment was to obtain possession of the empty glass
+and carry it with me from the house.
+
+But how could I effect this without arousing her suspicion?
+
+She had risen and stood with her back to the blazing fire, her pretty
+lips parted in a sweet smile. We were discussing a play at which she had
+been on the previous evening, a comedy that had taken the town by storm.
+
+Her golden bangles jingled as she moved--that same light metallic sound I
+had heard in the darkness of the staircase at Harrington Gardens. My
+eager fingers itched to obtain possession of that glass which stood so
+tantalisingly within a couple of feet of my hand. By its means I could
+establish the truth.
+
+"Well, Teddy," my beloved said at last, as she glanced at the chiming
+clock upon the mantelshelf. "It's past eleven, so I suppose I must go to
+bed. Mallock is always in a bad temper if I keep her up after eleven."
+
+"I suppose that is only natural," I laughed. "She often waits hours and
+hours for you. That I know."
+
+"Yes," she sighed. "But Mallock is really a model maid. So much better
+than Rayne."
+
+Personally, I did not like the woman Mallock. She was a thin-nosed,
+angular person, who wore pince-nez, and was of a decidedly inquisitive
+disposition. But I, of course, had never shown any antagonism towards
+her; indeed, I considered it diplomatic to treat her with tact and
+consideration. She had been maid to the oldest daughter of a well-known
+and popular countess before entering Phrida's service, and I could well
+imagine that her principal topic of conversation in the servants' hall
+was the superiority of her late mistress, whose service she had left on
+her marriage to a wealthy peer.
+
+"I'm glad she is an improvement upon Rayne," I said, for want of
+something else to say, and, rising, I took her little hand and pressed it
+to my lips in farewell.
+
+When she had kissed me I said:
+
+"I'll just finish my cigarette, and I can let myself out."
+
+"Very well. But look in to-morrow, dear, won't you?" she replied, as I
+opened the door for her to pass. "Better still, I'll ring you up about
+three o'clock and see what you are doing. Oh! by the way, mother wants to
+remind you of your promise to dine with us on Wednesday night. I quite
+forgot. Of course you will--eight o'clock as usual."
+
+"Wednesday!" I exclaimed vaguely, recollecting the acceptance of Mrs.
+Shand's invitation about a week previously. "What date is that?"
+
+"Why, the fourteenth."
+
+"The fourteenth!" I echoed.
+
+"Yes, why? Really, you look quite scared, Freddy. What's the matter. Is
+anything terrible going to happen on that date?" she asked, looking at me
+with some concern.
+
+"Going to happen--why?" I asked, striving to calm myself.
+
+"Oh--well, because you look so horribly pale. When I told you the date
+you gave quite a jump!"
+
+"A jump? Did I?" I asked, striving to remain calm. "I didn't know, but,
+really, I'm filled with great disappointment. I'm so sorry, but it will
+be quite impossible for me to dine with you."
+
+"Another engagement?" she said in a rather irritated tone. "Going to some
+people whom you like better than us, of course. You might tell the truth,
+Teddy."
+
+"The truth is that I have a prior engagement," I said. "One that I cannot
+break. I have to fulfill faithfully a promise I gave to a very dear
+friend."
+
+"Couldn't you do it some other time?"
+
+"No," I answered. "Only on the evening of the fourteenth."
+
+"Then you can't come to us?" she asked with a pout.
+
+"I'll look in after," I promised. "But to dine is entirely out of the
+question."
+
+I saw that she was annoyed, but next moment her lips parted again in a
+pretty smile, and she said:
+
+"Very well, then. But remember, you will not be later than ten, will
+you?"
+
+"I promise not to be, dearest," I answered, and kissing her, she ascended
+to her room.
+
+The fourteenth! It was on that evening I had to carry out the promise
+made to Digby and meet the mysterious lady at the Piccadilly Circus Tube
+Station--the person whose initials were "E. P. K." and who would wear in
+her breast a spray of mimosa.
+
+I returned to the library, and for a second stood thinking deeply. Would
+I, by that romantic meeting, be placed in possession of some further fact
+which might throw light upon the mystery? Ah! would I, I wondered?
+
+The empty glass caught my eye, and I was about to cross and secure it
+when Bain suddenly entered. Seeing me, he drew back quickly, saying: "I
+beg pardon, sir. I thought you had gone. Will you take anything more,
+sir?"
+
+"No, not to-night, Bain," was my reply.
+
+Whereupon the old servant glanced around for the missing glass, and I saw
+with heart-sinking that he placed it upon the tray to carry it back to
+the servants' quarters.
+
+The link which I had been so careful in preparing was already vanishing
+from my gaze, when of a sudden I said:
+
+"I'll change my mind, Bain. I wonder if you have a lemon in the house?"
+
+"I'll go to the kitchen and see if cook has one, sir," replied the old
+man, who, placing down the tray, left to do my bidding.
+
+In an instant I sprang forward and seized the empty tumbler, handling it
+carefully. Swiftly, I tore a piece off the evening paper, and wrapping it
+around the glass, placed it in the pocket of my dinner jacket.
+
+Then, going into the hall, I put on my overcoat and hat, and awaited
+Bain's return.
+
+"I shan't want that lemon!" I cried to him as he came up from the lower
+regions. "Good-night, Bain!" and a few moments later I was in a taxi
+speeding towards Albemarle Street, with the evidence I wanted safe in my
+keeping.
+
+That finger-prints remained on the polished surface of the glass I knew
+full well--the prints of my beloved's fingers.
+
+But would they turn out to be the same as the fingers which had rested
+upon the glass-topped specimen-table in Digby's room?
+
+Opening the door with my latch-key, I dashed upstairs, eager to put my
+evidence to the proof by means of the finely-powdered green chalk I had
+already secured--the same as that used by the police.
+
+But on the threshold of my chambers Haines met me with a message--a
+message which caused me to halt breathless and staggered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+CONTAINS FURTHER EVIDENCE.
+
+
+"Sir Digby Kemsley was here an hour ago, sir. He couldn't wait!" Haines
+exclaimed, bringing himself to attention.
+
+"Sir Digby!" I gasped, starting. "Why, in heaven's name, didn't you ring
+me up at Mrs. Shand's?" I cried.
+
+"Because he wouldn't allow me, sir. He came to see you in strictest
+secrecy, sir. When I opened the door I didn't know him. He's shaved off
+his beard and moustache, and was dressed like a clergyman."
+
+"A clergyman!"
+
+"Yes, sir. He looked just like a parson. I wouldn't have known him in the
+street."
+
+"An excellent ruse!" I exclaimed. "Of course, Haines, you know
+that--well--that the police are looking for him--eh?"
+
+"Perfectly well, but you can trust me, sir. I'll say nothing. Sir Digby's
+a friend of yours."
+
+"Yes, a great friend, and I feel that he's falsely accused of that
+terrible affair which happened at his flat," I said. "Did he promise to
+call again?"
+
+"He scribbled this note for you," Haines said, taking up a letter from my
+blotting-pad.
+
+With trembling fingers I tore it open, and upon a sheet of my own
+notepaper read the hurriedly written words--
+
+    "Sorry you were out. Wanted to see you most urgently. Keep your
+    promise at Piccadilly Circus, and know nothing concerning me. My
+    movements are most uncertain, as something amazing has occurred
+    which prevents me making explanation. I will, however, send you
+    my address in secret as soon as I have one. I trust you, Teddy,
+    for you are my only friend.
+
+                                                          "Digby."
+
+I read the note several times, and gathered that he was in hourly fear of
+arrest. Every corner held for him a grave danger. Yet what could have
+occurred that was so amazing and which prevented him speaking the truth.
+
+That I had not been in when he called was truly unfortunate. But by the
+fact that he was in clerical attire I surmised that he was living in
+obscurity--perhaps somewhere in the suburbs. London is the safest city in
+the world in which to hide, unless, of course, creditors or plaintiffs
+make it necessary to seek peace "beyond the jurisdiction of the Court."
+
+Many a good man is driven to the latter course through no fault of his
+own, but by the inexorable demands of the Commissioners of Income Tax, or
+by undue pressure from antagonistic creditors. Every English colony on
+the Continent contains some who have fallen victims--good, honest
+Englishmen--who are dragging out the remainder of their lives in
+obscurity, men whose names are perhaps household words, but who conceal
+them beneath one assumed.
+
+Digby would probably join the throng of the exiled. So I could do naught
+else than wait for his promised message, even though I was frantic in my
+anxiety to see and to question him regarding the reason of the presence
+of my well-beloved at his flat on that fatal night.
+
+Imagine my bitter chagrin that I had not been present to receive him! It
+might be many months before I heard from him again, for his promise was
+surely very vague.
+
+Presently I took the glass very carefully from my pocket, unwrapped it
+from its paper, and locked it in a little cabinet in the corner of my
+room, until next morning I brought it forth, and placing it upon a
+newspaper powdered it well with the pale green chalk which revealed at
+once a number of finger-marks--mine, Bain's, and Phrida's.
+
+I am something of a photographer, as everybody is in these days of photo
+competitions. Therefore, I brought out my Kodak with its anastigmat
+lens,--a camera which I had carried for some years up and down Europe,
+and after considerable arrangement of the light, succeeded in taking a
+number of pictures. It occupied me all the morning, and even then I was
+not satisfied with the result. My films might, for aught I know, be
+hopelessly fogged.
+
+Therefore, with infinite care, I took the glass to a professional
+photographer I knew in Bond Street, and he also made a number of
+pictures, which were duly developed and enlarged some hours later, and
+showed the distinctive lines and curves of each finger-print.
+
+Not until the morning of the day following was I able to take these
+latter to Edwards, and then a great difficulty presented itself. How was
+I to explain how I had obtained the prints?
+
+I sat for an hour smoking cigarettes furiously and thinking deeply.
+
+At last a plan presented itself, and taking a taxi I went down to
+Scotland Yard, where I had no difficulty in obtaining an interview in his
+airy, barely-furnished business-like room.
+
+"Hulloa, Mr. Royle!" he exclaimed cheerily as I entered. "Sit down--well,
+do you know anything more of that mysterious friend of yours--eh?"
+
+I did not reply. Why should I lie? Instead, I said:
+
+"I've been doing some amateur detective work. Have you the photographs of
+those finger-prints found on the specimen-table in Sir Digby's room?"
+
+"Yes, of course," was his prompt reply, and going over to a cupboard he
+brought out a pile of papers concerning the case, and from it produced a
+number of photographic prints.
+
+My heart stood still when I saw them. Were either of them exactly similar
+to any of those I carried with me? I almost feared to allow comparison to
+be made.
+
+Edwards, noticing my hesitation, asked in what quarter my efforts had
+been directed.
+
+"I've been getting some finger-prints, that's all," I blurted forth, and
+from my pocket drew the large envelope containing the prints.
+
+The detective took them across to the window and regarded them very
+closely for some time, while I looked eagerly over his shoulder.
+
+The curves and lines were extremely puzzling to me, unaccustomed as I
+was to them. Edwards, too, remained in silent indecision.
+
+"We'll send them along to Inspector Tirrell in the Finger-print
+Department," my friend said at last. "He's an expert, and will tell at a
+glance if any marks are the same as ours."
+
+Then he rang a bell, and a constable, at his instructions, carried all
+the prints to the department in question.
+
+"Well, Mr. Royle," exclaimed the inspector when the door had closed; "how
+did you obtain those prints?"
+
+I was ready for his question, and a lie was at once glibly upon my lips.
+
+"Sir Digby, on the night of his disappearance, returned to me a small
+steel despatch box which he had borrowed some weeks before; therefore,
+after the affair, I examined it for finger-prints, with the result I have
+shown you," I said.
+
+"Ah! but whatever prints were upon it were there before the entrance of
+the victim to your friend's rooms," he exclaimed. "He gave it to you when
+you bade him good-night, I suppose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And you carried the box home with you?"
+
+"Yes," I repeated; in fear nevertheless, that my lie might in some way
+incriminate me. Yet how could I tell him of my suspicion of Phrida. That
+secret was mine--and mine alone, and, if necessary, I would carry it with
+me to the grave.
+
+Edwards was again silent for some minutes.
+
+"No, Mr. Royle, I can't see that your evidence helps us in the least. If
+there should be the same prints on your despatch box as we found upon the
+specimen-table, then what do they prove?--why, nothing. If the box had
+been in the room at the time of the tragedy, then it might have given us
+an important clue, because such an object would probably be touched by
+any malefactor or assassin. But----"
+
+"Ah!" I cried, interrupting. "Then you do not suspect Sir Digby, after
+all--eh?"
+
+"Pardon me, Mr. Royle, but I did not say that I held no suspicion," was
+his quiet answer. "Yet, if you wish to know the actual truth, I, at
+present, am without suspicion of anyone--except of that second woman, the
+mysterious woman whose finger-prints we have, and who was apparently in
+the room at the same time as the unidentified victim."
+
+"You suspect her, then?" I asked breathlessly.
+
+"Not without further proof," he replied, with a calm, irritating smile.
+"I never suspect unless I have good grounds for doing so. At present we
+have three clear finger-prints of a woman whom nobody saw enter or leave,
+just as nobody saw the victim enter. Your friend Sir Digby seems to have
+held a midnight reception of persons of mysterious character, and with
+tragic result."
+
+"I feel sure he is no assassin," I cried.
+
+"It may have been a drama of jealousy--who knows?" said Edwards, standing
+erect near the window and gazing across at me. "Your friend, in any case,
+did not care to remain and explain what happened. A girl--an unknown
+girl--was struck down and killed."
+
+"By whom, do you think?"
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle, the identity of the assassin is what we are endeavouring
+to discover," he replied gravely. "We must first find this man who has so
+successfully posed as Sir Digby Kemsley. He is a clever and elusive
+scoundrel, without a doubt. But his portrait is already circulated both
+here and on the Continent. The ports are all being watched, while I have
+five of the best men I can get engaged on persistent inquiry. He'll try
+to get abroad, no doubt. No doubt, also, he has a banking account
+somewhere, and through that we shall eventually trace him. Every man
+entrusts his banker with his address. He has to, in order to obtain
+money."
+
+"Unless he draws his money out in cash and then goes to a tourist agency
+and gets a letter of credit."
+
+"Ah, yes, that's often done," my friend admitted. "The tourist agencies
+are of greatest use to thieves and forgers. They take stolen notes,
+change them into foreign money, and before the numbers can be circulated
+are off across the Channel with their booty. If we look for stolen notes
+we are nearly certain to find them in the hands of a tourist agency or a
+money-changer."
+
+"Then you anticipate that you may find my friend Digby through his
+bankers?"
+
+"Perhaps," was his vague answer. "But as he is your friend, Mr. Royle, I
+perhaps ought not to tell you of the channels of information we are
+trying," he added, with a dry laugh.
+
+"Oh, I assure you I'm entirely ignorant of his whereabouts," I said. "If
+I knew, I should certainly advise him to come and see you."
+
+"Ah! you believe in his innocence, I see?"
+
+"I most certainly do!"
+
+"Well,--we shall see--we shall see," he said in that pessimistic tone
+which he so often adopted.
+
+"What are you doing about those letters--that letter which mentions the
+fountain?" I asked.
+
+"Nothing. I've dismissed those as private correspondence regarding some
+love episode of the long ago," he replied. "They form no clue, and are
+not worth following."
+
+At that moment the constable re-entered bearing the photographs.
+
+"Well, what does Inspector Tirrell say?" Edwards asked quickly of the
+man.
+
+"He has examined them under the glass, sir, and says that they are the
+same prints in both sets of photographs--the thumb and index-finger of a
+woman--probably a young and refined woman. He's written a memo there,
+sir."
+
+Edwards took it quickly, and after glancing at it, handed it to me to
+read.
+
+It was a mere scribbled line signed with the initials "W. H. T.," to the
+effect that the same prints appeared in both photographs, and concluded
+with the words "No record of this person is known in this department."
+
+I know I stood pale and breathless at the revelation--at the
+incontestable proof that my well-beloved had actually been present in
+Digby's room after my departure on that fatal night.
+
+Why?
+
+By dint of a great effort I succeeded in suppressing the flood of
+emotions which so nearly overcame me, and listened to Edwards as he
+remarked:
+
+"Well, after all, Mr. Royle, it doesn't carry us any further. Our one
+object is to discover the identity of the woman in question, and I think
+we can only do that from your absconding friend himself. If the marks are
+upon your despatch-box as you state, then the evidence it furnishes
+rather disproves the theory that the unknown woman was actually present
+at the time of the tragedy."
+
+I hardly know what words I uttered.
+
+I had successfully misled the great detective of crime, but as I rode
+along in the taxi back to my rooms, I was in a frenzy of despair, for I
+had proved beyond a shadow of doubt that Phrida was aware of what had
+occurred--that a black shadow of guilt lay upon her.
+
+The woman I had loved and trusted, she who was all the world to me, had
+deceived me, though she smiled upon me so sweetly. She, alas! held within
+her breast a guilty secret.
+
+Ah! in that hour of my bitterness and distress the sun of my life became
+eclipsed. Only before me was outspread a limitless grey sea of dark
+despair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+DESCRIBES THE YELLOW SIGN.
+
+
+The night of my mysterious tryst--the night of January the
+fourteenth--was dark, rainy, and unpleasant.
+
+That afternoon I had taken out the sealed letter addressed to "E. P. K."
+and turned it over thoughtfully in my hand.
+
+I recollected the words of the fugitive. He had said:
+
+"On the night of the fourteenth just at eight o'clock precisely, go to
+the Piccadilly Tube Station and stand at the first telephone box numbered
+four, on the Haymarket side, when a lady in black will approach you and
+ask news of me. In response you will give her this note. But there is a
+further condition. You may be watched and recognised. Therefore, be
+extremely careful that you are not followed on that day, and, above all,
+adopt some effective disguise. Go there dressed as a working man, I would
+suggest."
+
+Very strange was that request of his. It filled me with eager curiosity.
+What should I learn from the mysterious woman in black who was to come to
+me for a message from my fugitive friend.
+
+Had he already contemplated flight when he had addressed the note to her
+and made the appointment, I wondered.
+
+If so, the crime at Harrington Gardens must have been premeditated.
+
+I recollected, too, those strange, prophetic words which my friend had
+afterwards uttered, namely:
+
+"I want you to give me your promise, Royle. I ask you to make a solemn
+vow to me that if any suspicion arises within your mind, that you will
+believe nothing without absolute and decisive proof. I mean, that you
+will not misjudge her."
+
+By "her" he had indicated the lady whose initials were "E. P. K."
+
+It was certainly mysterious, and my whole mind was centred upon the
+affair that day.
+
+As I stood before my glass at seven o'clock that evening, I presented a
+strange, uncanny figure, dressed as I was in a shabby suit which I had
+obtained during the day from a theatrical costumier's in Covent Garden.
+
+Haines, to whom I had invented a story that I was about to play a
+practical joke, stood by much amused at my appearance.
+
+"Well, sir," he exclaimed; "you look just like a bricklayer's labourer!"
+
+The faded suit, frayed at the wrists and elbows, had once been grey, but
+it was now patched, brown, smeared with plaster, and ingrained with white
+dust, as was the ragged cap; while the trousers were ragged at the knees
+and bottoms. Around my neck was a dirty white scarf and in my hand I
+carried a tin tea-bottle as though I had just returned from work.
+
+"Yes," I remarked, regarding myself critically. "Not even Miss Shand
+would recognise me--eh, Haines?"
+
+"No, sir. I'm sure she wouldn't. But you'll have to dirty your face and
+hands a bit. Your hands will give you away if you're not careful."
+
+"Yes. I can't wear gloves, can I?" I remarked.
+
+Thereupon, I went to the grate and succeeded in rubbing ashes over my
+hands and applying some of it to my cheeks--hardly a pleasant face
+powder, I can assure you.
+
+At a quarter to eight, with the precious letter in the pocket of my
+ragged jacket, I left Albemarle Street and sauntered along Piccadilly
+towards the Circus. The rain had ceased, but it was wet underfoot, and
+the motor buses plashed foot passengers from head to foot with liquid
+mud. In my walk I passed, outside the Piccadilly Hotel, two men I knew.
+One of them looked me straight in the face but failed to recognise me.
+
+Piccadilly Circus, the centre of the night-life of London, is unique,
+with its jostling crowds on pleasure bent, its congestion of traffic, its
+myriad lights, its flashing, illuminated signs, and the bright facade of
+the Criterion on the one side and the Pavilion on the other. Surely one
+sees the lure of London there more than at any other spot in the whole of
+our great metropolis.
+
+Passing the Criterion and turning into the Haymarket, I halted for a
+moment on the kerb, and for the first time in my life, perhaps, gazed
+philosophically upon the frantic, hurrying panorama of human life passing
+before my eyes.
+
+From where I stood I could see into the well-lit station entrance with
+the row to the telephone boxes, at the end of which sat the smart young
+operator, who was getting numbers and collecting fees. All the boxes
+were engaged, and several persons were waiting, but in vain my eyes
+searched for a lady in black wearing mimosa.
+
+The winter wind was bitterly cold, and as I was without an overcoat it
+cut through my thin, shabby clothes, causing me to shiver. Nevertheless,
+I kept my watchful vigil. By a neighbouring clock I could see that it was
+already five minutes past the hour of the appointment. Still, I waited in
+eager expectation of her coming.
+
+The only other person who seemed to loiter there was a thin, shivering
+Oriental, who bore some rugs upon his shoulder--a hawker of shawls.
+
+Past me there went men and women of every grade and every station. Boys
+were crying "Extrur spe-shull," and evil-looking loafers, those foreign
+scoundrels who infest the West End, lurked about, sometimes casting a
+suspicious glance at me, with the thought, perhaps, that I might be a
+detective.
+
+Ah! the phantasmagora of life outside the Piccadilly Tube at eight
+o'clock in the evening is indeed a strangely complex one. The world of
+London has then ceased to work and has given itself over to pleasure,
+and, alas! in so many cases, to evil.
+
+In patience I waited. The moments seemed hours, for in my suspense I was
+dubious whether, after all, she would appear. Perhaps she already knew,
+by some secret means, of Sir Digby's flight, and if so, she would not
+keep the appointment.
+
+I strolled up and down the pavement, for a policeman, noticing me hanging
+about, had gruffly ordered me to "Move on!" He, perhaps, suspected me of
+"loitering for the purpose of committing a felony."
+
+Everywhere my eager eyes searched to catch sight of some person in black
+wearing a spray of yellow blossom, but among that hurrying crowd there
+was not one woman, young or old, wearing that flower so reminiscent of
+the Riviera.
+
+I entered the station, and for some moments stood outside the telephone
+box numbered 4. Then, with failing heart, I turned and went along to the
+spacious booking-hall, where the lifts were ever descending with their
+crowds of passengers.
+
+Would she ever come? Or, was my carefully planned errand entirely in
+vain?
+
+I could not have mistaken the date, for I had made a note of it in my
+diary directly on my return from Harrington Gardens, and before I had
+learned of the tragedy. No. It now wanted a quarter to nine and she had
+not appeared. At nine I would relinquish my vigil, and assume my normal
+identity. I was sick to death of lounging there in the cutting east wind
+with the smoke-blackened tin bottle in my hand.
+
+I had been idly reading an advertisement on the wall, and turned, when my
+quick eyes suddenly caught sight of a tall, well-dressed woman of middle
+age, who, standing with her back to me, was speaking to the
+telephone-operator.
+
+I hurried eagerly past her, when my heart gave a great bound. In the
+corsage of her fur-trimmed coat she wore the sign for which I had been
+searching for an hour--a sprig of mimosa!
+
+With my heart beating quickly in wild excitement, I drew back to watch
+her movements.
+
+She had asked the operator for a number, paid him, and was told that she
+was "on" at box No. 4.
+
+I saw her enter, and watched her through the glass door speaking
+vehemently with some gesticulation. The answer she received over the wire
+seemed to cause her the greatest surprise, for I saw how her dark,
+handsome face fell when she heard the response.
+
+In a second her manner changed. From a bold, commanding attitude she at
+once became apprehensive and appealing. Though I could not hear the words
+amid all that hubbub and noise, I knew that she was begging the person at
+the other end to tell her something, but was being met with a flat
+refusal.
+
+I saw how the black-gloved hand, resting upon the little ledge, clenched
+itself tightly as she listened. I fancied that tears had come into her
+big, dark eyes, but perhaps it was only my imagination.
+
+At last she put down the receiver and emerged from the box, with a
+strange look of despair upon her handsome countenance.
+
+What, I wondered, had happened?
+
+She halted outside the box for a moment, gazing about her as though in
+expectation of meeting someone. She saw me, but seeing only a labourer,
+took no heed of my presence. Then she glanced at the tiny gold watch in
+her bracelet, and noting that it was just upon nine, drew a long
+breath--a sigh as though of despair.
+
+I waited until she slowly walked out towards the street, and following,
+came up beside her and said in a low voice:
+
+"I wonder, madame, if you are looking for me?"
+
+She glanced at me quickly, with distinct suspicion, and noting my dress,
+regarded me with some disdain.
+
+Her dark brows were knit for a second in distinct displeasure, even of
+apprehension, and then in an instant I recollected my friend's injunction
+that I might be watched and followed. In giving her the message the
+greatest secrecy was to be observed.
+
+She halted, as though in hesitation, took from her bag a tiny lace
+handkerchief and dabbed her face, then beneath her breath, and without
+glancing further at me, said:
+
+"Follow me, and I will speak to you presently--when there is no danger."
+
+Upon that I moved away and leisurely lit my pipe, as though entirely
+unconcerned, while she still stood in the doorway leading to the
+Haymarket, looking up and down as though awaiting somebody.
+
+Yes, she was a distinctly handsome woman; tall, erect, and well
+preserved. Her gown fitted her perfectly, and her black jacket, trimmed
+with some rich dark fur, was a garment which gave her the stamp of a
+woman of wealth and refinement. She wore a neat felt hat also trimmed
+with fur, white gloves, and smart shoes, extremely small, even girlish,
+for a woman so well developed.
+
+Presently she sauntered forth down the Haymarket, and a few moments
+afterwards, still smoking and carrying my bottle, I lounged lazily after
+her.
+
+At the corner, by the Carlton, she turned into Pall Mall, continuing
+along that thoroughfare without once looking back. Opposite the United
+Service Club she crossed the road, and passing across the square in
+front of the Athenaeum, descended the long flight of steps which led into
+the Mall.
+
+There in the darkness, beneath the trees, where there were no
+onlookers--for at that hour the Mall is practically deserted, save for a
+few loving couples and a stray taxi or two--she suddenly paused, and I
+quickly approached and raised my cap politely.
+
+"Well?" she asked sharply, almost in a tone of annoyance. "What is it?
+What do you want with me, my man?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+CHERCHEZ LA FEMME.
+
+
+I confess that her attitude took me aback.
+
+I was certainly unprepared for such a reception.
+
+"I believed, madame, that you were in search of me?" I said, with polite
+apology.
+
+"I certainly was not. I don't know you in the least," was her reply. "I
+went to the Tube to meet a friend who did not keep his appointment. Is it
+possible that you have been sent by him? In any case, it was very
+injudicious for you to approach me in that crowd. One never knows who
+might have been watching."
+
+"I come as messenger from my friend, Sir Digby Kemsley," I said in a low
+voice.
+
+"From him?" she gasped eagerly. "I--ah! I expected him. Is he prevented
+from coming? It was so very important, so highly essential, that we
+should meet," she added in frantic anxiety as we stood there in the
+darkness beneath the bare trees, through the branches of which the wind
+whistled weirdly.
+
+"I have this letter," I said, drawing it from my pocket. "It is addressed
+'For E. P. K.'"
+
+"For me?" she cried with eagerness, as she took it in her gloved hand,
+and then leaving my side she hurried to a street lamp, where she tore it
+open and read the contents.
+
+From where I stood I heard her utter an ejaculation of sudden terror. I
+saw how she crushed the paper in one hand while with the other she
+pressed her brow. Whatever the letter contained it was news which caused
+her the greatest apprehension and fear, for dashing back to me she asked:
+
+"When did he give you this? How long ago?"
+
+"On the night of January the sixth," was my reply. "The night when he
+left Harrington Gardens in mysterious circumstances."
+
+"Mysterious circumstances!" she echoed. "What do you mean? Is he no
+longer there?"
+
+"No, madame. He has left, and though I am, perhaps, his most intimate
+friend, I am unaware of his whereabouts. There were," I added, "reasons,
+I fear, for his disappearance."
+
+"Who are you? Tell me, first."
+
+"My name is Edward Royle," was my brief response.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle," the woman cried, "he has spoken of you many times. You
+were his best friend, he said. I am glad, indeed, to meet you, but--but
+tell me why he has disappeared--what has occurred?"
+
+"I thought you would probably know that my friend is wanted by the
+police," I replied gravely. "His description has been circulated
+everywhere."
+
+"But why?" she gasped, staring at me. "Why are the police in search of
+him?"
+
+For a few seconds I hesitated, disinclined to repeat the grave charge
+against him.
+
+"Well," I said at last in a low, earnest voice, "the fact is the police
+have discovered that Sir Digby Kemsley died in South America some months
+ago."
+
+"I don't follow you," she said.
+
+"Then I will be more plain. The police, having had a report of the death
+of Sir Digby, believe our mutual friend to be an impostor!"
+
+"An impostor! How utterly ridiculous. Why, I myself can prove his
+identity. The dead man must have been some adventurer who used his name."
+
+"That is a point which I hope with your assistance to prove," I said.
+"The police at present regard our friend with distinct suspicion."
+
+"And I suppose his worst enemy has made some serious allegation against
+him--that woman who hates him so. Ah! I see it all now. I see why he has
+written this to me--this confession which astounds me. Ah! Mr. Royle,"
+she added, her gloved hands tightly clenched in her despair. "You do not
+know in what deadly peril Sir Digby now is. Yes, I see it plainly. There
+is a charge against him--a grave and terrible charge--which he is unable
+to refute, and yet he is perfectly innocent. Oh, what can I do? How can I
+act to save him?" and her voice became broken by emotion.
+
+"First tell me the name of this woman who was such a deadly enemy of his.
+If you reveal this to me, I may be able to throw some light upon
+circumstances which are at the present moment a complete mystery."
+
+"No, that is his secret," was her low, calm reply. "He made me swear
+never to reveal the woman's name."
+
+"But his honour--nay, his liberty--is now at stake," I urged.
+
+"That does not exonerate me from breaking my word of honour, Mr. Royle."
+
+"Then he probably entertains affection for the woman, and is hence loth
+to do anything which might cause her pain. Strangely enough, men often
+love women whom they know are their bitterest enemies."
+
+"Quite so. But the present case is full of strange and romantic
+facts--facts, which if written down, would never be believed. I know many
+of them myself, and can vouch for them."
+
+"Well, is this unnamed woman a very vengeful person?" I asked,
+remembering the victim who had been found dead at Harrington Gardens.
+
+"Probably so. All women, when they hate a man, are vengeful."
+
+"Why did she hate him so?"
+
+"Because she believed a story told of him--an entirely false story--of
+how he had treated the man she loved. I taxed him with it, and he denied
+it, and brought me conclusive proof that the allegation was a pure
+invention."
+
+"Is she young or middle-aged?"
+
+"Young, and distinctly pretty," was her reply.
+
+Was it possible that this woman was speaking of that girl whom I had seen
+lying dead in my friend's flat? Had he killed her because he feared what
+she might reveal? How dearly I wished that I had with me at that moment a
+copy of the police photographs of the unidentified body.
+
+But even then she would probably declare it not to be the same person,
+so deeply had Sir Digby impressed upon her the necessity of regarding the
+affair as strictly secret.
+
+Indeed, as I walked slowly at her side, I saw that, whatever the note
+contained, it certainly had the effect upon her of preserving her
+silence.
+
+In that case, could the crime have been premeditated by my friend? Had he
+written her that secret message well knowing that he intended to kill the
+mysterious woman who was his deadliest enemy.
+
+That theory flashed across my brain as I walked with her, and I believed
+it to be the correct one. I accepted it the more readily because it
+removed from my mind those dark suspicions concerning Phrida, and, also,
+in face of facts which this unknown lady had dropped, it seemed to be
+entirely feasible.
+
+Either the unsuspecting woman fell by the hand of Digby Kemsley or--how
+can I pen the words--by the hand of Phrida, the woman I loved. There was
+the evidence that a knife with a triangular blade had been used, and such
+a knife had been, and was still, in the possession of my well-beloved;
+but from what I had learned that night it seemed that, little as I had
+dreamed the truth, my friend Digby had been held in bondage by a woman,
+whose tongue he feared.
+
+Ah! How very many men in London are the slaves of women whom they fear.
+All of us are human, and the woman with evil heart is, alas! only too
+ready to seize the opportunity of the frailty of the opposite sex, and
+whatever may be the secret she learns, of business or of private life,
+she will most certainly turn it to her advantage.
+
+It was similar circumstances I feared in the case of dear old Digby.
+
+I was wondering, as I walked, whether I should reveal to my
+companion--whose name she had told me was Mrs. Petre--the whole of the
+tragic circumstances.
+
+"Is it long ago since you last saw Digby?" I asked her presently, as we
+strolled slowly together, and after I had given her my address, and we
+had laughed together over my effective disguise.
+
+"Nearly two months," she replied. "I've been in Egypt since the beginning
+of November--at Assuan."
+
+"I was there two seasons ago," I said. "How delightful it is in Upper
+Egypt--and what a climate in winter! Why, it is said that it has never
+rained there for thirty years!"
+
+"I had a most awfully jolly time at the Cataract. It was full of smart
+people, for only the suburbs, the demi-monde, and Germans go to the
+Riviera nowadays. It's so terribly played out, and the Carnival gaiety is
+so childish and artificial."
+
+"It amuses the Cookites," I laughed; "and it puts money in the pockets of
+the hotel-keepers of Nice and the neighbourhood."
+
+"Monte is no longer _chic_," she declared. "German women in blouses
+predominate; and the really smart world has forsaken the Rooms for Cairo,
+Heliopolis, and Assuan. They are too far off and too expensive for the
+bearer of Cook's coupons."
+
+I laughed. She spoke with the nonchalant air of the smart woman of the
+world, evidently much travelled and cosmopolitan.
+
+But I again turned the conversation to our mutual friend, and strove
+with all the diplomatic powers I possessed to induce her to reveal the
+name or give me a description of the woman whom she had alleged to be his
+enemy--the woman who was under a delusion that he had wronged her lover.
+To all my questions, however, she remained dumb. That letter which I had
+placed in her hand had, no doubt, put a seal of silence upon her lips.
+
+At one moment she assumed a haughtiness of demeanour which suited her
+manner and bearing, at the next she became sympathetic and eager. She
+was, I gauged, a woman of strangely complex character. Yet whom could she
+be? I knew most, perhaps even all, of Digby's friends, I believed. He
+often used to give cosy little tea parties, to which women--many of them
+well known in society--came. Towards them he always assumed quite a
+paternal attitude, for he was nothing if not a ladies' man.
+
+She seemed very anxious to know in what circumstances he had handed me
+the note, and what instructions he had given me. To her questions I
+replied quite frankly. Indeed, I repeated his words.
+
+"Ah! yes," she cried. "He urged you not to misjudge me. Then you will
+not, Mr. Royle--will you?" she asked me with sudden earnestness.
+
+"I have no reason to misjudge you, Mrs. Petre," I said, quietly. "Why
+should I?"
+
+"Ah! but you may. Indeed, you most certainly will."
+
+"When?" I asked, in some surprise.
+
+"When--when you know the bitter truth."
+
+"The truth of what?" I gasped, my thoughts reverting to the tragedy in
+Harrington Gardens. Though I had not referred to it I felt that she must
+be aware of what had occurred, and of the real reason of Digby's flight.
+
+"The truth which you must know ere long," she answered hoarsely as we
+halted again beneath the leafless trees. "And when you learn it you will
+most certainly condemn me. But believe me, Mr. Royle, I am like your
+friend, Sir Digby, more sinned against than sinning."
+
+"You speak in enigmas," I said.
+
+"Because I cannot--I dare not tell you what I know. I dare not reveal the
+terrible and astounding secret entrusted to me. You will know it all soon
+enough. But--there," she added in a voice broken in despair, "what can
+matter now that Digby has shown the white feather--and fled."
+
+"He was not a coward, Mrs. Petre," I remarked very calmly.
+
+"No. He was a brave and honest man until----" and she paused, her low
+voice fading to a whisper that I did not catch.
+
+"Until what?" I asked. "Did something happen?"
+
+"Yes, it did," she replied in a hard, dry tone. "Something happened which
+changed his life."
+
+"Then he is not the impostor the police believe?" I demanded.
+
+"Certainly not," was her prompt reply. "Why he has thought fit to
+disappear fills me with anger. And yet--yet from this letter he has sent
+to me I can now see the reason. He was, no doubt, compelled to fly, poor
+fellow. His enemy forced him to do so."
+
+"The woman--eh?"
+
+"Yes, the woman," she admitted, bitter hatred in her voice.
+
+Then, after a pause, I said: "If I can be of any service to you, Mrs.
+Petre, for we are both friends of Digby's, I trust you will not fail to
+command me."
+
+And I handed her a card from my case, which I had carried expressly.
+
+"You are very kind, Mr. Royle," she replied. "Perhaps I may be very glad
+of your services one day. Who knows? I live at Park Mansions."
+
+"And may I call?"
+
+"For the present, no. I let my flat while I went abroad, and it is still
+occupied for several weeks. I shall not be there before the first week in
+March."
+
+"But I want to find Digby--I want to see him most urgently," I said.
+
+"And so do I!"
+
+"How can we trace him?" I asked.
+
+"Ah! I am afraid he is far too elusive. If he wishes to hide himself we
+need not hope to find him until he allows us to," she replied. "No, all
+we can do is to remain patient and hopeful."
+
+Again a silence fell between us. I felt instinctively that she wished to
+confide in me, but dare not do so.
+
+Therefore I exclaimed suddenly:
+
+"Will you not tell me, Mrs. Petre, the identity of this great enemy of
+our friend--this woman? Upon information which you yourself may give,
+Digby's future entirely depends," I added earnestly.
+
+"His future!" she echoed. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean only that I am trying to clear his good name of the stigma now
+resting upon it."
+
+The handsome woman bit her lip.
+
+"No," she replied with a great effort. "I'm sorry--deeply sorry--but I am
+now in a most embarrassing position. I have made a vow to him, and that
+vow I cannot break without first obtaining his permission. I am upon my
+honour."
+
+I was silent. What could I say?
+
+This woman certainly knew something--something which, if revealed, would
+place me in possession of the truth of what had actually occurred at
+Harrington Gardens on that fatal night. If she spoke she might clear
+Phrida of all suspicion.
+
+Suddenly, after a pause, I made up my mind to try and clear up one
+point--that serious, crucial point which had for days so obsessed me.
+
+"Mrs. Petre," I said, "I wonder if you will answer me a single question,
+one which does not really affect the situation much. Indeed, as we are, I
+hope, friends, I ask it more out of curiosity than anything else."
+
+"Well, what is it?" she asked, regarding me strangely.
+
+"I want to know whether, being a friend of Digby's, you have ever met or
+ever heard of a certain young lady living in Kensington named Phrida
+Shand."
+
+The effect of my words was almost electrical. She sprung towards me, with
+fire in her big, dark eyes.
+
+"Phrida Shand!" she cried wildly, her white-gloved hands again clenched.
+"Phrida Shand! You know that woman, eh? You know her, Mr. Royle. Is she a
+friend of yours?--or--or is she your enemy? Your friend, perhaps,
+because she is pretty. Oh, yes!" she laughed, hysterically. "Oh, yes! Of
+course, she is your friend. If she is--then curse her, Mr. Royle--invoke
+all the curses of hell upon her, as she so richly deserves!"
+
+And from her lips came a peal of laughter that was little short of
+demoniacal, while I stood glaring at her in blank dismay.
+
+What did she mean? Aye, what, indeed?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+IN WHICH AN ALLEGATION IS MADE.
+
+
+I stood aghast at her words.
+
+I strove to induce her to speak more openly, and to tell me why I should
+not regard Phrida as my friend.
+
+But she only laughed mysteriously, saying:
+
+"Wait, and you will see."
+
+"You make a distinct charge against her, therefore I think you ought to
+substantiate it," I said in a tone of distinct annoyance.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle. Heed my words, I beg of you."
+
+"But, tell me, is Miss Shand the same person as you have denounced as
+Digby's enemy?" I asked in breathless apprehension. "Surely you will tell
+me, Mrs. Petre, now that we are friends."
+
+"Ah! but are we friends?" she asked, looking at me strangely beneath the
+light of the street-lamp in that deserted thoroughfare, where all was
+silence save the distant hum of the traffic. The dark trees above stood
+out distinct against the dull red night-glare of London, as the
+mysterious woman stood before me uttering that query.
+
+"Because we are mutual friends of Sir Digby's. I hope I may call you a
+friend," I replied, as calmly as I was able.
+
+She paused for a moment in indecision. Then she said:
+
+"You admit that you are friendly with the girl Shand--eh?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"More than friendly, I wonder?" she asked in a sharp tone.
+
+"Well--I'll be perfectly frank," was my answer. "I am engaged to be
+married to her."
+
+"Married," she gasped, "to her! Are you mad, Mr. Royle?"
+
+"I think not," I answered, greatly surprised at her sudden attitude.
+"Why?"
+
+"Because--because," she replied in a low, earnest voice, scarce above a
+whisper, "because, before you take such a step make further inquiry."
+
+"Inquiry about what?" I demanded.
+
+"About--well, about what has occurred at Harrington Gardens."
+
+"Then you know!" I cried. "You know the truth, Mrs. Petre?"
+
+"No," she replied quite calmly. "I know from this letter what must have
+occurred there. But who killed the girl I cannot say."
+
+"Who was the girl they found dead?" I asked breathlessly.
+
+"Ah! How can I tell? I did not see her."
+
+In a few quick words I described the deceased, but either she did not
+recognise her from the description, or she refused to tell me. In any
+case, she declared herself in ignorance.
+
+The situation was galling and tantalising. I was so near discovering the
+truth, and yet my inquiries had only plunged me more deeply into a
+quagmire of suspicion and horror. The more I tried to extricate myself
+the deeper I sank.
+
+"But whoever the poor girl may have been, you still maintain that Phrida
+Shand was Digby's most deadly enemy?" I asked quickly, setting a trap for
+her.
+
+I took her unawares, and she fell into it.
+
+"Yes," was her prompt response. An instant later, however, realising how
+she had been led to make an allegation which she had not intended, she
+hastened to correct herself, saying: "Ah, no! Of course, I do not allege
+that. I--I only know that Digby was acquainted with her, and that----"
+
+"Well?" I asked slowly, when she paused.
+
+"That--that he regretted the acquaintanceship."
+
+"Regretted? Why?"
+
+The woman shrugged her shoulders. All along she had been cognisant of the
+tragedy, yet with her innate cleverness she had not admitted her
+knowledge.
+
+"A man often regrets his friendship with a woman," she said, with a
+mysterious air.
+
+"What!" I cried fiercely. "Do you make an insinuation that----"
+
+"My dear Mr. Royle," she laughed, "I make no insinuation. It was you who
+have endeavoured to compel me to condemn her as Digby's enemy. You
+yourself suggested it!"
+
+"But you have told me that his fiercest and most bitter enemy was a
+woman!"
+
+"Certainly. But I have not told you that woman's name, nor do I intend to
+break my vow of secrecy to Digby--fugitive that he may be at this moment.
+Yet, depend upon it, he will return and crush his enemies in the dust."
+
+"I hope he will," was my fervent reply. "Yet I love Phrida Shand, and
+upon her there rests a terrible cloud of suspicion."
+
+She was silent for a moment, still standing beneath the lamp, gazing at
+me with those big, dark eyes.
+
+At last she said:
+
+"The way out is quite easy."
+
+"How?"
+
+"If you have any regard for your future put your love aside," was her
+hard response.
+
+"You hate her!" I said, knitting my brows, yet recollecting the proof I
+had secured of her presence in Digby's flat.
+
+"Yes," was her prompt response. "I hate her--I have cause to hate her!"
+
+"What cause?"
+
+"That is my own affair, Mr. Royle--my own secret. Find Digby, and he
+will, no doubt, tell you the truth."
+
+"The truth concerning Phrida?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But he knew I was engaged to her! Why did he not speak?"
+
+"And expose her secret?" she asked. "Would he have acted as a gentleman
+had he done so? Does a man so lightly betray a woman's honour?"
+
+"A woman's honour!" I gasped, staring at her, staggered as though she
+had struck me a blow. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean nothing," was her cold reply. "Take it as you may, Mr. Royle,
+only be warned."
+
+"But if Digby knew that she was worthless, he would surely have made some
+remark to arouse my suspicion?" I exclaimed.
+
+"Why should he?" she queried. "A true gentleman does not usually expose a
+woman's secret."
+
+I saw her point, and my heart sank within me. Were these scandalous
+allegations of hers based upon truth, or was she actuated by ill-feeling,
+perhaps, indeed, of jealousy?
+
+We walked on again slowly until we reached St. James's Palace, and passed
+out into the end of Pall Mall, where it joined St. James's Street. Yet
+her attitude was one of complete mystery. I was uncertain whether the
+admission she had so unconsciously made regarding Phrida--that she was
+Digby's worst enemy--was the actual truth or not.
+
+One thing was plain. This Mrs. Petre was a clever, far-seeing woman of
+the world, who had with great ingenuity held from me her knowledge of the
+crime.
+
+A problem was, therefore, presented to me. By what means could she be
+aware of it? First, she had expected to meet Digby that evening;
+secondly, the letter I had brought was written before the assassination
+of the unknown girl.
+
+How could she have obtained knowledge of the affair if it were not
+premeditated and hinted at in the letter I had so faithfully delivered?
+
+Half way up St. James's Street my companion suddenly exclaimed:
+
+"I must be going! Would you please hail me a taxi, Mr. Royle?"
+
+"I will--when you have answered my question," I said, with great
+politeness.
+
+"I have already replied to it," was her response. "You love Phrida Shand,
+but if you have any self-respect, any regard for your future, break off
+Whatever infatuation she has exercised over you. If you are Digby's
+friend, you will be a man, and act as such!"
+
+"I really don't follow you," I said, bewildered.
+
+"Perhaps not. But surely my words are plain enough!"
+
+"Is she the enemy of Digby, of whom you have spoken?"
+
+"That question I am not permitted to answer."
+
+I was silent a few seconds. Then I asked earnestly:
+
+"Tell me openly and frankly, Mrs. Petre. Is she the person you suspect of
+having committed the crime?"
+
+She gave vent to a short dry laugh.
+
+"Really, Mr. Royle," she exclaimed, "you put to me the most difficult
+riddles. How can I possibly suspect anyone of a crime of which I know
+nothing, and of which even the papers appear to be in ignorance?"
+
+"But you are not in ignorance," I said. "How, pray, did you learn that a
+tragedy had occurred?"
+
+"Ah!" she laughed. "That is my secret. You were very careful not to tell
+me the true cause of poor Digby's flight. Yes, Mr. Royle, I congratulate
+you upon your ingenuity in protecting the honour of your friend. Rest
+assured he will not forget the great services you have already rendered
+him."
+
+"I look for no reward. He was my friend," was my reply.
+
+"Then, if he was your friend and you are still his, heed my warning
+concerning Phrida Shand."
+
+"But tell me what you know?" I cried, clutching her arm as we walked
+together. "You don't understand that you are making allegations--terrible
+allegations--against the woman I love dearest in all the world. You have
+made an assertion, and I demand that you shall substantiate it," I added
+in frantic anxiety.
+
+She shook off my hand angrily, declaring that nothing more need be said,
+and adding that if I refused to heed her, then the peril would be mine.
+
+"But you shall not leave me until you have furnished me with proof of
+these perfidious actions of my love!" I declared vehemently.
+
+"Mr. Royle, we really cannot use high words in the public street," she
+replied in a low tone of reproof. "I am sorry that I am not permitted to
+say more."
+
+"But you shall!" I persisted. "Tell me--what do you know? Is Digby the
+real Sir Digby?"
+
+"Of course he is!"
+
+"And what are his exact relations with Phrida?"
+
+"Ah!" she laughed. "You had better ask her yourself, Mr. Royle. She will,
+no doubt, tell you. Of course, she will--well, if you are to marry her.
+But there, I see that you are not quite responsible for your words this
+evening. It is, perhaps, natural in the circumstances; therefore I will
+forgive you."
+
+"Natural!" I echoed. "I should think it is natural that I should resent
+such dastardly allegations when made against the woman I love."
+
+"All I repeat is--go and ask her for yourself," was the woman's quiet
+response as she drew herself up, and pulled her fur more closely about
+her throat. "I really can't be seen here talking with you in that garb,"
+she added.
+
+"But you must tell me," I persisted.
+
+"I can tell you no more than I have done. The girl you love will tell you
+everything, or--at least, if you have a grain of ingenuity, as you no
+doubt have--you will find out everything for yourself."
+
+"Ah! but----"
+
+"No, not another word, please, Mr. Royle--not to-night. If after making
+inquiry into the matter you care to come and see me when I am back in
+Park Mansions, I shall be very happy to receive you. By that time,
+however, I hope we shall have had news of poor Digby's whereabouts."
+
+"If I hear from him--as I expect to--how can I communicate with you?" I
+asked.
+
+For a few seconds she stood wondering.
+
+"Write to me to Park Mansions," she replied. "My letters are always
+forwarded."
+
+And raising her umbrella she herself hailed a passing taxi.
+
+"Remember my warning," were her final words as she gave the man an
+address in Regent's Park, and entered the conveyance. "Go and see Phrida
+Shand at once and tell her what I have said."
+
+"May I mention your name?" I asked hoarsely.
+
+"Yes," she replied. "Good-night."
+
+And a moment later I was gazing at the red back-lamp of the taxi, while
+soon afterwards I again caught a glimpse of the same lonely seller of
+shawls whom I had seen at the Tube station, trudging wearily homeward,
+there being no business doing at that hour of the evening.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+PHRIDA MAKES CONFESSION.
+
+
+I sat in my rooms in Albemarle Street utterly bewildered.
+
+My meeting with the mysterious woman who wore the spray of mimosa had,
+instead of assisting to clear up the mystery, increased it a hundredfold.
+
+The grave suspicions I had entertained of Phrida had been corroborated by
+her strangely direct insinuations and her suggestion that I should go to
+her and tell her plainly what had been alleged.
+
+Therefore, after a sleepless night, I went to Cromwell Road next morning,
+determined to know the truth. You can well imagine my state of mind when
+I entered Mrs. Shand's pretty morning-room, where great bowls of
+daffodils lent colour to the otherwise rather dull apartment.
+
+Phrida entered, gay, fresh, and charming, in a dark skirt and white
+blouse, having just risen from breakfast.
+
+"Really, Teddy," she laughed, "you ought to be awarded a prize for early
+rising. I fear I'm horribly late. It's ten o'clock. But mother and I went
+last night to the Aldwych, and afterwards with the Baileys to supper at
+the Savoy. So I may be forgiven, may I not--eh?"
+
+"Certainly, dear," I replied, placing my hand upon her shoulder. "What
+are you doing to-day?"
+
+"Oh! I'm quite full up with engagements," she replied, crossing to the
+writing-table and consulting a porcelain writing tablet.
+
+"I'm due at my dressmaker's at half-past eleven, then I've to call in
+Mount Street at half-past twelve, lunch at the Berkeley, where mother has
+two women to lunch with her, and a concert at Queen's Hall at
+three--quite a day, isn't it?" she laughed.
+
+"Yes," I said. "You are very busy--too busy even to talk seriously with
+me--eh?"
+
+"Talk seriously!" she echoed, looking me straight in the face. "What do
+you mean, Teddy? Why, what's the matter?"
+
+"Oh! nothing very much, dearest," was my reply, for I was striving to
+remain calm, not withstanding my great anxiety and tortured mind.
+
+"But there is," she persisted, clutching at my hand and looking eagerly
+into my face. "What is amiss? Tell me," she added, in low earnestness.
+
+I was silent for a moment, and leaving her I crossed to the window and
+gazed out into the broad, grey thoroughfare, grim and dispiriting on that
+chilly January morning.
+
+For a moment I held my breath, then, with sudden determination, I walked
+back to where she was standing, and placing both hands upon her
+shoulders, kissed her passionately upon the lips.
+
+"You are upset to-day, Teddy," she said, with deep concern. "What has
+happened? Tell me, dear."
+
+"I--I hardly know what's happened," I replied in a low voice. "But,
+Phrida," I said, looking straight into her great eyes, "I want to--to ask
+you a question."
+
+"A question--what?" she demanded, her cheeks paling slightly.
+
+"Yes. I want you to tell me what you know of a Mrs. Petre, a----"
+
+"Mrs. Petre!" she gasped, stepping back from me, her face pale as death
+in an instant. "That woman!"
+
+"Yes, that woman, Phrida. Who is she--what is she?"
+
+"Please don't ask me, Teddy," my love cried in distress, covering her
+pretty face with her hands and bursting suddenly into tears.
+
+"But I must, Phrida--I must, for my own peace of mind," I said.
+
+"Why? Do you know the woman?"
+
+"I met her last night," I explained. "I delivered to her a note which my
+friend Digby had entrusted to me."
+
+"I thought your friend had disappeared?" she said quickly.
+
+"It was given to me before his flight," was my response. "I fulfilled a
+confidential mission with which he entrusted me. And--and I met her. She
+knows you--isn't that so?"
+
+I stood with my eyes full upon the white face of the woman I loved,
+surveying her coldly and critically, so full of black suspicion. Was my
+heart at that moment wholly hers? In imagination, place yourself, my
+reader, in a similar position. Put before yourself the problem with
+which, at that second, I found myself face to face.
+
+I loved Phrida, and yet had I not obtained proof positive of her
+clandestine visit to my friend on that fateful night? Were her
+finger-prints not upon the little glass-topped specimen-table in his
+room?
+
+And yet so clever, so ingenious had she been, so subtle was her woman's
+wit, that she had never admitted to me any knowledge of him further than
+a formal introduction I had once made long ago.
+
+I had trusted her--aye, trusted her with all the open sincerity of an
+honourable man--for I loved her better than anything else on earth. And
+with what result?
+
+With my own senses of smell and of hearing I had detected her presence on
+the stairs--waiting, it seemed, to visit my friend in secret after I had
+left.
+
+No doubt she had been unaware of my identity as his visitor, or she would
+never dared to have lurked there.
+
+As I stood with my hand tenderly upon her arm, the gaze of my
+well-beloved was directed to the ground. Guilt seemed written upon her
+white brow, for she dared not raise her eyes to mine.
+
+"Phrida, you know that woman--you can't deny knowledge of her--can you?"
+
+She stood like a statue, with her hands clenched, her mouth half open,
+her jaws fixed.
+
+"I--I--I don't know what you mean," she faltered at last, in a hard voice
+quite unusual to her.
+
+"I mean that I have a suspicion, Phrida--a horrible suspicion--that you
+have deceived me," I said.
+
+"How?" she asked, with her harsh, forced laugh.
+
+I paused. How should I tell her? How should I begin?
+
+"You have suppressed from me certain knowledge of which you know I ought
+to have been in possession for my friend Digby's sake, and----"
+
+"Ah! Digby Kemsley again!" she cried impatiently. "You've not been the
+same to me since that man disappeared."
+
+"Because you know more concerning him than you have ever admitted to me,
+Phrida," I said in a firm, earnest voice, grasping her by the arm and
+whispering into her ear. "Now, be open and frank with me--tell me the
+truth."
+
+"Of what?" she faltered, raising her eyes to mine with a frightened look.
+
+"Of what Mrs. Petre has told me."
+
+"That woman! What has she said against me?" my love demanded with quick
+resentment.
+
+"She is not your friend, in any case," I said slowly.
+
+"My friend!" she echoed. "I should think not. She----"
+
+And my love's little hands clenched themselves and she burst again into
+tears without concluding her sentence.
+
+"I know, dearest," I said, striving to calm her, and stroking her hair
+from her white brow. "I tell you at once that I do not give credence to
+any of her foul allegations, only--well, in order to satisfy myself, I
+have come direct to you to hear your explanation."
+
+"My--my explanation!" she gasped, placing her hand to her brow and bowing
+her head. "Ah! what explanation can I make of allegations I have never
+heard?" she demanded. "Surely, Teddy, you are asking too much."
+
+I grasped her hand, and holding it in mine gazed again upon her. We were
+standing together near the centre of the room where the glowing fire
+shed a genial warmth and lit up the otherwise gloomy and solemn
+apartment.
+
+Ah! how sweet she seemed to me, how dainty, how charming, how very pure.
+And yet? Ah! the recollection of that woman's insinuations on the
+previous night ate like a canker-worm into my heart. And yet how I loved
+the pale, agitated girl before me! Was she not all the world to me?
+
+A long and painful silence had fallen between us, a silence only broken
+by the whirl of a taxi passing outside and the chiming of the long,
+old-fashioned clock on the stairs.
+
+At last I summoned courage to say in a calm, low voice;
+
+"I am not asking too much, Phrida. I am only pressing you to act with
+your usual honesty, and tell me the truth. Surely you can have nothing to
+conceal?"
+
+"How absurd you are, Teddy!" she said in her usual voice. "What can I
+possibly have to conceal from you?"
+
+"Pardon me," I said; "but you have already concealed from me certain very
+important facts concerning my friend Digby."
+
+"Who has told you that? The woman Petre, I suppose," she cried in anger.
+"Very well, believe her, if you wish."
+
+"But I don't believe her," I protested.
+
+"Then why ask me for an explanation?"
+
+"Because one is, I consider, due from you in the circumstances."
+
+"Then you have set yourself up to be my judge, have you?" she asked,
+drawing herself up proudly, all traces of her tears having vanished. I
+saw that the attitude she had now assumed was one of defiance; therefore
+I knew that if I were to obtain the information I desired I must act with
+greatest discretion.
+
+"No, Phrida," I answered. "I do not mistrust or misjudge you. All I ask
+of you is the truth. What do you know of my friend Digby Kemsley?"
+
+"Know of him--why, nothing--except that you introduced us."
+
+For a second I remained silent. Then with severity I remarked:
+
+"Pardon me, but I think you rather misunderstood my question. I meant to
+ask whether you have ever been to his flat in Harrington Gardens?"
+
+"Ah! I see," she cried instantly. "That woman Petre has endeavoured to
+set you against me, Teddy, because I love you. She has invented some
+cruel lie or other, just as she did in another case within my knowledge.
+Come," she added, "tell me out plainly what she has alleged against me?"
+
+She was very firm and resolute now, and I saw in her face a hard, defiant
+expression--an expression of bitter hatred against the woman who had
+betrayed her.
+
+"Well," I said; "loving you as intensely as I do, I can hardly bring
+myself to repeat her insinuations."
+
+"But I demand to know them," she protested, standing erect and facing me.
+"I am attacked; therefore, I am within my right to know what charges the
+woman has brought against me."
+
+"She has brought no direct charges," was my slow reply. "But she has
+suggested certain things--certain scandalous things."
+
+"What are they?" she gasped, suddenly pale as death.
+
+"First tell me the truth, Phrida," I cried, holding her in my arms and
+looking straight into those splendid eyes I admired so much. "Admit
+it--you knew Digby. He--he was a friend of yours?"
+
+"A--a friend--" she gasped, half choking with emotion. "A--friend--yes."
+
+"You knew him intimately. You visited him at his rooms unknown to me!" I
+went on fiercely.
+
+"Ah!" she shrieked. "Don't torture me like this, Teddy, when I love you
+so deeply. You don't know--you can never know all I have suffered--and
+now this woman has sought to ruin and crush me!"
+
+"Has she spoken the truth when she says that you visited Digby--at
+night--in secret!" I demanded, bitterly, between my teeth, still holding
+her, her white, hard-set face but a few inches from my own.
+
+She drew a long, deep breath, and in her eyes was a strange
+half-fascinated look--a look that I had never seen in them before.
+
+"Ah! Teddy," she gasped. "This--this is the death of all our love. I
+foresee only darkness and ruin before me. But I will not lie to you. No!
+I--I----"
+
+Then she paused, and a shudder ran through her slim frame which I held
+within my grasp. "I'll tell you the truth. Yes. I--I--went to see your
+friend unknown to you."
+
+"You did!" I cried hoarsely, with fierce anger possessing my soul.
+
+"Yes, dear," she faltered in a voice so low that I could scarce catch her
+reply. "Yes--I--I went there," she faltered, "because--because he--he
+compelled me."
+
+"Compelled you!" I echoed in blank dismay.
+
+But at that instant I saw that the blackness of unconsciousness had
+fallen upon my love even as I held her in my embrace.
+
+And for me, too, alas! the sun of life had ceased to shine, and the world
+was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE FUGITIVE'S SECRET.
+
+
+Tenderly I placed my love upon the couch, and then rang the bell.
+
+In answer to my summons the young Italian man-servant appeared.
+
+"Send Mallock here quickly," I said. "Miss Shand is not well. But say
+nothing of this to your mistress, or to the other servants. You
+understand, Egisto?"
+
+"Cer-tainly, sare," replied the smart young Tuscan, and a few moments
+later the door re-opened to admit the thin-faced maid in black, wearing
+her muslin apron and gold-rimmed glasses.
+
+She dashed across to the couch in an instant, and bent, looking into the
+white, immobile face of my well-beloved.
+
+"I fear your mistress has fainted, Mallock, so I thought it best to call
+you. I have, unfortunately, imparted to her some news which has upset
+her. Will you please see after her?"
+
+"Of course, sir. I'll go and get some smelling salts and some water."
+
+And quickly the girl disappeared. Then, when she had gone, I stood
+before the inanimate form of the woman I loved so well, and wondered what
+could be the real, actual truth.
+
+Her admission had taken me aback. She had confessed to visiting my
+friend, but had alleged that he had compelled her. Was she actually
+beneath some mysterious thraldom--was she held in some secret bondage by
+the man I had trusted and who was my best friend?
+
+The very suspicion of it filled me with a fierce irresponsible anger, and
+I clenched my fists.
+
+Ah! I would find him and face him. I would clutch his throat and force
+the truth from his lips.
+
+And if he had betrayed me--if he had exercised any evil influence over
+Phrida--then, by heaven! I would take his life!
+
+Mallock bustled in the next moment, and sinking upon her knees began to
+apply restoratives.
+
+"Tell your mistress that I will return after luncheon, if she will see
+me," I said.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And--and tell her, Mallock, to remain calm until I see her. Will you?"
+
+"Yes, sir," answered the maid, and then I went out into the hall,
+struggled into my overcoat, and left the house.
+
+Out in Cromwell Road the scene, grey, dull and dismal, was, alas! in
+accord with my own feelings.
+
+The blow I had feared had fallen. The terrible suspicion I had held from
+that moment when, upon the stairs at Harrington Gardens, I had smelt that
+sweet, unusual perfume and heard the jingle of golden bangles, had been
+proved.
+
+She had actually admitted her presence there--with the man I had believed
+to be my friend, the man, whom, up to the present, I had sought to shield
+and protect!
+
+I hailed a taxi, and not knowing what I did, drove to the Reform. As I
+passed up the steps from Pall Mall the porter handed me my letters, and
+then, heedless of where my footsteps carried me, I entered the big,
+square hall and turned into the writing-room on the left--a room historic
+in the annals of British politics, for many a State secret had been
+discussed there by Ministers of the Crown, many a point of the Cabinet's
+policy had been decided, and also the fate of many a bill.
+
+The long, sombre room with the writing tables covered with blue cloth,
+was empty, as it usually is, and I flung myself down to scribble a
+note--an apology for not keeping an appointment that afternoon.
+
+My overburdened heart was full of chagrin and grief, for my idol had been
+shattered by a single blow, and only the wreck of all my hopes and
+aspirations now remained.
+
+In a week's time the coroner would hold his adjourned inquiry into the
+tragedy at Harrington Gardens, and then what startling revelations might
+be made! By that time it was probable that the police would be able to
+establish the identity of the accused, and, moreover, with Mrs. Petre
+vengeful and incensed against Phrida, might she not make a statement to
+the authorities?
+
+If so, what then?
+
+I sat with my elbows upon the table staring out into Pall Mall, which
+wore such a cold and cheerless aspect that morning.
+
+What could I do? How should I act? Ah! yes, at that moment I sat utterly
+bewildered, and trying in vain to discern some way out of that maze of
+mystery.
+
+I had not looked at the unopened letters beneath my hand, but suddenly
+chancing to glance at them, I noticed one in an unfamiliar feminine
+handwriting.
+
+I tore it open carelessly, expecting to find some invitation or other,
+when, within, I found three hastily scrawled lines written on the
+notepaper of the Great Eastern Hotel at Liverpool Street. It read:
+
+    "Since I saw you something has happened. Can you meet me again
+    as soon as possible? Please wire me, Mrs. Petre, Melbourne
+    House, Colchester."
+
+I gazed at the note in extreme satisfaction. At least, I had the woman's
+address. Yes, after I had again seen Phrida I would see her and force
+from her lips the truth.
+
+I rose quickly, placed the other letters in my pocket without opening
+them, and drove down to the City, where I was compelled to keep a
+business appointment.
+
+At half-past three Egisto admitted me to Mrs. Shand's, and in reply to my
+question, told me that the "Signorina," as he always called Phrida, was
+in the morning-room.
+
+Dressed in a pale grey gown, relieved with lace at the collar and wrists,
+she rose slowly from a big armchair as I entered, and came across to me,
+her face pale, drawn, and anxious.
+
+"Ah! dearest," I cried. "I'm glad to see you better. Are you quite
+yourself again now?"
+
+"Quite, thanks," was her low, rather weak reply. "I--I felt very unwell
+this morning. I--I don't know what was the matter." Then clinging to me
+suddenly, she added, "Ah! forgive me, Teddy, won't you?"
+
+"There is nothing to forgive, dear," was my reply, as, placing my arm
+tenderly about her slim waist, I looked into the depths of those
+wonderful dark eyes of hers, trying to fathom what secret lay hidden
+there.
+
+"Ah!" she ejaculated. "I know, dear, that though you affect to have
+forgiven me--that you have not. How could you possibly forgive?"
+
+"I am not angry with you in the least, Phrida!" I assured her quite
+calmly. "Because you have not yet told me the truth. I am here to learn
+it."
+
+"Yes," she gasped, sinking into a chair and staring straight into the
+fire. The short winter's day was dying, and already the light had nearly
+faded. But the fire threw a mellow glow upon her pale, hard-set features,
+and she presented a strangely dramatic picture as she sat there with head
+bent in shame. "Ah! yes. You are here again to torture me, I suppose,"
+she sighed bitterly.
+
+"I have no desire in the least to torture you," I said, standing erect
+before her. "But I certainly think that some explanation of your conduct
+is due to me--the man whom you are to marry."
+
+"Marry!" she echoed in a blank voice, with a shrug of her shoulders, her
+eyes still fixed upon the fire.
+
+"Yes, marry," I repeated. "You made an admission to me this morning--one
+of which any man would in such circumstances demand explanation. You said
+that my friend had forced you to go to Harrington Gardens. Tell me why?
+What power does that man hold over you?"
+
+"Ah, no! Teddy!" she cried, starting wildly to her feet. "No, no!" she
+protested, grasping my hands frantically. "Don't ask that question. Spare
+me that! Spare me that, for the sake of the love you once bore for me."
+
+"No. I repeat my question," I said slowly, but very determinedly.
+
+"Ah! no. I--I can't answer it. I----"
+
+For a few moments a silence fell between us.
+
+Then I said in a low, meaning tone:
+
+"You can't answer it, Phrida, because you are ashamed, eh?"
+
+She sprang upon me in an instant, her face full of resentful fire.
+
+"No!" she declared vehemently. "I am not ashamed--only I--I cannot tell
+you the reason I went to Harrington Gardens. That's all."
+
+"Yours is, to say the least, a rather thin excuse, is it not?" I asked.
+
+"What else can I say? Simply I can tell you nothing."
+
+"But you admit that you went to Harrington Gardens. Did you go more than
+once?" I asked very quietly.
+
+She nodded in the affirmative.
+
+"And the last occasion was on the night when my friend was forced to
+fly, eh?" I suggested.
+
+I saw that she was about to elude answering my question. Therefore, I
+added:
+
+"I already know you were there. I have established your presence beyond
+the shadow of doubt. So you may just as well admit it."
+
+"I--I do," she faltered, sinking again into her chair and resting her
+elbows upon her knees.
+
+"You were there--you were present when the crime was committed," I said,
+looking straight at her as I stood before her with folded arms.
+
+"Whoever has said that tells wicked lies," was her quick response.
+
+"You were in Digby's room that night--after I left," I declared.
+
+"How do you know."
+
+"Because the police have photographs of your finger-prints," was my quiet
+reply.
+
+The effect of my words upon her was electrical.
+
+"The police!" she gasped, her face instantly pale as death. "Do they
+know?"
+
+"Inspector Edwards is in possession of your finger-prints," I replied
+briefly.
+
+"Then--then they will suspect me!" she shrieked in despair. "Ah! Teddy!
+If you love me, save me!"
+
+And she flung herself wildly at my feet, clutching my hands and raising
+her face to mine in frantic appeal.
+
+"For that very reason I have returned here to you to-day, Phrida," I
+replied in a low tone of sympathy. "If I can save you from being
+implicated in this terrible affair, I will. But you must tell me the
+whole truth from the start. Then I may be able to devise a plan to
+ensure your security."
+
+And I slowly assisted her to her feet and led her back to her chair.
+
+She sat without moving or speaking for some moments, gravely thinking.
+Then of a sudden, she said in a hard, hoarse voice:
+
+"Ah! you don't know, Teddy, what I have suffered--how I have been the
+innocent victim of a foul and dastardly plot. I--I was entrapped--I----"
+
+"Entrapped!" I echoed. "By whom? Not by Digby Kemsley? He was not the
+sort of man."
+
+"He is your friend, I know. But if you knew the truth you would hate
+him--hate him, with as deep and fierce a hatred as I do now," she
+declared, with a strange look in her great eyes.
+
+"You told me he had forced you to go to his flat."
+
+"He did."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because he wanted to tell me something--to----"
+
+"To tell you what?"
+
+"I refuse to explain--I can't tell you, Teddy."
+
+"Because it would be betraying his secret--eh?" I remarked with
+bitterness. "And, yet, in the same breath you have told me you hate him.
+Surely, this attitude of yours is an unusual one--is it not? You cannot
+hate him and strive to shield him at the same moment!"
+
+She paused for a second before replying. Then she said:
+
+"I admit that my attitude towards your friend is a somewhat strange one,
+but there are reasons--strong, personal reasons of my own--which prevent
+me revealing to you the whole of what is a strange and ghastly story.
+Surely it will suffice you to know that I did not conceal all knowledge
+of your friend and call upon him in secret all of my own free will. No,
+Teddy, I loved you--and I still love you, dear--far too well for that."
+
+"I trusted you, Phrida, but you deceived me," I replied, with a poignant
+bitterness in my heart.
+
+"Under compulsion. Because----" and she paused with a look of terror in
+her eyes.
+
+"Because what?" I asked slowly, placing my hand tenderly upon her
+shoulder.
+
+She shrank from contact with me.
+
+"No. I--I can't tell you. It--it's all too terrible, too horrible!" she
+whispered hoarsely, covering her white face with her hands. "I loved you,
+but, alas! all my happiness, all the joy of which I have so long dreamed,
+has slipped away from me because of the one false step--my one foolish
+action--of which I have so long repented."
+
+"Tell me, Phrida," I urged, in deep earnestness, bending down to her.
+"Confide in me."
+
+"No," she replied, with an air of determination. "It is my own affair. I
+have acted foolishly and must bear the consequences."
+
+"But surely you will not sacrifice our love rather than tell me the
+truth!" I cried.
+
+Hot tears welled in her eyes, and I felt her frail form tremble beneath
+my touch.
+
+"Alas! I am compelled," she faltered.
+
+"Then you refuse to tell me--you refuse to explain why this man whom I
+believed to be my friend, and to whom I have rendered many services, has
+held you in his thraldom?" I exclaimed bitterly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+REVEALS A FURTHER DECEPTION.
+
+
+My love paused. She remained silent for a long time. Then, with her head
+bowed, she faltered:
+
+"Yes. I--I am compelled to refuse."
+
+"Why compelled?" I demanded.
+
+"I--I cannot tell you," she whispered hoarsely. "I dare not."
+
+"Dare not? Is your secret so terrible, then?"
+
+"Yes. It is all a mystery. I do not know the truth myself," she replied.
+"I only know that I--that I love you, and that now, because that woman
+has spoken, I have lost you and am left to face the world--the
+police--alone!"
+
+"Have I not told you, dearest, that I will do my best to protect and
+defend you if you will only reveal the truth to me," I said.
+
+"But I can't."
+
+"You still wish to shield this blackguard who has held you in secret in
+his hands?" I cried in anger.
+
+"No, I don't," she cried in despair. "I tell you, Teddy, now--even if
+this is the last time we ever meet--that I love you and you alone. I
+have fallen the victim of a clever and dastardly plot, believe me, or
+believe me not. What I tell you is the truth."
+
+"I do believe you," I replied fervently. "But if you love me, Phrida, as
+you declare, you will surely reveal to me the perfidy of this man I have
+trusted!"
+
+"I--I can't now," she said in a voice of excuse. "It is impossible. But
+you may know some day."
+
+"You knew that I visited him on that fatal night. Answer me?"
+
+She hesitated. Then presently, in a low tone, replied--
+
+"Yes, Teddy, I knew. Ah!" she went on, her face white and haggard. "You
+cannot know the torture I have undergone--fearing that you might be aware
+of my presence there. Each time I met you I feared to look you in the
+face."
+
+"Because your secret is a guilty one--eh?"
+
+"I fell into a trap, and I cannot extricate myself," she declared
+hoarsely. "Now that the police know, there is only one way out for me,"
+she added, in a tone of blank despair. "I cannot face it--no--I--now that
+I have lost your love, dear. I care for naught more. My enemies will
+hound me to my death!"
+
+And she burst into a torrent of bitter tears.
+
+"No, no," I answered her, placing my hand tenderly upon her shoulder.
+"Reveal the truth to me, and I will protect you and shield you from them.
+At present, though the police are in possession of your finger-prints, as
+being those of a person who had entered the flat on that night, they have
+no knowledge of your identity, therefore, dear, have no fear."
+
+"Ah! but I am in peril!" she cried, and I felt her shudder beneath my
+touch. "That woman--ah!--she may tell the police!"
+
+"What woman?"
+
+"Mrs. Petre, the woman who has already betrayed me to you."
+
+"Then she knows--she knows your secret?" I gasped.
+
+She bent her head slowly in the affirmative.
+
+I saw in her eyes a look of terror and despair, such as I had never
+before seen in the eyes of any person before--a haunted, agonised
+expression that caused my heart to go out in sympathy for her--for even
+though she might be guilty--guilty of that crime of vengeance, yet, after
+all, she was mine and she possessed my heart.
+
+"Is there no way of closing that woman's lips?" I asked very slowly.
+
+She was silent, for, apparently, the suggestion had not before occurred
+to her. Of a sudden, she looked up into my face earnestly, and asked:
+
+"Tell me, Teddy. Will you promise me--promise not to prejudge me?"
+
+"I do not prejudge you at all, dearest," I declared with a smile. "My
+annoyance is due to your refusal to reveal to me anything concerning the
+man who has falsely posed as my friend."
+
+"I would tell you all, dearest," she assured me, "but it is impossible.
+If I spoke I should only further arouse your suspicions, for you would
+never believe that I spoke the truth."
+
+"Then you prefer that I should remain in ignorance, and by doing so your
+own peril becomes increased!" I remarked, rather harshly.
+
+"Alas! my silence is imperative," was all she would reply.
+
+Again and again I pressed her to tell me the reason of the evil influence
+held over her by the man who was now a fugitive, but with the greatest
+ingenuity she evaded my questions, afterwards declaring that all my
+inquiries were futile. The secret was hers.
+
+"And so you intend to shield this man, Phrida," I remarked at last, in
+bitter reproach.
+
+"I am not silent for his sake!" my love cried, starting up in quick
+resentment. "I hate him too much. No, I refuse to reveal the truth
+because I am compelled."
+
+"But supposing you were compelled to clear yourself in a criminal court,"
+I said. "Supposing that this woman went to the police! What then? You
+would be compelled to speak the truth."
+
+"No. I--I'd rather kill myself!" she declared, in frantic despair.
+"Indeed, that is what I intend to do--now that I know I have lost you!"
+
+"No, no," I cried. "You have not lost me, Phrida. I still believe in your
+purity and honesty," I went on, clasping her passionately to my heart,
+she sobbing bitterly the while. "I love you and I still believe in you,"
+I whispered into her ear.
+
+She heaved a great sigh.
+
+"Ah! I wonder if you really speak the truth?" she murmured. "If I thought
+you still believed in me, how happy I should be. I would face my enemies,
+and defy them."
+
+"I repeat, Phrida, that notwithstanding this suspicion upon you, I love
+you," I said very earnestly.
+
+"Then you will not prejudge me!" she asked, raising her tear-stained eyes
+to mine. "You will not believe evil of me until--until I can prove to
+you the contrary. You will not believe what Mrs. Petre has told you?" she
+implored.
+
+"I promise, dearest, that I will believe nothing against you," I said
+fervently, kissing her cold, hard lips. "But cannot you, in return,
+assist me in solving the mystery of Harrington Gardens. Who was the girl
+found there? Surely you know?"
+
+"No, I don't. I swear I don't," was her quick reply, though her face was
+blanched to the lips.
+
+"But Mrs. Petre gave me to understand that you knew her," I said.
+
+"Yes--that woman!" she cried in anger. "She has lied to you, as to the
+others. Have I not told you that she is my most deadly enemy?"
+
+"Then she may go to the police--who knows! How can we close her mouth?"
+
+My love drew a long breath and shook her head. The light had faded, and
+only the fitful flames of the fire illuminated the sombre room. In the
+dark shadows she presented a pale, pathetic little figure, her face white
+as death, her thin, delicate hands clasped before her in dismay and
+despair.
+
+"Have you any idea where Digby is at this moment?" I asked her slowly,
+wondering whether if he were an intimate friend he had let her know his
+hiding-place.
+
+"No. I have not the slightest idea," was her faint reply.
+
+"Ah! If only I could discover him I would wring the truth from him," I
+exclaimed between my teeth.
+
+"And if you did so, I myself would be imperilled," she remarked. "No,
+Teddy, you must not do that if--if you love me and would protect me."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"If you went to him he would know that I had spoken, and then he would
+fulfil the threats he has so often made. No, you must not utter a single
+word. You must, for my sake, still remain his friend. Will you, dear?"
+
+"After what you have told me!" I cried. "Never!"
+
+"But you must," she implored, grasping both my hands in hers. "If he had
+the slightest suspicion that I had admitted my friendship with him, he
+would act as he has always declared he would."
+
+"How would he act?"
+
+"He would reveal something--he would bring proofs that even you would
+consider irrefutable," she answered in a low, hard whisper. "No, dear,"
+and her grip upon my hands tightened. "In any case there only remains to
+me one course--to end it all, for in any case, I must lose you. Your
+confidence and love can never be restored."
+
+"You must not speak like that," I said very gravely. "I have not yet lost
+confidence in you, Phrida. I----"
+
+"Ah! I know how generous you are, dear," she interrupted, "but how can I
+conceal from myself the true position? You have discovered that I visited
+that man's flat clandestinely, that--that we were friends--and that----"
+
+She paused, not concluding her sentence, and bursting again into tears,
+rushed from the room before I could grasp and detain her.
+
+I stood silent, utterly dumbfounded.
+
+Were those words an admission of her guilt?
+
+Was it by her hand, as that woman had insinuated, the unknown girl's life
+had been taken?
+
+I recollected the nature of the wound, as revealed by the medical
+evidence, and I recalled that knife which was lying upon the table in
+the drawing-room above.
+
+Why did Phrida so carefully conceal from me the exact truth concerning
+her friendship with the man I had trusted? What secret power did he
+exercise over her? And why did she fear to reveal anything to me--even
+though I had assured her that my confidence in her remained unshaken.
+
+Was not guilt written upon that hard, white face?
+
+I stood staring out of the window in blank indecision. What I had all
+along half feared had been proved. Between my love and the man of whom I
+had never had the slightest suspicion, some secret--some guilty
+secret--existed.
+
+And even now, even at risk of losing my affection, she was seeking to
+shield him!
+
+My blood boiled within me, and I clenched my fists as I strode angrily up
+and down that dark room.
+
+All her admissions came back to me--her frantic appeal to me not to
+prejudge her, and her final and out-spoken decision to take her own life
+rather than reveal the truth.
+
+What could it mean? What was the real solution of that strange problem of
+crime in which, quite unwittingly, I had become so deeply implicated?
+
+I was passing the grate in pacing the room, as I had already done several
+times, when my eyes fell upon a piece of paper which had been screwed up
+and flung there. Curiosity prompted me to pick it out of the cinders, for
+it struck me that it must have been thrown there by Phrida before I had
+entered the room.
+
+To my surprise I saw the moment I held it in my hand that it was a
+telegram. Opening it carefully I found that it was addressed to her,
+therefore she had no doubt cast it upon the fire when I had so suddenly
+entered.
+
+I read it, and stood open-mouthed and amazed.
+
+By it the perfidy of the woman I loved, alas! became revealed.
+
+She had deceived me!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+AN EFFACED IDENTITY.
+
+
+The telegram was signed with the initial "D."--Digby!
+
+The words I read were--"Have discovered T suspects. Exercise greatest
+care, and remember your promise. We shall meet again soon."
+
+The message showed that it had been handed in at Brussels at one o'clock
+that afternoon.
+
+Brussels! So he was hiding there. Yes, I would lose no time in crossing
+to the gay little Belgian capital and search him out.
+
+Before giving him up to the police I would meet him face to face and
+demand the truth. I would compel him to speak.
+
+Should I retain possession of the message? I reflected. But, on
+consideration, I saw that when I had left, Phrida might return to recover
+it. If I replaced it where I had found it she would remain in ignorance
+of the knowledge I had gained.
+
+So I screwed it up again and put it back among the cinders in the grate,
+afterwards leaving the house.
+
+Next morning I stepped out upon the platform of the great Gare du Nord in
+Brussels--a city I knew well, as I had often been there on business--and
+drove in a taxi along the busy, bustling Boulevard Auspach to the Grand
+Hotel.
+
+In the courtyard, as I got out, the frock-coated and urbane manager
+welcomed me warmly, for I had frequently been his guest, and I was shown
+to a large room overlooking the Boulevard where I had a wash and changed.
+
+Then descending, I called a taxi and immediately began a tour of the
+various hotels where I thought it most likely that the man I sought might
+be.
+
+The morning was crisp and cold, with a perfect sky and brilliant
+sunshine, bright and cheerful indeed after the mist and gloom of January
+in London.
+
+Somehow the aspect, even in winter, is always brighter across the channel
+than in our much maligned little island. They know not the "pea-souper"
+on the other side of the Straits of Dover, and the light, invigorating
+atmosphere is markedly apparent directly one enters France or Belgium.
+
+The business boulevards, the Boulevarde Auspach, and the Boulevard du
+Nord, with their smart shops, their big cafes, and their hustling crowds,
+were bright and gay as my taxi sped on, first to the Metropole, in the
+Place de Brouckere.
+
+The name of Kemsley was unknown there. The old concierge glanced at his
+book, shook his head, and elevating his shoulders, replied:
+
+"Non, m'sieur."
+
+Thence I went to the Palace, in front of the station, the great new hotel
+and one of the finest in Europe, a huge, garish place of gilt and luxury.
+But there I met with equal success.
+
+Then I made the tour of the tree-lined outer boulevards, up past the
+Botanical Gardens and along the Rue Royale, first to the Hotel de France,
+then to the Europe, the Belle Vue, the Carlton in the Avenue Louise, the
+new Wiltscher's a few doors away, and a very noted English house from the
+Boulevard Waterloo, as well as a dozen other houses in various parts of
+the town--the Cecil in the Boulevard du Nord, the Astoria in the Rue
+Royale, and even one or two of the cheaper pensions--the Dufour, De
+Boek's, and Nettell's, but all to no purpose.
+
+Though I spent the whole of that day making investigations I met with no
+success.
+
+Though I administered judicious tips to concierge after concierge, I
+could not stir the memory of a single one that within the past ten days
+any English gentleman answering the description I gave had stayed at
+their establishment.
+
+Until the day faded, and the street lamps were lit, I continued my
+search, my taxi-driver having entered into the spirit of my quest, and
+from time to time suggesting other and more obscure hotels of which I had
+never heard.
+
+But the reply was the same--a regretful "Non, m'sieur."
+
+It had, of course, occurred to me that if the fugitive was hiding from
+the Belgian police, who no doubt had received his description from
+Scotland Yard, he would most certainly assume a false name.
+
+But I hoped by my minute description to be able to stir the memory of one
+or other of the dozens of uniformed hall-porters whom I interviewed. The
+majority of such men have a remarkably retentive memory for a face, due
+to long cultivation, just as that possessed by one's club hall-porter,
+who can at once address any of the thousand or so members by name.
+
+I confess, however, when at five o'clock, I sat in the huge, noisy Cafe
+Metropole over a glass of coffee and a liqueur of cognac, I began to
+realise the utter hopelessness of my search.
+
+Digby Kemsley was ever an evasive person--a past master in avoiding
+observation, as I well knew. It had always been a hobby of his, he had
+told me, of watching persons without himself being seen.
+
+Once he had remarked to me while we had been smoking together in that
+well-remembered room wherein the tragedy had taken place:
+
+"I should make a really successful detective, Royle. I've had at certain
+periods of my life to efface myself and watch unseen. Now I've brought it
+to a fine art. If ever circumstances make it imperative for me to
+disappear--which I hope not," he laughed, "well--nobody will ever find
+me, I'm positive."
+
+These words of his now came back to me as I sat there pensively smoking,
+and wondering if, after all, I had better not return again to London and
+remain patient for the additional police evidence which would no doubt be
+forthcoming at the adjourned inquest in a week's time.
+
+I thought of the clever cunning exercised by the girl whom I so dearly
+loved and in whose innocence I had so confidently believed, of her blank
+refusal to satisfy me, and alas! of her avowed determination to shield
+the scoundrel who had posed as my friend, and whom the police had
+declared to be only a vulgar impostor.
+
+My bitter reflection maddened me.
+
+The jingle and chatter of that noisy cafe, full to overflowing at that
+hour, for rain had commenced to fall outside in the boulevard, irritated
+me. From where I sat in the window I could see the crowds of business
+people, hurrying through the rain to their trams and trains--the
+neat-waisted little modistes, the felt-hatted young clerks, the obese and
+over-dressed and whiskered men from their offices on the Bourse, the
+hawkers crying the "Soir," and the "Derniere Heure," with strident
+voices, the poor girls with rusty shawls and pinched faces, selling
+flowers, and the gaping, idling Cookites who seem to eternally pass and
+re-pass the Metropole at all hours of the day and the night.
+
+Before my eyes was there presented the whole phantasmagoria of the life
+of the thrifty, hard-working Bruxellois, that active, energetic race
+which the French have so sarcastically designated "the brave Belgians."
+
+After a lonely dinner in the big, glaring salle-a-manger, at the Grand, I
+went forth again upon my quest. That the fugitive had been in Brussels on
+the previous day was proved by his telegram, yet evasive as he was, he
+might have already left. Yet I hoped he still remained in the capital,
+and if so he would, I anticipated, probably go to one of the music-halls
+or variety theatres. Therefore I set out upon another round.
+
+I strolled eagerly through the crowded promenade of the chief music-hall
+of Brussels--the Pole Nord, the lounge wherein men and women were
+promenading, laughing, and drinking, but I saw nothing of the man of whom
+I was in search.
+
+I knew that he had shaved off his beard and otherwise altered his
+appearance. Therefore my attention upon those about me was compelled to
+be most acute.
+
+I surveyed both stalls and boxes, but amid that gay, well-dressed crowd I
+could discover nobody the least resembling him.
+
+From the Pole Nord I went to the Scala, where I watched part of an
+amusing revue; but my search there was likewise in vain, as it was also
+at Olympia, the Capucines, and the Folies Bergeres, which I visited in
+turn. Then, at midnight, I turned my attention to the big cafes,
+wandering from the Bourse along the Boulevard Auspach, entering each cafe
+and glancing around, until at two o'clock in the morning I returned to
+the Grand, utterly fagged out by my long vigil of over fifteen hours.
+
+In my room I threw off my overcoat and flung myself upon the bed in utter
+despair.
+
+Until I met that man face to face I could not, I saw, learn the truth
+concerning my love's friendship with him.
+
+Mrs. Petre had made foul insinuations, and now that my suspicions had
+been aroused that Phrida might actually be guilty of that terrible crime
+at Harrington Gardens, the whole attitude of my well-beloved seemed to
+prove that my suspicions were well grounded.
+
+Indeed, her last unfinished sentence as she had rushed from the room
+seemed conclusive proof of the guilty secret by which her mind was now
+overburdened.
+
+She had never dreamed that I held the slightest suspicion. It was only
+when she knew that the woman Petre had met me and had talked with me that
+she saw herself betrayed. Then, when I had spoken frankly, and told her
+what the woman had said, she saw that to further conceal her friendship
+with Digby was impossible.
+
+Every word she had spoken, every evasive sentence, every protest that she
+was compelled to remain silent, recurred to me as I lay there staring
+blankly at the painted ceiling.
+
+She had told me that she was unaware of the fugitive's whereabouts, and
+yet not half an hour before she had received a telegram from him.
+
+Yes, Phrida--the woman I trusted and loved with such a fierce, passionate
+affection, had lied to me deliberately and barefacedly.
+
+But I was on the fellow's track, and cost what it might in time, or in
+money, I did not intend to relinquish my search until I came face to face
+with him.
+
+That night, as I tossed restlessly in bed, it occurred to me that even
+though he might be in Brussels, it was most probable in the circumstances
+that he would exercise every precaution in his movements, and knowing
+that the police were in search of him, would perhaps not go forth in the
+daytime.
+
+Many are the Englishmen living "under a cloud" in Brussels, as well as in
+Paris, and there is not a Continental city of note which does not contain
+one or more of those who have "gone under" at home.
+
+Seedy and down-at-heel, they lounge about the cafes and hotels frequented
+by English travellers. Sometimes they sit apart, pretend to sip their cup
+of coffee and read a newspaper, but in reality they are listening with
+avidity to their own language being spoken by their own people--poor,
+lonely, solitary exiles.
+
+Every man who knows the by-ways of the Continent has met them often in
+far-off, obscure towns, where they bury themselves in the lonely
+wilderness of a drab back street and live high-up for the sake of fresh
+air and that single streak of sunshine which is the sole pleasure of
+their broken, blighted lives.
+
+Yes, the more I reflected, the more apparent did it become that if the
+man whom Inspector Edwards had declared to be a gross impostor was still
+in the Belgian capital, he would most probably be in safe concealment in
+one or other of the cheaper suburbs.
+
+But how could I trace him?
+
+To go to the bureau of police and make a statement would only defeat my
+own ends.
+
+No; if I intended to learn the truth I must act upon my own initiative.
+Official interference would only thwart my own endeavours.
+
+I knew Digby Kemsley. He was as shrewd and cunning as any of the famous
+detectives, whether in real life or in fiction. Therefore, to be a match
+for him, I would, I already realised, be compelled to fight him with his
+own weapons.
+
+I did not intend that he should escape me before he told me, with his own
+lips, the secret of my well-beloved.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+REVEALS ANOTHER ENIGMA.
+
+
+"The identity of the victim has not yet been established, sir."
+
+These words were spoken to the coroner by Inspector Edwards at the
+adjourned inquest held on January the twenty-second.
+
+Few people were in court, for, until the present, the public had had no
+inkling as to what had occurred on that fatal night in Harrington
+Gardens. The first inquest had not been "covered" by any reporter, as the
+police had exercised considerable ingenuity in keeping the affair a
+secret.
+
+But now, at the adjourned inquiry, secrecy was no longer possible, and
+the three reporters present were full of inquisitiveness regarding the
+evidence given on the previous occasion, and listened with attention
+while it was being read over.
+
+Inspector Edwards, however, had dealt with them in his usually genial
+manner, and by the exercise of considerable diplomacy had succeeded in
+allaying their suspicions that there was any really good newspaper
+"story" in connection with it.
+
+The medical witnesses were recalled, but neither had anything to add to
+the depositions they had already made. The deceased had been fatally
+stabbed by a very keen knife with a blade of peculiar shape. That was
+all.
+
+The unknown had been buried, and all that remained in evidence was a
+bundle of blood-stained clothing, some articles of jewellery, a pair of
+boots, hat, coat, gloves, and a green leather vanity-bag.
+
+"Endeavours had been made, sir, to trace some of the articles worn by the
+deceased, and also to establish the laundry marks on the underclothing,"
+the inspector went on, "but, unfortunately, the marks have been
+pronounced by experts to be foreign ones, and the whole of the young
+lady's clothes appear to have been made abroad--in France or Belgium, it
+is thought."
+
+"The laundry marks are foreign, eh?" remarked the coroner, peering at the
+witness through his pince-nez, and poising his pen in his hand. "Are you
+endeavouring to make inquiry abroad concerning them?"
+
+"Every inquiry is being made, sir, in a dozen cities on the continent. In
+fact, in all the capitals."
+
+"And the description of the deceased has been circulated?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Photographs have been sent through all the channels in Europe.
+But up to the present we have met with no success," Edwards replied.
+"There is a suspicion because of a name upon a tab in the young girl's
+coat that she may be Italian. Hence the most ardent search is being made
+by the Italian authorities into the manner and descriptions of females
+lately reported as missing."
+
+"The affair seems remarkably curious," said the coroner. "It would
+certainly appear that the lady who lost her life was a stranger to
+London."
+
+"That is what we believe, sir," Edwards replied. Seated near him, I saw
+how keen and shrewd was the expression upon his face. "We have evidence
+that certain persons visited the flat on the night in question, but these
+have not yet been identified. The owner of the flat has not yet been
+found, he having absconded."
+
+"Gone abroad, I suppose?"
+
+"It would appear so, sir."
+
+"And his description has been circulated also?" asked the coroner.
+
+"Yes, a detailed description, together with a recent photograph," was
+Edwards' reply. Then he added: "We have received this at Scotland Yard,
+sir--an anonymous communication which may or may not throw considerable
+light on to the affair," and he handed a letter on blue paper to the
+coroner, which the latter perused curiously, afterwards passing it over
+to the foreman of the jury.
+
+"Rather remarkable!" he exclaimed.
+
+Then, when the jury had completed reading the anonymous letter,
+addressing them, he said:
+
+"It is not for you, gentlemen, to regard that letter in the light of
+evidence, but, nevertheless, it raises a very curious and mysterious
+point. The writer, as you will note, is prepared to reveal the truth of
+the whole affair in return for a monetary reward. It is, of course, a
+matter to be left entirely at the discretion of the police."
+
+I started at this statement, and gazed across the court--dull and
+cheerless on that cold winter's afternoon.
+
+Who had written that anonymous letter? Who could it be who was ready to
+reveal the truth if paid for doing so?
+
+Was Phrida's terrible secret known?
+
+I held my breath, and listened to the slow, hard words of the coroner, as
+he again addressed some questions to the great detective.
+
+"Yes, sir," Edwards was saying. "There is distinct evidence of the
+presence at the flat on the night in question of some person--a woman
+whose identity we have not yet been successful in establishing. We,
+however, have formed a theory which certainly appears to be borne out by
+the writer of the letter I have just handed you."
+
+"That the unknown was struck down by the hand of a woman--eh?" asked the
+Coroner, looking sharply across at the Inspector, who briefly replied in
+the affirmative, while I sat staring straight before me, like a man in a
+dream.
+
+I heard the Coroner addressing the jury in hard, business-like tones, but
+I know not what he said. My heart was too full to think of anything else
+besides the peril of the one whom I loved.
+
+I know that the verdict returned by the jury was one of "Wilful murder."
+Then I went out into the fading light of that brief London day, and,
+seeking Edwards, walked at his side towards the busy Kensington High
+Street.
+
+We had not met for several days, and he, of course, had no knowledge of
+my visit to Brussels. Our greeting was a cordial one, whereupon I asked
+him what was contained in the anonymous letter addressed to "The Yard"?
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle. It's very curious," he said. "The Coroner has it at this
+moment, or I'd show it to you. The handwriting is a woman's, and it has
+been posted at Colchester."
+
+"At Colchester!" I echoed in dismay.
+
+"Yes, why?" he asked, looking at me in surprise.
+
+"Oh, nothing. Only--well, Colchester is a curious place for anyone to
+live who knows the truth about an affair in Kensington," was my reply,
+for fortunately I quickly recovered myself.
+
+"Why not Colchester as well as Clapham--eh?"
+
+"Yes, of course," I laughed. "But, tell me, what does the woman say?"
+
+"She simply declares that she can elucidate the mystery and give us the
+correct clue--even bring evidence if required--as to the actual person
+who committed the crime, if we, on our part, will pay for the
+information."
+
+"And what shall you do?" I asked eagerly.
+
+"I don't exactly know. The letter only arrived this morning. To-morrow
+the Council of Seven will decide what action we take."
+
+"Does the woman give her name?" I asked with affected carelessness.
+
+"No. She only gives the name of 'G. Payne,' and the address as 'The
+G.P.O., London.' She's evidently a rather cute person."
+
+"G. Payne"--the woman Petre without a doubt.
+
+I recollected her telegram asking me to meet her. She had said that
+something had "happened," and she had urged me to see her as soon as
+possible. Was it because I had not replied that she had penned that
+anonymous letter to the police?
+
+The letter bore the Colchester post-mark, and she, I knew, lived at
+Melbourne House in that town.
+
+"I suppose you will get into communication with her," I exclaimed
+presently.
+
+"Of course. Any line of action in the elucidation of the mystery is worth
+trying. But what I cannot quite understand is, why she requires
+blood-money," remarked the detective as we strolled together in the
+arcaded entrance to the Underground Station at High Street, Kensington.
+"I always look askance at such letters. We receive many of them at the
+Yard. Not a single murder mystery comes before us, but we receive letters
+from cranks and others offering to point out the guilty person."
+
+"But may not the writers of such letters be endeavouring to fasten guilt
+upon perfectly innocent persons against whom they have spite?" I
+suggested.
+
+"Ah! That's just it, Mr. Royle," exclaimed my companion gravely. "Yet it
+is so terribly difficult to discriminate, and I fear we often, in our
+hesitation, place aside letters, the writers of which could really give
+valuable information."
+
+"But in this case, what are your natural inclinations?" I asked. "I know
+that you possess a curious, almost unique, intuition as to what is fact
+and what is fiction. What is, may I term it, your private opinion?"
+
+He halted against the long shop-windows of Derry & Toms, and paused for
+several minutes.
+
+"Well," he said at last in a deeply earnest tone, "I tell you frankly,
+Mr. Royle, what I believe. First, I don't think that the man Kemsley,
+although an impostor, was the actual assassin."
+
+"Why?" I gasped.
+
+"Well--I've very carefully studied the whole problem. I've looked at it
+from every point of view," he said. "I confess the one fact puzzles me,
+that this man Kemsley could live so long in London and pose as the dead
+Sir Digby if he were not the actual man himself, has amazed me! In his
+position as Sir Digby, the great engineer, he must have met in society
+many persons who knew him. We have evidence that he constantly moved in
+the best circles in Mayfair, and apparently without the slightest
+compunction. Yet, in contradiction, we have the remarkable fact that the
+real Sir Digby died in South America in very mysterious and tragic
+circumstances."
+
+I saw that a problem was presented to Inspector Edwards which sorely
+puzzled him, as it certainly did myself.
+
+"Well," I asked after a pause, and then with some trepidation put the
+question, "what do you intend doing?"
+
+"Doing!" he echoed. "There is but one course to pursue. We must get in
+touch with this woman who says she knows the truth, and obtain what
+information we can from her. Perhaps she can reveal the identity of the
+woman whose fingers touched that glass-topped table in the room where
+the crime was committed. If so, that will tell us a great deal, Mr.
+Royle." Then, taking a cigarette from his pocket and tapping it, he
+added, "Do you know, I've been wondering of late how it is that you got
+those finger-prints which so exactly corresponded with the ones which we
+secured in the flat. How did you obtain them?"
+
+His question non-plussed me.
+
+"I had a suspicion," I replied in a faltering voice, "and I tried to
+corroborate it."
+
+"But you have corroborated it," he declared. "Why, Mr. Royle, those
+prints you brought to the Yard are a most important clue. Where did you
+get them?"
+
+I was silent for a moment, jostled by the crowd of passers-by.
+
+"Well," I said with a faint smile, realising what a grave mistake I had
+made in inculpating my well-beloved, "I simply made some experiments as
+an amateur in solving the mystery."
+
+"Yes, but those prints were the same as those we got from the flat.
+Whence did they come?"
+
+"I obtained them upon my own initiative," I replied, with a forced laugh.
+
+"But you must surely tell me, Mr. Royle," he urged quickly. "It's a most
+important point."
+
+"No," I replied. "I'm not a detective, remember. I simply put to the test
+a suspicion I have entertained."
+
+"Suspicion of what?"
+
+"Whether my theory was correct or not."
+
+"Whatever theory you hold, Mr. Royle, the truth remains the same. I
+truly believe," he said, looking hard at me, "namely that the unknown
+victim was struck down by the hand which imprinted the marks you brought
+to me--a woman's hand. And if I am not mistaken, sir--you know the
+identity of the guilty woman!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+CONCERNS MRS. PETRE.
+
+
+Days, weeks, passed, but I could obtain no further clue. The month of
+March lengthened into April, but we were as far as ever from a solution
+of the mystery.
+
+Since my return from Brussels I had, of course seen Phrida many, many
+times, and though I had never reverted again to the painful subject, yet
+her manner and bearing showed only too plainly that she existed in
+constant dread!
+
+Her face had become thin and haggard, with dark rings around her eyes and
+upon it was a wild, hunted expression, which she strove to disguise, but
+in vain.
+
+She now treated me with a strange, cold indifference, so unlike her real
+self, while her attitude was one of constant attention and strained
+alertness.
+
+The woman Petre had apparently not been approached by Scotland Yard,
+therefore as the days went by I became more and more anxious to see her,
+to speak with her--and, if necessary, to come to terms with her.
+
+Therefore, without a word to anyone, I one evening caught the six o'clock
+train from Liverpool Street, and before eight was eating my dinner in the
+big upstairs room of The Cups Hotel, while the hall-porter was
+endeavouring to discover for me the whereabouts of Melbourne House.
+
+I had nearly finished my meal when the uniformed servant entered, cap in
+hand, saying:
+
+"I've found, sir, that the house you've been inquiring for is out on the
+road to Marks Tey, about a mile. An old lady named Miss Morgan lived
+there for many years, but she died last autumn, and the place has, they
+say, been let furnished to a lady--a Mrs. Petre. Is that the lady you are
+trying to find?"
+
+"It certainly is," I replied, much gratified at the man's success. Then,
+placing a tip in his palm, I drank off my coffee, put on my overcoat, and
+descended to the taxi which he had summoned for me.
+
+He gave directions to the driver, and soon we were whirling along the
+broad streets of Colchester, and out of the town on the dark, open road
+which led towards London. Presently we pulled up, and getting out, I
+found myself before a long, low, ivy-covered house standing back behind a
+high hedge of clipped box, which divided the small, bare front garden
+from the road. Lonely and completely isolated, it stood on the top of a
+hill with high, leafless trees behind, and on the left a thick copse. In
+front were wide, bare, open fields.
+
+Opening the iron gate I walked up the gravelled path to the door and
+rang. In a window on the right a light showed, and as I listened I heard
+the tramp of a man's foot upon the oilcloth of the hall, and next moment
+the door was unlocked and opened.
+
+A tall, thin-faced young man of somewhat sallow complexion confronted me.
+He had keen, deep-set eyes, broad forehead, and pointed chin.
+
+"Is Mrs. Petre at home?" I inquired briefly.
+
+In a second he looked at me as though with distrust, then apparently
+seeing the taxi waiting, and satisfying himself that I was a person of
+respectability, he replied in a refined voice:
+
+"I really don't know, but I'll see, if you will step in?" and he ushered
+me into a small room at the rear of the house, a cosy but
+plainly-furnished little sitting-room, wherein a wood fire burned with
+pleasant glow.
+
+I handed him my card and sat down to wait, in the meanwhile inspecting my
+surroundings with some curiosity.
+
+Now, even as I recall that night, I cannot tell why I should have
+experienced such a sense of grave insecurity as I did when I sat there
+awaiting the woman's coming. I suppose we all of us possess in some
+degree that strange intuition of impending danger. It was so with me that
+night--just as I have on other occasions been obsessed by that curious,
+indescribable feeling that "something is about to happen."
+
+There was about that house an air of mystery which caused me to hesitate
+in suspicion. Whether it was owing to its lonely position, to the heavy
+mantle of ivy which hid its walls, to the rather weird and unusual
+appearance of the young man who had admitted me, or to the mere fact that
+I was there to meet the woman who undoubtedly knew the truth concerning
+the tragic affair, I know not. But I recollect a distinct feeling of
+personal insecurity.
+
+I knew the woman I was about to meet to be a cold, hard, unscrupulous
+person, who, no doubt, held my love's liberty--perhaps her life--in the
+hollow of her hand.
+
+That horrifying thought had just crossed my mind when my reflections were
+interrupted by the door opening suddenly and there swept into the room
+the lady upon whom I had called.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle!" she cried in warm welcome, extending her rather large
+hand as she stood before me, dressed quietly in black, relieved by a
+scarlet, artificial rose in her waistband. "So you've come at last. Ah!
+do you know I've wanted to meet you for days. I expected you would come
+to me the moment you returned from Brussels."
+
+I started, and stood staring at her without replying. She knew I had been
+to Belgium. Yet, as far as I was aware, nobody knew of my visit--not even
+Haines.
+
+"You certainly seem very well acquainted with my movements, Mrs. Petre,"
+I laughed.
+
+But she only shrugged her shoulders. Then she said:
+
+"I suppose there was no secrecy regarding your journey, was there?"
+
+"Not in the least," I replied. "I had business over there, as I very
+often have. My firm do a big business in Belgium and Holland."
+
+She smiled incredulously.
+
+"Did your business necessitate your visiting all the hotels and
+music-halls?"
+
+"How did you know that?" I asked in quick surprise.
+
+But she only pursed her lips, refusing to give me satisfaction. I saw
+that I must have been watched--perhaps by Digby himself. The only
+explanation I could think of was that he, with his clever cunning, had
+watched me, and had written to this woman, his accomplice, telling her of
+my search.
+
+"Oh! don't betray the source of your information if you consider it so
+indiscreet," I said with sarcasm a few moments later. "I came here, Mrs.
+Petre, in response to your invitation. You wished to see me?"
+
+"I did. But I fear it is now too late to avert what I had intended," was
+her quiet response. The door was closed, the room was silent, and we were
+alone.
+
+Seated in an armchair the woman leaned back and gazed at me strangely
+from beneath her long, half-closed lashes, as though undecided what she
+should say. I instantly detected her hesitation, and said:
+
+"You told me in your message that something unexpected had occurred. What
+is it? Does it concern our mutual friend, Digby?"
+
+"Friend!" she echoed. "You call him your friend, and yet at the same time
+you have been in search of him, intending to betray him to the police!"
+
+"Such was certainly not my intention," I declared firmly. "I admit that I
+have endeavoured to find him, but it was because I wished to speak with
+him."
+
+"Ah! of course," she sneered. "That girl Shand has, perhaps, made a
+statement to you, and now you want to be inquisitive, eh? She's been
+trying to clear herself by telling you some fairy-tale or another, I
+suppose?"
+
+"I repeat, Mrs. Petre," I said with anger, "I have no desire nor
+intention to act towards Digby in any way other than with friendliness."
+
+"Ah! You expect me to believe that, my dear sir," she laughed, snapping
+her fingers airily. "No, that girl is his enemy, and I am hers."
+
+"And that is the reason why you have sent the anonymous letter to the
+police!" I said in a low, hard voice, my eyes full upon her.
+
+She started at my words.
+
+"What letter?" she asked, in pretence of ignorance.
+
+"The one mentioned at the adjourned inquest at Kensington," I replied.
+"The one in which you offer to sell the life of the woman I love!"
+
+"So you know she is guilty--eh?" the woman asked. "She has confessed it
+to you--has she not?"
+
+"No. She is innocent," I cried. "I will never believe in her guilt until
+it is proved."
+
+"Then it will not be long, Mr. Royle, before you will have quite
+sufficient proof," she replied with a triumphant smile upon her lips.
+
+"You are prepared to sell those proofs, I understand," I said, suddenly
+assuming an air of extreme gravity. "Now, I'm a business man. If you wish
+to dispose of this information, why not sell it to me?"
+
+She laughed in my face.
+
+"No, not to you, my dear sir. My business is with the police, not with
+the girl's lover," was her quick response.
+
+"But the price," I said. "I will outbid the police if necessary."
+
+"No doubt you would be only too glad of the chance of saving the girl who
+has so cleverly deceived you. But, without offence, Mr. Royle, I
+certainly think you are a fool to act as you are now acting," she added.
+"A foul crime of jealousy has been committed, and the assassin must pay
+the penalty of her crime."
+
+"And you allege jealousy as the motive?" I gasped.
+
+"Most certainly," she answered. Then, after a pause of a few seconds, she
+added--"The girl you have so foolishly trusted and in whom you still
+believe so implicitly, left her home in Cromwell Road in the night, as
+she had often done before, and walked round to Harrington Gardens in
+order to see Digby. There, in his rooms, she met her rival--she had
+suspicions and went there on purpose armed with a knife. And with it she
+struck the girl down, and killed her."
+
+"It's a lie!" I cried, starting to my feet. "A foul, wicked lie!"
+
+"But what I say can be proved."
+
+"At a price," I said bitterly.
+
+"As you are a business man, so I am a business woman, Mr. Royle," she
+replied quite calmly. "When I see an opportunity of making money, I do
+not hesitate to seize it."
+
+"But if you know the truth--if this is the actual truth which at present
+I will not believe--then it is your duty, nay, you are bound by law to go
+to the police and tell them what you know."
+
+"I shall do that, never fear," she laughed. "But first I shall try and
+get something for my trouble."
+
+"And whom do you intend to bring up as witness against Miss Shand?" I
+asked.
+
+"Wait and see. There will be a witness--an eye-witness, who was present,
+and whose evidence will be corroborated," she declared in due course
+with a self-satisfied air. "I have not resolved to reveal the truth
+without fully reviewing the situation. When the police know--as they
+certainly will--you will then find that I have not lied, and perhaps you
+will alter your opinion of the girl you now hold in such high esteem."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+DISCLOSES THE TRAP.
+
+
+The woman's words held me speechless.
+
+She seemed so cold, so determined, so certain of her facts that I felt,
+when I came to consider what I already had proved, that she was actually
+telling me the ghastly truth.
+
+And yet I loved Phrida. No. I refused to allow my suspicions to be
+increased by this woman who had approached the police openly and asked
+for payment for her information.
+
+She was Phrida's enemy. Therefore it was my duty to treat her as such,
+and in a moment I had decided upon my course of action.
+
+"So I am to take it that both Digby and yourself are antagonistic towards
+Phrida Shand?" I exclaimed, leaning against the round mahogany table and
+facing her.
+
+She did not speak for a few seconds, then, springing to her feet,
+exclaimed:
+
+"Would you excuse me for a few seconds? I forgot to give an order to my
+servant who is just going out."
+
+And she bustled from the room, leaving me alone with my own confused
+thoughts.
+
+Ah! The puzzling problem was maddening me. In my investigations I now
+found myself in a cul-de-sac from which there seemed no escape. The net,
+cleverly woven without a doubt, was slowly closing about my poor darling,
+now so pale, and anxious, and trembling.
+
+Had she not already threatened to take her own life at first sign of
+suspicion being cast upon her by the police!
+
+Was that not in itself, alas! a sign that her secret was a guilty one?
+
+I knew not what to do, or how to act.
+
+I suppose my hostess had been absent for about five minutes when the door
+suddenly re-opened, and she entered.
+
+"When we were interrupted, Mrs. Petre," I said, as she advanced towards
+me, "I was asking you a plain question. Please give me a plain reply. You
+and Phrida Shand are enemies, are you not?"
+
+"Well, we are not exactly friends," she laughed, "after all that has
+occurred. I think I told you that in London."
+
+"I remember all that you told me," I replied. "But I want to know the
+true position, if--whether we are friends, or enemies? For myself, it
+matters not. I will be your friend with just as great a satisfaction as I
+will be your enemy. Now, let us understand each other. I have told you,
+I'm a man of business."
+
+The woman, clever and resourceful, smiled sweetly, and in a calm voice
+replied:
+
+"Really, Mr. Royle, I don't see why, after all, we should be enemies,
+that is, if what you tell me is the positive truth, that you owe my
+friend Digby no ill-will."
+
+"I owe no man ill-will until his perfidy is proved," was my reply. "I
+merely went to Brussels to try and find him and request an explanation.
+He charged me with a mission which I discharged with the best of my
+ability, but which, it seems, has only brought upon me a grave
+calamity--the loss of the one I love. Hence I am entitled to some
+explanation from his own lips!"
+
+"Which I promise you that you shall have in due course. So rest assured
+upon that point," she urged. "But that is in the future. We are, however,
+discussing the present. By the way--you'll take something to drink, won't
+you?"
+
+"No, thank you," I protested.
+
+"But you must have something. I'm sorry I have no whisky to offer you,
+but I have some rather decent port," and disregarding my repeated
+protests, she rang the bell, whereupon the young man who had admitted
+me--whom I now found to my surprise to be a servant--entered and bowed.
+
+"Bring some port," his mistress ordered, and a few moments later he
+reappeared with a decanter and glasses upon a silver tray.
+
+She poured me out a glass, but refused to have any herself.
+
+"No, no," she laughed, "at my time of life port wine would only make me
+fat--and Heaven knows I'm growing horribly stout now. You don't know, Mr.
+Royle, what horror we women have of stoutness. In men it is a sign of
+ease and prosperity, in women it is suggestive of alcoholism and puts ten
+years on their ages."
+
+Out of politeness, I raised my glass to her and drank. Her demeanour had
+altered, and we were now becoming friends, a fact which delighted me,
+for I saw I might, by the exercise of a little judicious diplomacy, act
+so as to secure protection for Phrida.
+
+While we were chatting, I suddenly heard the engine of my taxi started,
+and the clutch put in with a jerk.
+
+"Why!" I exclaimed, surprised. "I believe that's my taxi going away. I
+hope the man isn't tired of waiting!"
+
+"No. I think it is my servant. I 'phoned for a cab for her, as I want her
+to take a message into Colchester," Mrs. Petre replied. Then, settling
+herself in the big chair, she asked:
+
+"Now, why can't we be friends, Mr. Royle?"
+
+"That I am only too anxious to be," I declared.
+
+"It is only your absurd infatuation for Phrida Shand that prevents you,"
+she said. "Ah!" she sighed. "How grossly that girl has deceived you!"
+
+I bit my lip. My suspicions were surely bitter enough without the sore
+being re-opened by this woman.
+
+Had not Phrida's admissions been a self-condemnation to which, even
+though loving her as fervently as I did, I could not altogether blind
+myself.
+
+I did not speak. My heart was too full, and strangely enough my head
+seemed swimming, but certainly not on account of the wine I had drunk,
+for I had not swallowed more than half the glass contained.
+
+The little room seemed to suddenly become stifling. Yet that woman with
+the dark eyes seemed to watch me intently as I sat there, watch me with a
+strange, deep, evil glance--an expression of fierce animosity which even
+at that moment she could not conceal.
+
+She had openly avowed that the hand of my well-beloved had killed the
+unknown victim because of jealousy. Well, when I considered all the facts
+calmly and deliberately, her words certainly seemed to bear the impress
+of truth.
+
+Phrida had confessed to me that, rather than face inquiry and
+condemnation she would take her own life. Was not that in itself
+sufficient evidence of guilt?
+
+But no! I strove to put such thoughts behind me. My brain was awhirl,
+nay, even aflame, for gradually there crept over me a strange, uncanny
+feeling of giddiness such as I had never before experienced, a faint,
+sinking feeling, as though the chair was giving way beneath me.
+
+"I don't know why, but I'm feeling rather unwell," I remarked to my
+hostess. Surely it could not be due to my overwrought senses and my
+strained anxiety for Phrida's safety.
+
+"Oh! Perhaps it's the heat of the room," the woman replied. "This place
+gets unpleasantly warm at night. You'll be better in a minute or two, no
+doubt. I'll run and get some smelling salts. It is really terribly close
+in here," and, rising quickly, she left me alone.
+
+I remember that instantly she had disappeared a red mist gathered before
+my eyes, and with a fearful feeling of asphyxiation I struggled
+violently, and fell back exhausted into my chair, while my limbs grew
+suddenly icy cold, though my brow was burning.
+
+To what could it be due?
+
+I recollect striving to think, to recall facts, to reason within myself,
+but in vain. My thoughts were so confused that grim, weird shadows and
+grotesque forms arose within my imagination. Scenes, ludicrous and
+tragic, wildly fantastic and yet horrible, were conjured up in my
+disordered brain, and with them all, pains--excruciating pains, which
+shot through from the sockets of my eyes to the back of my skull,
+inflicting upon me tortures indescribable.
+
+I set my teeth in determination not to lose consciousness beneath the
+strain, and my eyes were fixed upon the wall opposite. I remember now the
+exact pattern of the wallpaper, a design of pale blue trellis-work with
+crimson rambler roses.
+
+I suppose I must have remained in that position, sunk into a heap in the
+chair, for fully five minutes, though to me it seemed hours when I
+suddenly became conscious of the presence of persons behind me.
+
+I tried to move--to turn and look--but found that every muscle in my body
+had become paralysed. I could not lift a finger, neither would my lips
+articulate any sound other than a gurgle when I tried to cry out. And yet
+I remained in a state of consciousness, half blotted out by those weird,
+fantastic and dreamy shapes, due apparently to the effect of that wine
+upon my brain.
+
+Had I been deliberately poisoned? The startling truth flashed across my
+mind just as I heard a low stealthy movement behind me.
+
+Yes. I was helpless there, in the hands of my enemies. I, wary as I
+believed myself to be, had fallen into a trap cunningly prepared by that
+clever woman who was Digby's accomplice.
+
+I now believed all that Edwards had told me of the man's cunning and his
+imposture. How that he had assumed the identity of a clever and renowned
+man who had died so mysteriously in South America. Perhaps he had killed
+him--who could tell?
+
+As these bitter thoughts regarding the man whom I had looked upon as a
+friend flitted through my brain, I saw to my amazement, standing boldly
+before me, the woman Petre with two men, one a dark-bearded,
+beetle-browed, middle-aged man of Hindu type--a half-caste
+probably--while the other was the young man who had admitted me.
+
+The Hindu bent until his scraggy whiskers almost touched my cheek,
+looking straight into my eyes with keen, intent gaze, but without
+speaking.
+
+I saw that the young man had carried a small deal box about eighteen
+inches square, which he had placed upon the round mahogany table in the
+centre of the room.
+
+This table the woman pushed towards my chair until I was seated before
+it. But she hardly gave me a glance.
+
+I tried to speak, to inquire the reason of such strange proceedings, but
+it seemed that the drug which had been given me in that wine had produced
+entire muscular paralysis. I could not move, neither could I speak. My
+brain was on fire and swimming, yet I remained perfectly conscious,
+horrified to find myself so utterly and entirely helpless.
+
+The sallow-faced man, in whose black eyes was an evil, murderous look,
+and upon whose thin lips there played a slight, but triumphant smile,
+took both my arms and laid them straight upon the table.
+
+I tried with all my power to move them, but to no purpose. As he placed
+them, so they remained.
+
+Then, for the first time, the woman spoke, and addressing me, said in a
+hard, harsh tone:
+
+"You are Digby's enemy, and mine, Mr. Royle. Therefore you will now see
+the manner in which we treat those who endeavour to thwart our ends. You
+have been brave, but your valour has not availed you much. The secret of
+Digby Kemsley is still a secret--and will ever be a secret," she added in
+a slow, meaning voice.
+
+And as she uttered those words the half-bred Indian took my head in his
+hands and forced my body forward until my head rested upon the table
+between my outstretched arms.
+
+Again I tried to raise myself, and to utter protest, but only a low
+gurgling escaped my parched lips. My jaws were set and I could not move
+them.
+
+Ah! the situation was the strangest in which I have ever found myself in
+all my life.
+
+Suddenly, while my head lay upon the polished table I saw the Hindu put a
+short double-reed pipe to his mouth, and next instant the room was filled
+with weird, shrill music, while at the same moment he unfastened the side
+of the little box and let down the hinged flap.
+
+Again the native music sounded more shrill than before, while the woman
+and the young man-servant had retreated backward towards the door, their
+eyes fixed upon the mysterious box upon the table.
+
+I, too, had my eyes upon the box.
+
+Suddenly I caught sight of something within, and next second held my
+breath, realising the horrible torture that was intended.
+
+I lay there helpless, powerless to draw back and save myself.
+
+Again the sounds of the pipe rose and then died away slowly in a long
+drawn-out wail.
+
+My eyes were fixed upon that innocent-looking little box in horror and
+fascination.
+
+Ah! Something moved again within.
+
+I saw it--saw it quite plainly.
+
+I tried to cry out--to protest, to shout for help. But in vain.
+
+Surely this woman's vengeance was indeed a fiendish and relentless one.
+
+My face was not more than a foot away from the mysterious box, and when I
+fully realised, in my terror, what was intended, I think my brain must
+have given way.
+
+I became insane!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE SEAL OF SILENCE.
+
+
+Yes, there was no doubt about it. Terror and horror had driven me mad.
+
+And surely the deadly peril in which I found myself was in itself
+sufficient to cause the cheek of the bravest man to pale, for from that
+box there slowly issued forth a large, hideous cobra, which, coiling with
+sinuous slowness in front of my face held its hooded head erect, ready to
+strike.
+
+While the Hindu played that weird music on the pipes its head with the
+two beady eyes and flickering tongue, moved slowly to and fro. It was
+watching me and ready to deal its fatal blow.
+
+The woman saw the perspiration standing upon my white brow, and burst out
+laughing, still standing at a safe distance near the door.
+
+"Ah! Mr. Royle, you won't have much further opportunity of
+investigation," she exclaimed. "You have become far too inquisitive, and
+you constitute a danger--hence this action. I'm very sorry, but it must
+be so," declared the brutal, inhuman woman.
+
+She was watching, gloating over her triumph; waiting, indeed, for my
+death.
+
+Surely I was not their first victim! All had been carried out in a method
+which showed that the paralysing drug and the deadly reptile had been
+used before by this strange trio.
+
+The music, now being played incessantly, apparently prevented the snake
+from darting at me, as it was, no doubt, under the hypnotic influence of
+its master. But I knew that the moment the music ceased it would be my
+last.
+
+With frantic efforts I struggled to withdraw my head and hands from the
+reptile's reach, but every muscle seemed powerless. I could not budge an
+inch.
+
+Again I tried to speak, to shout for help, but no word could I
+articulate. I was dead in all save consciousness.
+
+"Oh, yes," laughed Mrs. Petre hoarsely; "we're just playing you a little
+music--to send you to sleep--to put the seal of silence upon you, Mr.
+Royle. And I hope you'll sleep very well to-night--very well--as no doubt
+you will!" and she gave vent to a loud peal of harsh laughter.
+
+Then, for a moment she hesitated, until suddenly she cried to the Hindu:
+
+"Enough!"
+
+The music ceased instantly, and the snake, whose hooded head had been
+swaying to and fro slowly, suddenly shot up erect.
+
+The spell of the music was broken, and I knew my doom was sealed.
+
+Those small, brilliant eyes were fastened upon mine, staring straight at
+me, the head moving very slowly, while those three brutes actually
+watched my agony of terror, and exchanged smiles as they waited for the
+reptile to strike its fatal blow.
+
+In an instant its fangs would, I knew, be in my face, and into my blood
+would be injected that deadly venom which must inevitably prove fatal.
+
+Yes, I had been entrapped, and they held the honours in the game. After
+my death Phrida would be denounced, accused, and convicted as an
+assassin. Because, perhaps, I might be a witness in her favour, or even
+assist her to escape arrest, this woman had taken the drastic step of
+closing my lips for ever.
+
+But was it with Digby's knowledge? Had he ever been her accomplice in
+similar deeds to this?
+
+Suddenly I recollected with a start what Edwards had told me--that the
+real Sir Digby Kemsley, an invalid, had died of snake-bite in mysterious
+circumstances, in Peru; and that his friend, a somewhat shady Englishman
+named Cane, had been suspected of placing the reptile near him, owing to
+the shouts of terror of the doomed man being overheard by a Peruvian
+man-servant.
+
+Was it possible that the man whom I had known as Digby was actually Cane?
+
+The method of the snake was the same as that practised at Huacho!
+
+These, and other thoughts, flashed across my brain in an instant, for I
+knew that the agony of a fearful death would be quickly upon me.
+
+I tried to utter a curse upon those three brutes who stood looking on
+without raising a hand to save me, but still I could not speak.
+
+Suddenly, something black shot across my startled eyes. The reptile had
+darted.
+
+The horror of that moment held me transfixed.
+
+I felt a sharp sting upon my left cheek, and next instant, petrified by a
+terror indescribable, I lost consciousness.
+
+What happened afterwards I have no idea. I can only surmise.
+
+How long I remained senseless I cannot tell. All I am aware of is that
+when I returned to a knowledge of things about me I had a feeling that my
+limbs were benumbed and cramped. Against my head was a cold, slimy wall,
+and my body was lying in water.
+
+For a time, dazed as I was, I could not distinguish my position. My
+thoughts were all confused; all seemed pitch darkness, and the silence
+was complete save for the slow trickling of water somewhere near my head.
+
+I must have lain there a full hour, slowly gathering my senses. The back
+of my head was very sore, for it seemed as though I had received a heavy
+blow, while my elbows and knees seemed cut and bruised.
+
+In the close darkness I tried to discover where I was, but my brain was
+swimming with an excruciating pain in the top of my skull.
+
+Slowly, very slowly, recollections of the past came back to
+me--remembrance of that terrible, final half-hour.
+
+Yes, Joy! I was still alive; the loathsome reptile's fang had not
+produced death. It may have bitten some object and evacuated its venom
+just prior to biting me. That was the theory which occurred to me, and I
+believe it to be the correct one.
+
+I could raise my hand, too. I was no longer paralysed. I could speak. I
+shouted, but my voice seemed deadened and stifled.
+
+On feeling my head I found that I had a long scalp-wound, upon which the
+blood was congealed. My clothes were rent, and as I groped about I
+quickly found that my prison was a circular wall of stone, wet and
+slimy, about four feet across, and that I was half reclining in water
+with soft, yielding mud beneath me, while the air seemed close and foul.
+
+The roof above me seemed high, for my voice appeared to ascend very far.
+I looked above me and high up, so high that I could only just distinguish
+it was a tiny ray of light--the light of day.
+
+With frantic fingers I felt those circular walls, thick with the
+encrustations and slime of ages. Then all of a sudden the truth flashed
+upon me. My enemies, believing me dead, had thrown me down a well!
+
+I shouted and shouted, yelled again and again. But my voice only echoed
+high up, and no one came to my assistance.
+
+My legs, immersed as they were in icy-cold water, were cramped and
+benumbed, so that I had no feeling in them, while my hands were wet and
+cold, and my head hot as fire.
+
+As far as I could judge in the darkness, the well must have been fully
+eighty feet or so deep, and after I had been flung headlong down it the
+wooden trap-door had been re-closed. It was through the chink between the
+two flaps that I could see the blessed light of day.
+
+I shouted again, yelling with all my might: "Help! Help!" in the hope
+that somebody in the vicinity might hear me and investigate.
+
+I was struggling in order to shift into a more comfortable position, and
+in doing so my feet sank deeper into the mud at the bottom of the
+well--the accumulation of many years, no doubt.
+
+Two perils faced me--starvation, or the rising of the water: for if it
+should rain above, the water percolating through the earth would cause it
+to rise in the well and overwhelm me. By the dampness of the wall I
+could feel that it was not long since the water was much higher than my
+head, as I now stood upright.
+
+Would assistance come?
+
+My heart sank within me when I thought of the possibility that I had been
+precipitated into the well in the garden of Melbourne House, in which
+case I could certainly not hope for succour.
+
+Again I put out my hands, frantically groping about me, when something I
+touched in the darkness caused me to withdraw my hand with a start.
+
+Cautiously I felt again. My eager fingers touched it, for it seemed to be
+floating on the surface of the water. It was cold, round, and long--the
+body of a snake!
+
+I drew my hand away. Its contact thrilled me.
+
+The cobra had been killed and flung in after me! In that case the
+precious trio had, without a doubt, fled.
+
+Realisation of the utter hopelessness of the situation sent a cold
+shudder through me. I had miraculously escaped death by the snake's
+fangs, and was I now to die of starvation deep in that narrow well?
+
+Again and again I shouted with all my might, straining my eyes to that
+narrow chink which showed so far above. Would assistance never come? I
+felt faint and hungry, while my wounds gave me considerable pain, and my
+head throbbed so that I felt it would burst at any moment.
+
+I found a large stone in the mud, and with it struck hard against the
+wall. But the sound was not such as might attract the attention of
+anybody who happened to be near the vicinity of the well. Therefore I
+shouted and shouted again until my voice grew hoarse, and I was
+compelled to desist on account of my exhaustion.
+
+For fully another half-hour I was compelled to remain in impatience and
+anxiety in order to recover my voice and strength for, weak as I was, the
+exertion had almost proved too much for me. So I stood there with my back
+to the slimy wall, water reaching beyond my knees, waiting and hoping
+against hope.
+
+At last I shouted again, as loudly as before, but, alas! only the weird
+echo came back to me in the silence of that deeply-sunk shaft. I felt
+stifled, but, fortunately for me, the air was not foul.
+
+Yes, my assassins had hidden me, together with the repulsive instrument
+of their crime, in that disused well, confident that no one would descend
+to investigate and discover my remains. How many persons, I wonder, are
+yearly thrown down wells where the water is known to be impure, or where
+the existence of the well itself is a secret to all but the assassin?
+
+I saw it all now. My taxi-man must have been paid and dismissed by that
+thin-faced young man, yet how cleverly the woman had evaded my question,
+and how glib her explanation of her servant going into the town in a
+taxi.
+
+When she had risen from her chair and left me, it was, no doubt, to
+swiftly arrange how my death should be encompassed.
+
+Surely that isolated, ivy-covered house was a house of grim shadows--nay,
+a house of death--for I certainly was not the first person who had been
+foully done to death within its walls.
+
+As I waited, trying to possess myself with patience, and hoping against
+hope that I might still be rescued from my living tomb, the little streak
+of light grew brighter high above, as though the wintry sun was shining.
+
+I strained my ears to catch any sound beyond the slow trickling of the
+water from the spring, but, alas! could distinguish nothing.
+
+Suddenly, however, I heard a dull report above, followed quickly by a
+second, and then another in the distance, and another. At first I
+listened much puzzled; but next moment I realised the truth.
+
+There was a shooting-party in the vicinity!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+FROM THE TOMB.
+
+
+Again I shouted--yelled aloud with all my might. I placed my hands to my
+mouth, making a trumpet of them, and shouted upwards:
+
+"Help! For God's sake! Help! I'm down here--dying! Help!--_Help!_"
+
+A dozen times I yelled my appeal, but with the same negative result.
+Whoever had fired in the vicinity was either too far away, or too
+occupied with his sport to hear me.
+
+I heard another shot fired--more distant than the rest. Then my heart
+sank within me--the party were receding.
+
+I don't know how long I waited--perhaps another hour--when I thought I
+would try again. Therefore I recommenced my shouts for assistance,
+yelling frantically towards the high-up opening.
+
+Suddenly the streak of light became obscured, and dust and gravel fell
+upon me, the latter striking my head with great force from such a height.
+
+I heard a noise above--a footstep upon the wooden flap of the well. My
+heart gave a bound.
+
+"Help!" I yelled. "Open the well! I'm down here--dying. Save me! Fetch
+assistance!"
+
+The feet above moved, and a moment later I saw above me a round disc of
+daylight and a head--a girl's head--silhouetted within it.
+
+"Who's there?" she asked in a timid, half-frightened voice.
+
+"It's me!" I cried. "Get me out of this! I'm dying. Get me a rope or
+something, quickly!"
+
+"Who are you?" asked the girl, still frightened at her discovery.
+
+"I'm a man who's been thrown down here, and I can't get out. Get somebody
+to help me, I beg of you!"
+
+"All right!" she replied. "There's some men, shooting here. I'll run and
+tell them."
+
+And her face disappeared from the disc of daylight.
+
+At last! Help was forthcoming, and I breathed more freely.
+
+I suppose about five minutes must have elapsed before I saw above me the
+heads of two men in golf-caps, peering over the edge of the well.
+
+"Hulloa!" cried one in a refined voice, "what are you doing down there?"
+
+"Doing!" I echoed, "you should come down and see!" I said with some
+sarcasm. "But, I say! Send me down a rope, will you? I'm a prisoner
+here."
+
+"Have you been thrown in there?" asked the voice. "This lady says you
+have."
+
+"Yes, I have. I'll tell you a strange story when you get me out."
+
+"All right!" exclaimed the other. "Hold on! We'll go over to the farm and
+get a rope. Why, I was here half-an-hour ago, and never dreamt you were
+down there. Hold on!"
+
+And the two faces disappeared, their places being taken by the silhouette
+of the girl.
+
+"I say!" I cried. "Where am I? What do they call this place?"
+
+"Well, this is one of the fields of Coppin's Farm, just outside Lexden
+Park."
+
+"Do you know Melbourne House?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, yes. Miss Morgan's. She's dead," replied the girl's voice from
+above. "It's out on the high road--close by."
+
+"Is this well in the middle of a field, then?" I asked.
+
+"In the corner. Some old, half-ruined cottages stood here till a couple
+of years ago, when they were pulled down."
+
+"And this was the well belonging to them?"
+
+"I suppose so," she replied, and a few minutes later I heard voices and
+saw several heads peering down at me, while now and then gravel fell upon
+my unprotected head, causing me to put my hands up to protect it.
+
+"I say!" cried the man's voice who had first addressed me, "We're sending
+down a rope. Can you fasten it round you, and then we'll haul you up? I
+expect you're in a pretty state, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes; I'm not very presentable, I fear," I laughed.
+
+Then down came a stout farmer's rope, several lengths of which were
+knotted together after some delay, until its end dangled before me.
+
+"I hope you've joined it all right," I cried. "I don't want to drop
+down!"
+
+"No, it's all right!" one of the men--evidently a labourer--declared.
+"You needn't fear, mister."
+
+I made a knot in the end, then, placing it around both my thighs, made a
+slip knot and clung to the rope above. This took me some minutes. Then,
+when all was ready, I gave the signal to haul.
+
+"Slowly!" I shouted, for I was swinging from side to side of the well,
+bruising my elbows and knees. "Haul slower! I'm getting smashed to
+pieces!"
+
+They heeded me, and with care I was gradually drawn up to the blessed
+light of day--a light which, for a few minutes, nearly blinded me, so
+exhausted and dazed was I.
+
+Naturally I was beset by a hundred queries as to how I came to be
+imprisoned in such a place.
+
+But I sat down upon the ground, a strange, begrimed and muddy figure, no
+doubt, gazing about me for a few moments unable to speak.
+
+I was in the corner of a bare, brown field, with a high hedgerow close
+by. Around were the foundations of demolished cottages, and I was seated
+upon a heap of brick-rubbish and plaster.
+
+The two who were dressed in rough, shooting kit I took to be military
+men, while three others were farm-hands, and the girl--a tall, rather
+good-looking open-air girl, was dressed in a short, tweed skirt,
+well-cut, a thick jacket, a soft felt hat, and heavy, serviceable boots.
+No second glance was needed to show that, although so roughly dressed,
+she was undoubtedly a lady.
+
+One of the men called her Maisie, and later I knew that her name was
+Maisie Morrice, that she was his sister, who had been walking with the
+"guns."
+
+My presence down the well certainly needed explanation, and as they had
+rescued me, it was necessary to satisfy their natural curiosity.
+
+"I had a curious adventure here last night," I told them, after pausing
+to take breath. "I came from London to see a lady living at Melbourne
+House. A lady named Petre--but I was given some drugged wine, and--well,
+when I came to I found myself down there. That's all."
+
+"A very unpleasant experience, I should say," remarked the elder of the
+two sportsmen, a tall, grey-moustached man, as he surveyed me. "I suppose
+you'll go back to Melbourne House and get even with the lady? I would!"
+
+"Melbourne House!" echoed the other man. "Why, Maisie, that's where old
+Miss Morgan lived, and it's been taken by some woman with an Indian
+servant, hasn't it?"
+
+"Yes," replied the girl. "She's been there a month or two, but quite a
+mystery. Nobody has called on her. Mother wouldn't let me."
+
+"Apparently she's not a very desirable acquaintance," remarked her
+brother grimly.
+
+"I want to go there," I said feebly, trying to rise.
+
+"You seem to have hurt your head pretty badly," remarked the elder
+sportsman. "I suppose you'd better go into Colchester and see the
+police--eh?"
+
+"I'll drive him in, sir," volunteered one of the men, whom I took to be
+the farmer.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Cuppin," exclaimed the girl. "Get your trap and drive this
+gentleman to the doctor and the police."
+
+"Thank you," I replied. "But I don't want the people at Melbourne House
+to know that I'm alive. They believe me dead, and it will be a pretty
+surprise for them when I return, after seeing the doctor. So I ask you
+all to remain silent about this affair--at least for an hour or so. Will
+you?"
+
+They all agreed to do so, and, being supported by two of the men, I made
+my way across the field to the farm; and ten minutes later was driving
+into Colchester in the farmer's dog-cart.
+
+At the "Cups" my appearance caused some sensation, but, ascending to my
+room, I quickly washed, changed my ruined suit, and made myself
+presentable, and then went to see an elderly and rather fussy doctor, who
+put on his most serious professional air, and who was probably the most
+renowned medical man in the town. The provincial medico, when he becomes
+a consultant, nearly always becomes pompous and egotistical, and in his
+own estimation is the only reliable man out of Harley Street.
+
+The man I visited was one of the usual type, a man of civic honours, with
+the aspirations of a mayoralty, I surmised. I think he believed that I
+had injured my head while in a state of intoxication, so I did not
+undeceive him, and allowed his assistant to bathe and bandage my wound
+and also the bite upon my cheek, while the farmer waited outside for me.
+
+When at last I emerged, I hesitated.
+
+Should I go to the police and tell them what had occurred? Or should I
+return alone to Melbourne House, and by my presence thwart whatever
+sinister plans might be in progress.
+
+If I went to the police I would be forced to explain much that I desired,
+at least for the present, to keep secret. And, after all, the local
+police could not render me much assistance. I might give the woman and
+her accomplices in charge for attempted murder, but would such course
+help in the solution of the Harrington Gardens affair?
+
+After a few moments' reflection I decided to drive straight to the house
+of shadows and demand an explanation of the dastardly attempt upon me.
+
+A quarter of an hour later Mr. Cuppin pulled up near the long,
+ivy-covered house, and, alighting, I made my way within the iron gate and
+up the gravelled path to the front door, where I rang.
+
+I listened attentively, and heard someone moving.
+
+Yes, the house was not empty, as I had half feared.
+
+A moment later a neat maid-servant opened the door, and regarded me with
+some surprise.
+
+"Is Mrs. Petre at home?" I inquired.
+
+"No, sir, she isn't," replied the girl with a strong East Anglian accent.
+
+"When will she be in?" I asked.
+
+"I really don't know, sir," she said. "She hasn't left word where she's
+gone."
+
+"Is anyone else at home?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"How long have you been with Mrs. Petre?" I asked, adding, in an
+apologetic tone, "I hope I'm not too inquisitive?"
+
+"I've been here about two months--ever since she took the house."
+
+"Don't you think your mistress a rather curious person?" I asked,
+slipping half-a-sovereign into her hand. She regarded the coin, and then
+looked at me with a smile of surprise and satisfaction.
+
+"I--I hardly know what you mean, sir," she faltered.
+
+"Well, I'll be quite frank with you," I said. "I'm anxious to know
+something about what company she keeps here. Last night, for instance, a
+gentleman called in a taxi. Did you see him?"
+
+"No, sir," she answered. "Mistress sent me out on an errand to the other
+side of the town, and when I came back just before half-past eleven I
+found the front door ajar, and everybody gone. And nobody's been back
+here since."
+
+After disposing of my body, then, the precious trio had fled.
+
+I knew that Phrida must now be in hourly peril of arrest--for that woman
+would, now that she believed me dead, lose not an instant in making a
+damning statement to the police regarding what had occurred on that night
+in Harrington Gardens.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+RECORDS A STRANGE STATEMENT.
+
+
+"Will you permit me to come inside a moment?" I asked the girl. "I want
+you to tell me one or two things, if you will."
+
+At first she hesitated, but having surveyed me critically and finding, I
+suppose, that I was not a tramp she opened the door wider and admitted me
+to the room wherein her mistress had entertained me on the previous
+night.
+
+I glanced quickly around. Yes, nothing had been altered. There was the
+chair in which I had sat, and the round, mahogany table upon which my
+head had laid so helplessly while the reptile, charmed by the Hindu's
+music, had sat erect with swaying head.
+
+Ah! as that terrible scene again arose before my eyes I stood horrified.
+The girl noticed my demeanour, and looked askance at me.
+
+"Does your mistress have many visitors?" I asked her. "To tell you the
+truth, I'm making these confidential inquiries on behalf of an insurance
+company in London. So you can be perfectly open with me. Mrs. Petre will
+never know that you have spoken."
+
+"Well, sir," replied the dark-eyed maid, after a pause, during which time
+she twisted her dainty little apron in her hand, "I suppose I really
+ought not to say anything, but the fact is mistress acts very curiously
+sometimes. Besides, I don't like Ali."
+
+"You mean the Indian?"
+
+"Yes. He's too crafty and cunning," she replied. "Sometimes in the middle
+of the night I wake up and hear Ali, shut up in his room, playing on his
+flute--such horrible music. And on such occasions the mistress and
+Horton, the man, are usually with him--listening to his concert, I
+suppose."
+
+"On those occasions, have there been guests in the house?" I asked
+quickly.
+
+"Once, I think about a fortnight ago, a gentleman had called earlier in
+the evening. But I did not see him."
+
+"Did you see him next morning?"
+
+"Oh, no; he did not stay the night."
+
+"But on this particular occasion, how did you know that Mrs. Petre and
+Horton were in the room with him?"
+
+"Because I listened from the top of the stairs, and could hear voices.
+The gentleman was in there too, I believe, listening to the noise of
+Ali's pipes."
+
+Had the stranger fallen a victim to the serpent, I wondered?
+
+Who could he have been, and what was his fate?
+
+"Has your mistress and her two servants left you suddenly like this
+before?" I inquired.
+
+"Never, sir. I can't make it out. They seem to have gone out with the
+gentleman who called--and evidently they left all of a hurry."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because when I got back I found that my mistress had pulled out the
+first coat and hat she could find, and had not taken even a handbag.
+Besides, if she knew she was to be absent she would have left me a note."
+And she added in a tone of resentment: "It isn't fair to leave me by
+myself in a lonely house like this!"
+
+"No, it isn't," I agreed. "But, tell me, does your mistress have many
+callers?"
+
+"Very few. She has had a visitor lately--a gentleman. He stayed a few
+days, and then left suddenly."
+
+"Young or old?"
+
+"Elderly, clean-shaven, and grey hair. She used to call him Digby."
+
+"Digby!" I echoed. "When was he here? Tell me quickly!"
+
+"Oh, about four days ago, I think. Yes--he went away last Sunday night."
+
+"Tell me all about him," I urged her. "He's a friend of mine."
+
+"Oh, then perhaps I ought not to say anything," said the girl a little
+confused.
+
+"On the contrary, you will be doing me the very greatest service if you
+tell me all that you know concerning him," I declared. "Don't think that
+anything you say will annoy me, for it won't. He was my friend, but he
+served me a very evil trick."
+
+"Well, sir," she replied, "he arrived here very late one night, and my
+mistress sat with him in the drawing-room nearly all night talking to
+him. I crept down to try and hear what was going on, but they were
+speaking so low, almost whispering, so that I could catch only a few
+words."
+
+"What did you hear?" I inquired breathlessly.
+
+"Well, from what I could gather the gentleman was in some grave
+danger--something to do with a girl. Mistress seemed very excited and
+talked about another girl, which she called Freda, or something like
+that, and then the gentleman mentioned somebody named Royle, whereon
+mistress seemed to fly into a passion. I heard her say distinctly, 'You
+are a fool, Digby! If you're not very careful you'll give the game away.'
+Then he said, 'If the truth comes out, she will suffer, not me.'"
+
+"Whom did you infer he meant by she?" I asked.
+
+"Ah, sir, that's impossible to say," was her response. "Well, they were
+alone there for hours. He seemed to be begging her to tell him something,
+but she steadily refused. And every time he mentioned the name of Royle
+she became angry and excited. Once I heard her say, 'As long as you keep
+carefully out of the way, you need not fear anything. Nobody--not even
+the girl--suspects the truth. So I don't see that you need have the
+slightest apprehension. But mind, you're going to play the straight game
+with me, Digby, or, by heaven! it will be the worse for you!'"
+
+"Then she threatened him?" I remarked.
+
+"Yes. She seemed very determined and spoke in a low, hard voice. Of
+course, I could only catch a few disjointed words, and out of them I
+tried to make sense. But I overheard sufficient to know that the visitor
+was in a state of great agitation and fear."
+
+"Did he go out much?"
+
+"All the time he was here I never knew him to go further than the
+garden," said the maid, who seemed to be unusually intelligent.
+
+"What about Ali?"
+
+"Ali was his constant companion. When they were together they spoke in
+some foreign language."
+
+A sudden thought flashed across my mind.
+
+Could Ali be a Peruvian Indian and not a Hindu? Was he the accomplice of
+the mysterious Englishman named Cane--the man suspected of causing the
+death of Sir Digby Kemsley?
+
+What this girl was revealing was certainly amazing.
+
+"You are quite sure that this man she called Digby left the neighbourhood
+last Sunday?" I asked her.
+
+"Quite. I overheard him speaking with the mistress late on Saturday
+night. He said, 'By this time to-morrow I shall be back in Brussels.' And
+I know he went there, for next day I posted a letter to Brussels."
+
+"To him?" I cried. "What was the address?"
+
+"The name was Bryant, and it was addressed Poste Restante, Brussels. I
+remember it, because I carefully made a note of it, as the whole affair
+seemed so extraordinary."
+
+"But this man she called Digby. Was he well-dressed?" I inquired.
+
+"Oh, no--not at all. He seemed poor and shabby. He only had with him a
+little handbag, but I believe he came from a considerable distance,
+probably from abroad, expressly to see her."
+
+"Then you think he is in Brussels now?"
+
+"Well, I posted the letter on Monday night. To-day is Wednesday," she
+said.
+
+I reflected. My first impulse was to go straight to Brussels and send a
+message to Mr. Bryant at the Poste Restante--a message that would trap
+him into an appointment with me.
+
+But in face of Phrida's present peril could I possibly leave London?
+
+I was at the parting of the ways. To hesitate might be to lose trace of
+the man who had proved such a false friend, while, by crossing to
+Brussels again, I would be leaving Phrida to her fate.
+
+"You heard no other mention of the person named Royle?" I asked her after
+a brief pause, during which I placed a second half-sovereign in her hand.
+
+She reflected for a moment, her eyes cast down upon the carpet, as we
+stood together in that sombre little room of horrors.
+
+"Well, yes," she replied thoughtfully. "One afternoon when I was taking
+tea into the drawing-room where they were sitting together I heard
+mistress say, 'I don't like that man Royle at all. He means
+mischief--more especially as he loves the girl.' The gentleman only
+laughed and said, 'Have no fear on that score. He knows nothing, and is
+not likely to know, unless you tell him.' Then mistress said, 'I've been
+a fool, perhaps, but when we met I told him one or two things--sufficient
+to cause him to think.' Then the gentleman stood up angrily and cried out
+in quite a loud voice: 'What! you fool! You've actually told him--you've
+allowed your infernal tongue to wag and let out the truth!' But she said
+that she had not told all the truth, and started abusing him--so much so
+that he left the room and went out into the garden, where, a few minutes
+later, I saw him talking excitedly to Ali. But when the two men talked I
+could, of course, understand nothing," added the girl.
+
+"Then your mistress declared that she didn't like the man Royle, eh?"
+
+"Yes; she seemed to fear him--fear that he knew too much about some
+business or other," replied the maid. "And to tell you quite frankly,
+sir, after watching the mistress and her visitor very narrowly for a
+couple of days I came to the conclusion that the gentleman was
+hiding--that perhaps the police were after him."
+
+"Why?" I inquired in a casual tone. "What made you think that?"
+
+"I hardly know. Perhaps from the scraps of conversation I overheard,
+perhaps from his cunning, secret manner--not but what he was always nice
+to me, and gave me something when he left."
+
+"You didn't hear any other names of persons mentioned?" I asked. "Try and
+think, as all that you tell me is of the greatest importance to me."
+
+The girl stood silent, while I paced up and down that room in which, not
+many hours before, I had endured that awful mental torture. She drew her
+hand across her brow, trying to recall.
+
+"Yes, there was another name," she admitted at last, "but I can't at the
+moment recall it."
+
+"Ah, do!" I implored her. "Try and recall it. I am in no hurry to leave."
+
+Again the dark-eyed maid in the dainty apron was silent--both hands upon
+her brow, as she had turned from me and was striving to remember.
+
+"It was some foreign name--a woman's name," she said.
+
+I recollected the dead girl was believed to have been a foreigner!
+
+Suddenly she cried--
+
+"Ah, I remember! The name was Mary Brack."
+
+"Mary Brack!" I repeated.
+
+"Yes. Of course I don't know how it's spelt."
+
+"Well, if it were a foreign name it would probably be Marie B-r-a-c-q--if
+you are sure you've pronounced it right."
+
+"Oh, yes. I'm quite sure. Mistress called her 'poor girl!' so I can only
+suppose that something must have happened to her."
+
+I held my breath at her words.
+
+Yes, without a doubt I had secured a clue to the identity of the girl who
+lost her life at Harrington Gardens.
+
+Her name, in all probability, was Marie Bracq!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+"MARIE BRACQ!"
+
+
+Marie Bracq! The name rang in my ears in the express all the way from
+Colchester to Liverpool Street.
+
+Just before six o'clock I alighted from a taxi in Scotland Yard, and,
+ascending in the lift, soon found myself sitting with Inspector Edwards.
+
+At that moment I deemed it judicious to tell him nothing regarding my
+night adventure in the country, except to say:
+
+"Well, I've had a strange experience--the strangest any man could have,
+because I have dared to investigate on my own account the mystery of
+Harrington Gardens."
+
+"Oh! tell me about it, Mr. Royle," he urged, leaning back in his chair
+before the littered writing-table.
+
+"There's nothing much to tell," was my reply. "I'll describe it all some
+day. At present there's no time to waste. I believe I am correct in
+saying that the name of the murdered girl is Marie Bracq."
+
+Edwards looked me straight in the face. "That's not an English name, is
+it?" he said.
+
+"No, Belgian, I should say."
+
+"Belgian? Yes, most probably," he said. "A rather uncommon name, and one
+which ought not to be difficult to trace. How did you find this out?"
+
+"Oh, it's a long story, Mr. Edwards," I said. "But I honestly believe
+that at last we are on the scent. Cannot you discover whether any girl of
+that name is missing?"
+
+"Of course. I'll wire to the Brussels police at once. Perhaps it will be
+well to ask the Prefect of Police in Paris if they have any person of
+that name reported missing," he said, and, ringing a bell, a clerk
+appeared almost instantly with a writing-pad and pencil.
+
+"Wire to Brussels and Paris and ask if they have any person named Marie
+Bracq--be careful of the spelling--missing. If so, we will send them over
+a photo."
+
+"Yes, sir," the man replied, and disappeared.
+
+"Well," I asked casually, when we were alone, "have you traced the tailor
+who made the dead girl's costume?"
+
+"Not yet. The Italian police are making every inquiry."
+
+"And what have you decided regarding that letter offering to give
+information?"
+
+"Nothing," was his prompt reply. "And if this information you have
+obtained as to the identity of the deceased proves correct, we shall do
+nothing. It will be far more satisfactory to work out the problem for
+ourselves, rather than risk being misled by somebody who has an axe to
+grind."
+
+"Ah! I'm pleased that you view the matter in that light," I said, much
+relieved. "I feel confident that I have gained the true name of the
+victim."
+
+"But how did you manage it, Mr. Royle?" he asked, much interested.
+
+I, however, refused to satisfy his curiosity.
+
+"You certainly seem to know more about the affair than we do," he
+remarked with a smile.
+
+"Well, was I not a friend of the man who is now a fugitive?" I remarked.
+
+"Ah, of course! And depend upon it, Mr. Royle, when this affair is
+cleared up, we shall find that your friend was a man of very curious
+character," he said, pursing his lips. "Inquiries have shown that many
+mysteries concerning him remain to be explained."
+
+For a moment I did not speak. Then I asked:
+
+"Is anything known concerning a woman friend of his named Petre?"
+
+"Petre?" he echoed. "No, not that I'm aware of. But it seemed that he was
+essentially what might be called a ladies' man."
+
+"I know that. He used to delight in entertaining his lady friends."
+
+"But who is this woman Petre whom you've mentioned?" he inquired with
+some curiosity.
+
+"The woman who is ready to give you information for a consideration," I
+replied.
+
+"How do you know that?"
+
+"Well, I am acquainted with her. I was with her last night," was my quick
+response. "Her intention is to condemn a perfectly innocent woman."
+
+"Whom?" he asked sharply. "The woman who lost that green horn comb at the
+flat?"
+
+I held my breath.
+
+"No, Edwards," I answered, "That question is unfair. As a gentleman, I
+cannot mention a lady's name. If she chooses to do so that's another
+matter. But if she does--as from motives of jealousy she easily may
+do--please do not take any action without first consulting me. Ere long I
+shall have a strange, almost incredible, story to put before you."
+
+"Why not now?" he asked, instantly interested.
+
+"Because I have not yet substantiated all my facts," was my reply.
+
+"Cannot I assist you? Why keep me in the dark?" he protested.
+
+"I'm afraid you can render me no other assistance except to hesitate to
+accept the allegations of that woman Petre," I replied.
+
+"Well, we shall wait until she approaches us again," he said.
+
+"This I feel certain she will do," I exclaimed. "But if you see her, make
+no mention whatever of me--you understand? She believes me to be dead,
+and therefore not likely to disprove her allegations."
+
+"Dead!" he echoed. "Really, Mr. Royle, all this sounds most interesting."
+
+"It is," I declared. "I believe I am now upon the verge of a very
+remarkable discovery--that ere long we shall know the details of that
+crime in South Kensington."
+
+"Well, if you do succeed in elucidating the mystery you will accomplish a
+marvellous feat," said the great detective, placing his hands together
+and looking at me across his table. "I confess that I'm completely
+baffled. That friend of yours who called himself Kemsley has disappeared
+as completely as though the ground had opened and swallowed him."
+
+"Ah, Edwards, London's a big place," I laughed, "and your men are really
+not very astute."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because the man you want called at my rooms in Albemarle Street only a
+few days ago."
+
+"What?" he cried, staring at me surprised.
+
+"Yes, I was unfortunately out, but he left a message with my man that he
+would let me know his address later."
+
+"Amazing impudence!" cried my friend. "He called in order to show his
+utter defiance of the police, I should think."
+
+"No. My belief is that he wished to tell me something," I said. "Anyhow,
+he will either return or send his address."
+
+"I very much doubt it. He's a clever rogue, but, like all men of his
+elusiveness and cunning, he never takes undue chances. No, Mr. Royle,
+depend upon it, he'll never visit you again."
+
+"But I may be able to find him. Who knows?"
+
+The detective moved his papers aside, and with a sigh admitted:
+
+"Yes, you may have luck, to be sure."
+
+Then, after some further conversation, he looked at the piece of sticking
+plaster on my head and remarked:
+
+"I see you've had a knock. How did you manage it?"
+
+I made an excuse that in bending before my own fireplace I had struck it
+on the corner of the mantelshelf. Afterwards I suddenly said:
+
+"You recollect those facts you told me regarding the alleged death of the
+real Kemsley in Peru, don't you?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Well, they've interested me deeply. I'd so much like to know any further
+details."
+
+Edwards reflected a moment, recalling the report.
+
+"Well," he said, taking from one of the drawers in his table a voluminous
+official file of papers. "There really isn't very much more than what you
+already know. The Consul's report is a very full one, and contains a
+quantity of depositions taken on the spot--mostly evidence of Peruvians,
+in which little credence can, perhaps, be placed. Of course," he added,
+"the suspected man Cane seems to have been a very bad lot. He was at one
+time manager of a rubber plantation belonging to a Portuguese company,
+and some very queer stories were current regarding him."
+
+"What kind of stories?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, his outrageous cruelty to the natives when they did not collect
+sufficient rubber. He used, they said, to burn the native villages and
+massacre the inhabitants without the slightest compunction. He was known
+by the natives as 'The Red Englishman.' They were terrified by him. His
+name, it seems, was Herbert Cane, and so bad became his reputation that
+he was dismissed by the company after an inquiry by a commission sent
+from Lisbon, and drifted into Argentina, sinking lower and lower in the
+social scale."
+
+Then, after referring to several closely-written pages of foolscap, each
+one bearing the blue embossed stamp of the British Consulate in Lima, he
+went on:
+
+"Inquiries showed that for a few months the man Cane was in Monte Video,
+endeavouring to obtain a railway concession for a German group of
+financiers, but his reputation became noised abroad and he found it
+better to leave that city. Afterwards he seems to have met Sir Digby and
+to have become his bosom friend."
+
+"And what were the exact circumstances of Sir Digby's death?" I asked
+anxiously.
+
+"Ah! they are veiled in mystery," was the detective's response, turning
+again to the official report and depositions of witnesses. "As I think I
+told you, Sir Digby had met with an accident and injured his spine. Cane,
+whose acquaintance he made, brought him down to Lima, and a couple of
+months later, under the doctor's advice, removed him to a bungalow at
+Huacho. Here they lived with a couple of Peruvian men-servants, named
+Senos and Luis. Cane seemed devoted to his friend, leading the life of a
+quiet, studious, refined man--very different to his wild life on the
+rubber plantation. One morning, however, on a servant entering Sir
+Digby's room, he found him dead, and an examination showed that he had
+been bitten in the arm by a poisonous snake. There were signs of a
+struggle, showing the poor fellow's agony before he died. Cane, entering
+shortly afterwards, was distracted with grief, and telegraphed himself to
+the British Consul at Lima. And, according to custom in that country,
+that same evening the unfortunate man was buried."
+
+"Without any inquiry?" I asked.
+
+"Yes. At the time, remember, there was no suspicion. A good many people
+die annually in Peru of snake-bite," Edwards replied, again referring to
+the file of papers before him. "It seems, however, that three days later,
+the second Peruvian servant--a man known as Senos--declared that during
+the night of the tragic affair he had heard his master suddenly yell with
+terror and cry out 'You blackguard, Cane, you hell-fiend; take the thing
+away. Ah! God! You--why, you've killed me!'"
+
+"Yes," I said. "But was this told to Cane?"
+
+"Cane saw the man and strenuously denied his allegation. He, indeed, went
+to the local Commissary of Police and lodged a complaint against the man
+Senos for falsely accusing him, saying that he had done so out of spite,
+because a few days before he had had occasion to reprimand him for
+inattention to his duties. Further, Cane brought up a man living five
+miles from Huacho who swore that the accused man was at his bungalow on
+that night, arriving at nine o'clock. He drank so heavily that he could
+not get home, so he remained there the night, returning at eight o'clock
+next morning."
+
+"And the police officials believed him--eh?" I asked.
+
+"Yes. But next day he left Huacho, expressing a determination to go to
+Lima and make a statement to the Consul there. But he never arrived at
+the capital, and he has never been seen since."
+
+"Then a grave suspicion rests upon him?" I remarked, reflecting upon my
+startling adventure of the previous night.
+
+"Certainly. But the curious thing is that no attempt seems to have been
+made by the police authorities in Lima to trace the man. They allowed him
+to disappear, and took no notice of the affair, even when the British
+Consul reported it. I fancy police methods must be very lax ones there,"
+he added.
+
+"But what could have been the method of the assassin?" I asked.
+
+"Why, simply to allow the snake to strike at the sleeping man, I
+presume," said the detective. "Yet, one would have thought that after the
+snake had bitten him he would have cried out for help. But he did not."
+
+Had the victim, I wondered, swallowed that same tasteless drug that I had
+swallowed, and been paralysed, as I had been?
+
+"And the motive of the crime?" I asked.
+
+Edwards shrugged his shoulders, and raised his brows.
+
+"Robbery, I should say," was his reply. "But, strangely enough, there is
+no suggestion of theft in this report; neither does there seem to be any
+woman in the case."
+
+"You, of course, suspect that my friend Digby and the man Cane, are one
+and the same person!" I said. "But is it feasible that if Cane were
+really responsible for the death of the real Sir Digby, would he have the
+bold audacity to return to London and actually pose as his victim?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Royle," replied the detective, "I think it most feasible. Great
+criminals have the most remarkable audacity. Some really astounding cases
+of most impudent impersonation have come under my own observation during
+my career in this office."
+
+"Then you adhere to the theory which you formed at first?"
+
+"Most decidedly," he replied; "and while it seems that you have a
+surprise to spring upon me very shortly, so have I one to spring upon
+you--one which I fear, Mr. Royle," he added very slowly, looking me
+gravely in the face--"I fear may come as a great shock to you."
+
+I sat staring at him, unable to utter a syllable.
+
+He was alluding to Phrida, and to the damning evidence against her.
+
+What could he know? Ah! who had betrayed my love?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+LOVE'S CONFESSION.
+
+
+I dined alone at the Club, and afterwards sat over my coffee in one of
+the smaller white-panelled rooms, gazing up at the Adams ceiling, and my
+mind full of the gravest thoughts.
+
+What had Edwards meant when he promised me an unpleasant surprise? Had
+the woman Petre already made a statement incriminating my well-beloved?
+
+If so, I would at once demand the arrest of her and her accomplices for
+attempted murder. It had suggested itself to me to make a complete
+revelation to Edwards of the whole of my exciting adventure at
+Colchester, but on mature consideration I saw that such a course might
+thwart my endeavours to come face to face with Digby.
+
+Therefore I had held my tongue.
+
+But were Edwards' suspicions that the assassin Cane and the man I knew as
+Sir Digby Kemsley were one and the same, correct, or were they not?
+
+The method by which the unfortunate Englishman in Peru had been foully
+done to death was similar to the means employed against myself at
+Colchester on the previous night. Again, the fact that the victim did not
+shout and call for aid was, no doubt, due to the administration of that
+drug which produced complete paralysis of the muscles, and yet left the
+senses perfectly normal.
+
+Was that Indian whom they called Ali really a Peruvian native--the
+accomplice of Cane? I now felt confident that this was so.
+
+But in what manner could the impostor have obtained power over Phrida?
+Why did she not take courage and reveal to me the truth?
+
+Presently, I took a taxi down to Cromwell Road and found my well-beloved,
+with thin, pale, drawn face, endeavouring to do some fancy needlework by
+the drawing-room fire. Her mother had retired with a bad headache, she
+said, and she was alone.
+
+"I expected you yesterday, Teddy," she said, taking my hand. "I waited
+all day, but you never came."
+
+"I had to go into the country," I replied somewhat lamely.
+
+Then after a brief conversation upon trivialities, during which time I
+sat regarding her closely, and noting how nervous and agitated she
+seemed, she suddenly asked:
+
+"Well! Have you heard anything more of that woman, Mrs. Petre?"
+
+"I believe she's gone abroad," I replied, with evasion.
+
+Phrida's lips twitched convulsively, and she gave vent to a slight sigh,
+of relief, perhaps.
+
+"Tell me, dearest," I said, bending and stroking her soft hair from her
+white brow. "Are you still so full of anxiety? Do you still fear the
+exposure of the truth?"
+
+She did not reply, but of a sudden buried her face upon my shoulder and
+burst into tears.
+
+"Ah!" I sighed, still stroking her hair sympathetically, "I know what you
+must suffer, darling--of the terrible mental strain upon you. I believe
+in your innocence--I still believe in it, and if you will bear a stout
+heart and trust me, I believe I shall succeed in worsting your enemies."
+
+In a moment her tear-stained face was raised to mine.
+
+"Do you really believe that you can, dear?" she asked anxiously. "Do you
+actually anticipate extricating me from this terrible position of doubt,
+uncertainty, and guilt?"
+
+"I do--if you will only trust me, and keep a brave heart, darling," I
+said. "Already I have made several discoveries--startling ones."
+
+"About Mrs. Petre, perhaps?"
+
+"About her and about others."
+
+"What about her?"
+
+"I have found out where she is living--down at Colchester."
+
+"What?" she gasped, starting. "You've been down there?"
+
+"Yes, I was there yesterday, and I saw Ali and the two servants."
+
+"You saw them--and spoke to them?" she cried incredibly.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But, Teddy--ah! You don't know how injudicious it was for you to visit
+them. Why, you might have----"
+
+"Might have what?" I asked, endeavouring to betray no surprise at her
+words.
+
+"Well, I mean you should not have ventured into the enemy's camp like
+that. It was dangerous," she declared.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"They are quite unscrupulous," she replied briefly.
+
+"They are your enemies, I know. But I cannot see why they should be
+mine," I remarked.
+
+"My enemies--yes!" my love cried bitterly. "It will not be long before
+that woman makes a charge against me, Teddy--one which I shall not be
+able to refute."
+
+"But I will assist you against them. I love you, Phrida, and it is my
+duty to defend you," I declared.
+
+"Ah! You were always so good and generous," she remarked wistfully. "But
+in this case I cannot, alas, see how you can render me any aid! The
+police will make inquiries, and--and then the end," she added in a voice
+scarce above a whisper.
+
+"No, no!" I urged. "Don't speak in that hopeless strain, darling. I know
+your position is a terrible one. We need not refer to details; as they
+are painful to both of us. But I am straining every nerve--working night
+and day to clear up the mystery and lift from you this cloud of
+suspicion. I have already commenced by learning one or two facts--facts
+of which the police remain in ignorance. Although you refused to tell
+me--why, I cannot discern--the name of the unfortunate girl who lost her
+life, I have succeeded in gaining knowledge of it. Was not the girl named
+Marie Bracq?"
+
+She started again at hearing the name.
+
+"Yes," she replied at once. "Who told you?"
+
+"I discovered it for myself," I replied. "Who was the girl--tell me?"
+
+"A friend of Digby Kemsley's."
+
+"A foreigner, of course?"
+
+"Yes, Belgian, I believe."
+
+"From Brussels, eh?"
+
+"Perhaps. I don't know for certain."
+
+"And she learned some great secret of Digby's, which was the motive of
+the crime," I suggested.
+
+But my love only shook her pretty head blankly, saying--"I don't know.
+Perhaps she knew something to his detriment."
+
+"And in order to silence her, she was killed," I suggested.
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+She made no protest of her own innocence, I noticed. She seemed to place
+herself unreservedly in my hands to judge her as I thought fit.
+
+Yet had not her own admissions been extremely strange ones. Had she not
+practically avowed her guilt?
+
+"Can you tell me nothing concerning this Belgian girl?" I asked her a few
+moments later.
+
+"I only knew her but very slightly."
+
+"Pardon me putting to you such a pointed question, Phrida. But were you
+jealous of her?"
+
+"Jealous!" she ejaculated. "Why, dear me, no. Why should I be jealous?
+Who suggested that?"
+
+"Mrs. Petre. She declares that your jealousy was the motive of the crime,
+and that Digby himself can bear witness to it."
+
+"She said that?" cried my love, her eyes flashing in fierce anger. "She's
+a wicked liar."
+
+"I know she is, and I intend to prove her so," I replied with confidence.
+"When she and I meet again we have an account to settle. You will see."
+
+"Ah! Teddy, beware of her! She's a dangerous woman--highly dangerous,"
+declared my love apprehensively. "You don't know her as I do--you do not
+know the grave evil and utter ruin she has brought upon others. So I beg
+of you to be careful not to be entrapped."
+
+"Have others been entrapped, then?" I asked with great curiosity.
+
+"I don't know. No. Please don't ask me," she protested. "I don't know."
+
+Her response was unreal. My well-beloved was I knew in possession of some
+terrible secret which she dared not betray. Yet why were her lips sealed?
+What did she fear?
+
+"I intend to find Digby, and demand the truth from him," I said after we
+had been silent for a long time. "I will never rest until I stand before
+him face to face."
+
+"Ah! no dear!" she cried in quick alarm, starting up and flinging both
+her arms about my neck. "No, don't do that?" she implored.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because he will condemn me--he will think you have learned something
+from me," she declared in deep distress.
+
+"But I shall reveal to him my sources of information," I said. "Since
+that fatal night I have learned that the man whom I believed was my firm
+friend has betrayed me. An explanation is due to me, and I intend to have
+one."
+
+"At my expense--eh?" she asked in bitter reproach.
+
+"No, dearest. The result shall not fall upon you," I said. "I will see to
+that. A foul and dastardly crime has been committed, and the assassin
+shall be brought to punishment."
+
+My well-beloved shuddered in my arms as she heard my words--as though the
+guilt were upon her.
+
+I detected it, and became more than ever puzzled. Why did she seek to
+secure this man's freedom?
+
+I asked her that question point-blank, whereupon in a hard, faltering
+voice, she replied:
+
+"Because, dear, while he is still a fugitive from justice I feel myself
+safe. The hour he is arrested is the hour of my doom."
+
+"Why speak so despondently?" I asked. "Have I not promised to protect you
+from those people?"
+
+"How can you if they make allegations against me and bring up witnesses
+who will commit perjury--who will swear anything in order that the guilt
+shall be placed upon my head," she asked in despair.
+
+"Though the justice often dispensed by country magistrates is a
+disgraceful travesty of right and wrong, yet we still have in England
+justice in the criminal courts," I said. "Rest assured that no jury will
+convict an innocent woman of the crime of murder."
+
+She stood slightly away from me, staring blankly straight before her.
+Then suddenly she pressed both hands upon her brow and cried in a low,
+intense voice:
+
+"May God have pity on me!"
+
+"Yes," I said very earnestly. "Trust in Him, dearest, and He will help
+you."
+
+"Ah!" she cried. "You don't know how I suffer--of all the terror--all the
+dread that haunts me night and day. Each ring at the door I fear may be
+the police--every man who passes the house I fear may be a detective
+watching. This torture is too awful. I feel I shall go mad--_mad_!"
+
+And she paced the room in her despair, while I stood watching her, unable
+to still the wild, frantic terror that had gripped her young heart.
+
+What could I do? What could I think?
+
+"This cannot go on, Phrida!" I cried at last in desperation. "I will
+search out this man. I'll grip him by the throat and force the truth from
+him," I declared, setting my teeth hard. "I love you, and I will not
+stand by and see you suffer like this!"
+
+"Ah, no!" she implored, suddenly approaching me, flinging herself upon
+her knees and gripping my hands. "No, I beg of you not to do that!" she
+cried hoarsely.
+
+"But why?" I demanded. "Surely you can tell me the reason of your fear!"
+I went on--"the man is a rank impostor. That has been proved already by
+the police."
+
+"Do you know that?" she asked, in an instant grave. "Are you quite
+certain of that? Remember, you have all along believed him to be the real
+Sir Digby."
+
+"What is your belief, Phrida?" I asked her very earnestly.
+
+She drew a long breath and hesitated.
+
+"Truth to tell, dear, I don't know what to think. Sometimes I believe he
+must be the real person--and at other times I am filled with doubt."
+
+"But now tell me," I urged, assisting her to rise to her feet and then
+placing my arm about her neck, so that her pretty head fell upon my
+shoulder. "Answer me truthfully this one question, for all depends upon
+it. How is it that this man has secured such a hold upon you--how is it
+that with you his word is law--that though he is a fugitive from justice
+you refuse to say a single word against him or to give me one clue to
+the solution of this mystery?"
+
+Her face was blanched to the lips, she trembled in my embrace, drawing a
+long breath.
+
+"I--I'm sorry, dear--but I--I can't tell you. I--I dare not. Can't you
+understand?" she asked with despair in her great, wide-open eyes. "_I
+dare not!_"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+OFFICIAL SECRECY.
+
+
+The following evening was damp, grey, and dull, as I stood shivering at
+the corner of the narrow Rue de l'Eveque and the broad Place de la Monnie
+in Brussels. The lamps were lit, and around me everywhere was the bustle
+of business.
+
+I had crossed by the morning service by way of Ostend, and had arrived
+again at the Grand only half an hour before.
+
+The woman Petre had sent a letter to Digby Kemsley to the Poste Restante
+in Brussels under the name of Bryant. If this were so, the fugitive must
+be in the habit of calling for his letters, and it was the great black
+facade of the chief post-office in Brussels that I was watching.
+
+The business-day was just drawing to a close, the streets were thronged,
+the traffic rattled noisily over the uneven granite paving of the big
+square. Opposite the Post Office the arc lamps were shedding a bright
+light outside the theatre, while all the shops around were a blaze of
+light, while on every side the streets were agog with life.
+
+Up and down the broad flight of steps which led to the entrance of the
+Post Office hundreds of people ascended and descended, passing and
+re-passing the four swing-doors which gave entrance to the huge hall with
+its dozens of departments ranged around and its partitioned desks for
+writing.
+
+The mails from France and England were just in, and dozens of men came
+with their keys to obtain their correspondence from the range of private
+boxes, and as I watched, the whole bustle of business life passed before
+me.
+
+I was keeping a sharp eye upon all who passed up and down that long
+flight of granite steps, but at that hour of the evening, and in that
+crowd, it was no easy matter.
+
+Would I be successful? That was the one thought which filled my mind.
+
+As I stood there, my eager gaze upon that endless stream of people, I
+felt wearied and fagged. The Channel crossing had been a bad one, as it
+so often is in January, and I had not yet recovered from my weird
+experience at Colchester. The heavy overcoat I wore was, I found, not
+proof against the cutting east wind which swept around the corner from
+the Boulevard Auspach, hence I was compelled to change my position and
+seek shelter in a doorway opposite the point where I expected the man I
+sought would enter.
+
+I had already surveyed the interior and presented the card of a friend to
+an official at the Poste Restante, though I knew there was no letter for
+him. I uttered some words of politeness to the man in order to make his
+acquaintance, as he might, perhaps, be of use to me ere my quest was at
+an end.
+
+At the Poste Restante were two windows, one distributing correspondence
+for people whose surname began with the letters A to L, and the other
+from M to Z.
+
+It was at the first window I inquired, the clerk there being a pleasant,
+fair-haired, middle-aged man in a holland coat as worn by postal
+employees. I longed to ask him if he had any letters for the name of
+Bryant, or if any Englishman of that name had called, but I dared not do
+so. He would, no doubt, snub me and tell me to mind my own business.
+
+So instead, I was extremely polite, regretted to have troubled him, and,
+raising my hat, withdrew.
+
+I saw that to remain within the big office for hours was impossible. The
+uniformed doorkeeper who sat upon a high desk overlooking everything,
+would quickly demand my business, and expel me.
+
+No, my only place was out in the open street. Not a pleasant prospect in
+winter, and for how many days I could not tell.
+
+For aught I knew, the fugitive had called for the woman's letter and left
+the capital. But he, being aware that the police were in search of him,
+would, I thought, if he called at the post office at all for letters,
+come there after dark. Hence, I had lost no time in mounting guard.
+
+My thoughts, as I stood there, were, indeed, bitter and confused.
+
+The woman Petre had not, as far as I could make out, made any
+incriminating statement to the police. Yet she undoubtedly believed me to
+be dead, and I reflected in triumph upon the unpleasant surprise in store
+for her when we met--as meet we undoubtedly would.
+
+The amazing problem, viewed briefly, stood thus: The girl, Marie Bracq,
+had been killed by a knife with a three-cornered blade, such knife having
+been and being still in the possession of Phrida, my well-beloved, whose
+finger-prints were found in the room near the body of the poor girl. The
+grave and terrible suspicion resting upon Phrida was increased and even
+corroborated by her firm resolve to preserve secrecy, her admissions, and
+her avowed determination to take her own life rather than face
+accusation.
+
+On the other hand, there was the mystery of the identity of Marie Bracq,
+the mystery of the identity of the man who had passed as Sir Digby
+Kemsley, the reason of his flight, if Phrida were guilty, and the mystery
+of the woman Petre, and her accomplices.
+
+Yes. The whole affair was one great and complete problem, the extent of
+which even Edwards, expert as he was, had, as yet, failed to discover.
+The more I tried to solve it the more hopelessly complicated did it
+become.
+
+I could see no light through the veil of mystery and suspicion in which
+my well-beloved had become enveloped.
+
+Why had that man--the man I now hated with so fierce an hatred--held her
+in the hollow of his unscrupulous hands? She had admitted that, whenever
+he ordered her to do any action, she was bound to obey.
+
+Yes. My love was that man's slave! I ground my teeth when the bitter
+thought flashed across my perturbed mind.
+
+Ah! what a poor, ignorant fool I had been! And how that scoundrel must
+have laughed at me!
+
+I was anxious to meet him face to face--to force from his lips the truth,
+to compel him to answer to me.
+
+And with that object I waited--waited in the cold and rain for three long
+hours, until at last the great doors were closed and locked for the
+night, and people ascended those steps no longer.
+
+Then I turned away faint and disheartened, chilled to the bone, and
+wearied out. A few steps along the Boulevard brought me to the hotel,
+where I ate some dinner, and retired to my room to fling myself upon the
+couch and think.
+
+Why was Phrida in such fear lest I should meet the man who held her so
+mysteriously and completely in his power? What could she fear from our
+meeting if she were, as I still tried to believe, innocent?
+
+Again, was it possible that after their dastardly attempt upon my life,
+Mrs. Petre and her accomplices had fled to join the fugitive? Were they
+with him? Perhaps so! Perhaps they were there in Brussels!
+
+The unfortunate victim, Marie Bracq, had probably been a Belgian. Bracq
+was certainly a Belgian name.
+
+The idea crossed my mind to go on the following day to the central Police
+Bureau I had noticed in the Rue de la Regence, and make inquiry whether
+they knew of any person of that name to be missing. It was not a bad
+suggestion, I reflected, and I felt greatly inclined to carry it out.
+
+Next day, I was up early, but recognised the futility of watching at the
+Poste Restante until the daylight faded. On the other hand, if Mrs.
+Petre was actually in that city, she would have no fear to go about
+openly. Yet, after due consideration, I decided not to go to the post
+office till twilight set in.
+
+The morning I spent idling on the Boulevards and in the cafes, but I
+became sick of such inactivity, for I was frantically eager and anxious
+to learn the truth.
+
+At noon I made up my mind, and taking a taxi, alighted at the Prefecture
+of Police, where, after some time, I was seen by the _Chef du Surete_, a
+grey-haired, dry-as-dust looking official--a narrow-eyed little man, in
+black, whose name was Monsieur Van Huffel, and who sat at a writing-table
+in a rather bare room, the walls of which were painted dark green. He
+eyed me with some curiosity as I entered and bowed.
+
+"Be seated, I pray, m'sieur," he said in French, indicating a chair on
+the opposite side of the table, and leaning back, placed his fingers
+together in a judicial attitude.
+
+The police functionary on the continent is possessed of an ultra-grave
+demeanour, and is always of a funereal type.
+
+"M'sieur wishes to make an inquiry, I hear?" he began.
+
+"Yes," I said. "I am very anxious to know whether you have any report of
+a young person named Marie Bracq being missing."
+
+"Marie Bracq!" he echoed in surprise, leaning forward towards me. "And
+what do you know, m'sieur, regarding Marie Bracq?"
+
+"I merely called to ascertain if any person of that name, is reported to
+you as missing," I said, much surprised at the effect which mention of
+the victim had produced upon him.
+
+"You are English, of course?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, m'sieur."
+
+"Well, curiously enough, only this morning I have had a similar inquiry
+from your Scotland Yard. They are asking if we are acquainted with any
+person named Marie Bracq. And we are, m'sieur," said Monsieur Van Huffel.
+"But first please explain what you know of her."
+
+"I have no personal acquaintance with her," was my reply. "I know of
+her--that is all. But it may not be the same person."
+
+He opened a drawer, turned over a quantity of papers, and a few seconds
+later produced a photograph which he passed across to me.
+
+It was a half-length cabinet portrait of a girl in a fur coat and hat.
+But no second glance was needed to tell me that it was actually the
+picture of the girl found murdered in London.
+
+"I see you recognise her, m'sieur," remarked the police official in a
+cold, matter-of-fact tone. "Please tell me all you know."
+
+I paused for a few seconds with the portrait in my hand. My object was to
+get all the facts I could from the functionary before me, and give him
+the least information possible.
+
+"Unfortunately, I know but very little," was my rather lame reply. "This
+lady was a friend of a lady friend of mine."
+
+"An English lady was your friend--eh?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"In London?"
+
+I nodded in the affirmative, while the shrewd little man who was
+questioning me sat twiddling a pen with his thin fingers.
+
+"And she told you of Marie Bracq? In what circumstances?"
+
+"Well," I said. "It is a long story. Before I tell you, I would like to
+ask you one question, m'sieur. Have you received from Scotland Yard the
+description of a man named Digby Kemsley--Sir Digby Kemsley--who is
+wanted for murder?"
+
+The dry little official with the parchment face repeated the name, then
+consulting a book at his elbow, replied:
+
+"Yes. We have circulated the description and photograph. It is believed
+by your police that his real name is Cane."
+
+"He has been in Brussels during the past few days to my own certain
+knowledge," I said.
+
+"In Brussels," echoed the man seated in the writing chair. "Where?"
+
+"Here, in your city. And I expect he is here now."
+
+"And you know him?" asked the _Chef du Surete_, his eyes betraying slight
+excitement.
+
+"Quite well. He was my friend."
+
+"I see he is accused of murdering a woman, name unknown, in his
+apartment," remarked the official.
+
+"The name is now known--it has been discovered by me, m'sieur. The name
+of the dead girl is Marie Bracq."
+
+The little man half rose from his chair and stared at me.
+
+"Is this the truth, m'sieur?" he cried. "Is this man named Kemsley, or
+Cane, accused of the assassination of Marie Bracq?"
+
+"Yes," I replied.
+
+"But this is most astounding," the Belgian functionary declared
+excitedly. "Marie Bracq dead! Ah! it cannot be possible, m'sieur! You do
+not know what this information means to us--what an enormous sensation it
+will cause if the press scents the truth. Tell me quickly--tell me all
+you know," he urged, at the same time taking up the telephone receiver
+from his table and then listening for a second, said in a quick,
+impetuous voice, "I want Inspector Fremy at once!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+FREMY, OF THE SURETE.
+
+
+After a few moments a short, stout, clean-shaven man with a round,
+pleasant face, and dressed in black, entered and bowed to his chief.
+
+He carried his soft felt hat and cane in his hand, and seated himself at
+the invitation of Van Huffel.
+
+"This is Inspector Fremy--Monsieur Edouard Royle, of Londres," exclaimed
+the _Chef du Surete_, introducing us.
+
+The detective, the most famous police officer in Belgium, who had been
+for years under Monsieur Hennion, in Paris, and had now transferred his
+services to Belgium, bowed and looked at me with his small, inquisitive
+eyes.
+
+"Monsieur Fremy. This gentleman has called with regard to the case of
+Marie Bracq," said Van Huffel in French.
+
+The detective was quickly interested.
+
+"She is dead--been assassinated in London," his chief went on.
+
+Fremy stared at the speaker in surprise, and the two men exchanged
+strange glances.
+
+"Monsieur tells me that the man, Sir Digby Kemsley, wanted by Scotland
+Yard, is accused of the murder of Marie Bracq--and, further," added Van
+Huffel, "the accused has been here in Brussels quite recently."
+
+"In Brussels?" echoed the round-faced man.
+
+"Yes," I said. "He has letters addressed to the Poste Restante in the
+name of Bryant." And I spelt it as the detective carefully wrote down the
+name.
+
+"He will not be difficult to find if he is still in Brussels," declared
+the inspector. "We had an inquiry from Scotland Yard asking if we had any
+report concerning Marie Bracq only this morning," he added.
+
+"It was sent to you by my friend, Inspector Edwards, and whom I am
+assisting in this inquiry," I explained.
+
+"You said that Marie Bracq was a friend of a lady friend of yours,
+M'sieur Royle," continued the _Chef du Surete_. "Will you do us the
+favour and tell us all you know concerning the tragedy--how the young
+lady lost her life?"
+
+"Ah! m'sieur," I replied, "I fear I cannot do that. How she was killed is
+still a mystery. Only within the past few hours have I been able to
+establish the dead girl's identity, and only then after narrowly escaping
+falling the victim of a most dastardly plot."
+
+"Perhaps you will be good enough to make a statement of all you know,
+M'sieur Royle," urged the grey-haired little man; "and if we can be of
+any service in bringing the culprit to justice, you may rely upon us."
+
+"But first, m'sieur, allow me to put observation upon the Poste
+Restante?" asked Fremy, rising and going to the telephone, where he got
+on to one of his subordinates, and gave him instructions in Flemish, a
+language I do not understand.
+
+Then, when he returned to his chair, I began to briefly relate what I
+knew concerning Sir Digby, and what had occurred, as far as I knew, on
+that fatal night of the sixth of January.
+
+I, of course, made no mention of the black suspicion cast upon the woman
+I loved, nor of the delivery of Digby's letter, my meeting with the woman
+Petre and its exciting results.
+
+Yet had I not met that woman I should still have been in ignorance of the
+identity of the dead girl, and, besides, I would not have met the
+sallow-faced Ali, or been aware of his methods--those methods so
+strangely similar to that adopted when Sir Digby Kemsley lost his life in
+Peru.
+
+The two police functionaries listened very attentively to my story
+without uttering a word.
+
+I had spoken of the woman Petre as being an accomplice of the man who was
+a fugitive, whereupon Fremy asked:
+
+"Do you suppose that the woman is with him?"
+
+"She has, I believe, left England, and, therefore, in all probability, is
+with him."
+
+"Are there any others of the gang--for there is, of course, a gang? Such
+people never act singly."
+
+"Two other men, as far as I know. One, a young man, who acts as servant,
+and the other, a tall, copper-faced man with sleek black hair--probably a
+Peruvian native. They call him Ali, and he pretends he is a Hindu."
+
+"A Hindu!" gasped the detective. "Why, I saw one talking to a rather
+stout Englishwoman at the Gare du Nord yesterday evening, just before
+the Orient Express left for the East!" He gave a quick description of
+both the man and the woman, and I at once said:
+
+"Yes, that was certainly Ali, and the woman was Mrs. Petre!"
+
+"They probably left by the Orient Express!" he cried, starting up, and
+crossing to his chief's table snatched up the orange-coloured official
+time table.
+
+"Ah! yes," he exclaimed, after searching a few moments. "The Orient
+Express will reach Wels, in Austria, at 2.17, no time for a telegram to
+get through. No. The next stop is Vienna--the Westbahnhof--at 6. I will
+wire to the Commissary of Police to board the train, and if they are in
+it, to detain them."
+
+"Excellent," remarked his chief, and, ringing a bell, a clerk appeared
+and took down the official telegram, giving the description of the woman
+and her accomplice.
+
+"I suppose the fugitive Englishman is not with them?" suggested the _Chef
+du Surete_.
+
+"I did not see him at the station--or, at least, I did not recognise
+anyone answering to the description," replied the inspector; "but we may
+as well add his description in the telegram and ask for an immediate
+reply."
+
+Thereupon the official description of Digby, as supplied to the Belgian
+police by Scotland Yard, was translated into French and placed in the
+message.
+
+After the clerk had left with it, Fremy, standing near the window,
+exclaimed:
+
+"Dieu! Had I but known who they were last night! But we may still get
+them. I will see the employee at the Poste Restante. This Monsieur
+Bryant, if he receives letters, may have given an address for them to be
+forwarded."
+
+After a slight pause, during which time the two functionaries conversed
+in Flemish, I turned to Van Huffel, and said:
+
+"I have related all I know, m'sieur; therefore, I beg of you to tell me
+something concerning the young person Marie Bracq. Was she a lady?"
+
+"A lady!" he echoed with a laugh. "Most certainly--the daughter of one of
+the princely houses of Europe."
+
+"What?" I gasped. "Tell me all about her!"
+
+But the dry-as-dust little man shook his grey head and replied:
+
+"I fear, m'sieur, in my position, I am not permitted to reveal secrets
+entrusted to me. And her identity is a secret--a great secret."
+
+"But I have discovered her identity where our English police had failed!"
+I protested. "Besides, am I not assisting you?"
+
+"Very greatly, and we are greatly indebted to you, M'sieur Royle," he
+replied, with exquisite politeness; "but it is not within my province as
+_Chef du Surete_ to tell you facts which have been revealed to me under
+pledge of secrecy."
+
+"Perhaps M'sieur Fremy may be able to tell me some facts," I suggested.
+"Remember, I am greatly interested in the mysterious affair."
+
+"From mere curiosity--eh?" asked Van Huffel with a smile.
+
+"No, m'sieur," was my earnest reply. "Because the arrest and condemnation
+of the assassin of Marie Bracq means all the world to me."
+
+"How?"
+
+I hesitated for some moments, then, hoping to enlist his sympathy, I told
+him the truth.
+
+"Upon the lady who is my promised wife rests a grave suspicion," I said,
+in a low, hard voice. "I decline to believe ill of her, or to think that
+she could be guilty of a crime, or----"
+
+"Of the assassination of Marie Bracq?" interrupted Van Huffel. "Do you
+suspect that? Is there any question as to the guilt of the man Kemsley?"
+he asked quickly.
+
+"No one has any suspicion of the lady in question," I said. "Only--only
+from certain facts within my knowledge and certain words which she
+herself has uttered, a terrible and horrible thought has seized me."
+
+"That Marie Bracq was killed by her hand--eh? Ah, m'sieur, I quite
+understand," he said. "And you are seeking the truth--in order to clear
+the woman you love?"
+
+"Exactly. That is the truth. That is why I am devoting all my time--all
+that I possess in order to solve the mystery and get at the actual
+truth."
+
+Fremy glanced at his chief, then at me.
+
+"Bien, m'sieur," exclaimed Van Huffel. "But there is no great necessity
+for you to know the actual identity of Marie Bracq. So long as you are
+able to remove the stigma from the lady in question, who is to be your
+wife, and to whom you are undoubtedly devoted, what matters whether the
+dead girl was the daughter of a prince or of a rag-picker? We will assist
+you in every degree in our power," he went on. "M'sieur Fremy will
+question the postal clerk, watch will be kept at the Poste Restante, at
+each of the railway stations, and in various other quarters, so that if
+any of the gang are in the city they cannot leave it without
+detection----"
+
+"Except by automobile," I interrupted.
+
+"Ah! I see m'sieur possesses forethought," he said with a smile. "Of
+course, they can easily hire an automobile and run to Namur, Ghent, or
+Antwerp--or even to one or other of the frontiers. But M'sieur Fremy is
+in touch with all persons who have motor-cars for hire. If they attempted
+to leave by car when once their descriptions are circulated, we should
+know in half an hour, while to cross the frontier by car would be
+impossible." Then, turning to the inspector, he said, "You will see that
+precautions are immediately taken that if they are here they cannot
+leave."
+
+"The matter is in my hands, m'sieur," answered the great detective
+simply.
+
+"Then m'sieur refuses to satisfy me as to the exact identity of Marie
+Bracq?" I asked Van Huffel in my most persuasive tone.
+
+"A thousand regrets, m'sieur, but as I have already explained, I am
+compelled to regard the secret entrusted to me."
+
+"I take it that her real name is not Marie Bracq?" I said, looking him in
+the face.
+
+"You are correct. It is not."
+
+"Is she a Belgian subject?" I asked.
+
+"No, m'sieur, the lady is not."
+
+"You said that a great sensation would be caused if the press knew the
+truth?"
+
+"Yes. I ask you to do me the favour, and promise me absolute secrecy in
+this matter. If we are to be successful in the arrest of these
+individuals, then the press must know nothing--not a syllable. Do I have
+your promise, M'sieur Royle?"
+
+"If you wish," I answered.
+
+"And we on our part will assist you to clear this lady who is to be your
+wife--but upon one condition."
+
+"And that is what?" I asked.
+
+"That you do not seek to inquire into the real identity of the poor young
+lady who has lost her life--the lady known to you and others as Marie
+Bracq," he said, looking straight into my eyes very seriously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+SHOWS EXPERT METHODS.
+
+
+It being the luncheon hour, Fremy and myself ate our meal at the highly
+popular restaurant, the Taverne Joseph, close to the Bourse, where the
+cooking is, perhaps, the best in Brussels and where the cosmopolitan, who
+knows where to eat, usually makes for when in the Belgian capital.
+
+After our coffee, cigarettes, and a "triple-sec" each, we strolled round
+to the General Post Office. As we approached that long flight of granite
+steps I knew so well, a poor-looking, ill-dressed man with the pinch of
+poverty upon his face, and his coat buttoned tightly against the cold,
+edged up to my companion on the pavement and whispered a word, afterwards
+hurrying on.
+
+"Our interesting friend has not been here yet," the detective remarked to
+me. "We will have a talk with the clerk at the Poste Restante."
+
+Entering the great hall, busy as it is all day, we approached the window
+where letters were distributed from A to L, and where sat the same
+pleasant, fair-haired man sorting letters.
+
+"Bon jour, m'sieur!" he exclaimed, when he caught sight of Fremy. "What
+weather, eh?"
+
+The great detective returned his greetings, and then putting his head
+further into the window so that others should not overhear, said in
+French:
+
+"I am looking for an individual, an Englishman, name of Bryant, and am
+keeping watch outside. He is wanted in England for a serious offence. Has
+he been here?"
+
+"Bryant?" repeated the clerk thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes," said Fremy, and then I spelt the name slowly.
+
+The clerk reached his hand to the pigeon-hole wherein were letters for
+callers whose names began with B, and placing them against a little block
+of black wood on the counter before him, looked eagerly through while we
+watched intently.
+
+Once or twice he stopped to scrutinise an address, but his fingers went
+on again through the letters to the end.
+
+"Nothing," he remarked laconically, replacing the packet in the
+pigeon-hole. "But there has been correspondence for him. I recollect--a
+thin-faced man, with grey hair and clean shaven. Yes. I remember him
+distinctly. He always called just before the office was closed."
+
+"When did he call last?" asked Fremy quickly.
+
+"The night before last, I think," was the man's answer. "A lady was with
+him--a rather stout English lady."
+
+We both started.
+
+"Did the lady ask for any letters?"
+
+"Yes. But I forget the name."
+
+"Petre is her right name," I interrupted. Then I suggested to Fremy:
+"Ask the other clerk to look through the letter 'P.'"
+
+"Non, m'sieur!" exclaimed the fair-haired employee. "The name she asked
+for was in my division. It was not P."
+
+"Then she must have asked for a name that was not her own," I said.
+
+"And it seems very much as though we have lost the gang by a few hours,"
+Fremy said disappointedly. "My own opinion is that they left Brussels by
+the Orient Express last night. They did not call at the usual time
+yesterday."
+
+"They may come this evening," I suggested.
+
+"Certainly they may. We shall, of course, watch," he replied.
+
+"When the man and woman called the day before yesterday," continued the
+employee, "there was a second man--a dark-faced Indian with them, I
+believe. He stood some distance away, and followed them out. It was his
+presence which attracted my attention and caused me to remember the
+incident."
+
+Fremy exchanged looks with me. I knew he was cursing his fate which had
+allowed the precious trio to slip through his fingers.
+
+Yet the thought was gratifying that when the express ran into the Great
+Westbahnhof at Vienna, the detectives would at once search it for the
+fugitives.
+
+My companion had told me that by eight o'clock we would know the result
+of the enquiry, and I was anxious for that hour to arrive.
+
+Already Fremy had ordered search to be made of arrivals at all hotels and
+pensions in the city for the name of Bryant, therefore, we could do
+nothing more than possess ourselves in patience. So we left the post
+office, his poverty-stricken assistant remaining on the watch, just as I
+had watched in the cold on the previous night.
+
+With my companion I walked round to the big Cafe Metropole on the
+Boulevard, and over our "bocks," at a table where we could not be
+overheard, we discussed the situation.
+
+That big cafe, one of the principal in Brussels, is usually deserted
+between the hours of three and four. At other times it is filled with
+business men discussing their affairs, or playing dominoes with that
+rattle which is characteristic of the foreign cafe.
+
+"Why is it," I asked him, "that your chief absolutely refuses to betray
+the identity of the girl Marie Bracq?"
+
+The round-faced man before me smiled thoughtfully as he idly puffed his
+cigarette. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he replied:
+
+"Well, m'sieur, to tell the truth, there is a very curious complication.
+In connection with the affair there is a scandal which must never be
+allowed to get out to the public."
+
+"Then you know the truth--eh?" I asked.
+
+"A portion of it. Not all," he replied. "But I tell you that the news of
+the young lady's death has caused us the greatest amazement and surprise.
+We knew that she was missing, but never dreamed that she had been the
+victim of an assassin."
+
+"But who are her friends?" I demanded.
+
+"Unfortunately, I am not permitted to say," was his response. "When they
+know the terrible truth they may give us permission to reveal the truth
+to you. Till then, my duty is to preserve their secret."
+
+"But I am all anxiety to know."
+
+"I quite recognise that, M'sieur Royle," he said. "I know how I should
+feel were I in your position. But duty is duty, is it not?"
+
+"I have assisted you, and I have given you a clue to the mystery," I
+protested.
+
+"And we, on our part, will assist you to clear the stigma resting upon
+the lady who is your promised wife," he said. "Whatever I can do in that
+direction, m'sieur may rely upon me."
+
+I was silent, for I saw that to attempt to probe further then the mystery
+of the actual identity of Marie Bracq was impossible. There seemed a
+conspiracy of silence against me.
+
+But I would work myself. I would exert all the cunning and ingenuity I
+possessed--nay, I would spend every penny I had in the world--in order to
+clear my well-beloved of that terrible suspicion that by her hand this
+daughter of a princely house had fallen.
+
+"Well," I asked at last. "What more can we do?"
+
+"Ah!" sighed the stout man, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke from his
+lips and drawing his glass. "What can we do? The Poste Restante is being
+watched, the records of all hotels and pensions for the past month are
+being inspected, and we have put a guard upon the Orient Express. No! We
+can do nothing," he said, "until we get a telegram from Vienna. Will you
+call at the Prefecture of Police at eight o'clock to-night? I will be
+there to see you."
+
+I promised, then having paid the waiter, we strolled out of the cafe, and
+parted on the Boulevard, he going towards the Nord Station, while I went
+along in the opposite direction to the Grand.
+
+For the appointed hour I waited in greatest anxiety. What if the trio had
+been arrested in Vienna?
+
+That afternoon I wrote a long and encouraging letter to Phrida, telling
+her that I was exerting every effort on her behalf and urging her to keep
+a stout heart against her enemies, who now seemed to be in full flight.
+
+At last, eight o'clock came, and I entered the small courtyard of the
+Prefecture of Police, where a uniformed official conducted me up to the
+room of Inspector Fremy.
+
+The big, merry-faced man rose as I entered and placed his cigar in an ash
+tray.
+
+"Bad luck, m'sieur!" he exclaimed in French. "They left Brussels in the
+Orient, as I suspected--all three of them. Here is the reply," and he
+handed me an official telegram in German, which translated into English
+read:
+
+    "To Prefet of Police, Brussels, from Prefet of Police, Vienna:
+
+    "In response to telegram of to-day's date, the three persons
+    described left Brussels by Orient Express, travelled to Wels,
+    and there left the train at 2.17 this afternoon. Telephonic
+    inquiry of police at Wels results that they left at 4.10 by the
+    express for Paris."
+
+"I have already telegraphed to Paris," Fremy said. "But there is time, of
+course, to get across to Paris, and meet the express from Constantinople
+on its arrival there. Our friends evidently know their way about the
+Continent!"
+
+"Shall we go to Paris," I suggested eagerly, anticipating in triumph
+their arrest as they alighted at the Gare de l'Est. I had travelled by
+the express from Vienna on one occasion about a year before, and
+remembered that it arrived in Paris about nine o'clock in the morning.
+
+"With the permission of my chief I will willingly accompany you,
+m'sieur," replied the detective, and, leaving me, he was absent for five
+minutes or so, while I sat gazing around his bare, official-looking
+bureau, where upon the walls were many police notices and photographs of
+wanted persons, "rats d'hotel," and other malefactors. Brussels is one of
+the most important police centres in Europe, as well as being the centre
+of the political secret service of the Powers.
+
+On his return he said:
+
+"Bien, m'sieur. We leave the Midi Station at midnight and arrive in Paris
+at half-past five. I will engage sleeping berths, and I will telephone to
+my friend, Inspector Dricot, at the Prefecture, to send an agent of the
+brigade mobile to meet us. Non d'un chien! What a surprise it will be for
+the fugitives. But," he added, "they are clever and elusive. Fancy, in
+order to go from Brussels to Paris they travel right away into Austria,
+and with through tickets to Belgrade, too! Yes, they know the routes on
+the Continent--the routes used by the international thieves, I mean. The
+Wels route by which they travelled, is one of them."
+
+Then I left him, promising to meet him at the station ten minutes before
+midnight. I had told Edwards I would notify him by wire any change of
+address, therefore, on leaving the Prefecture of Police, I went to the
+Grand and from there sent a telegram to him at Scotland Yard, telling him
+that I should call at the office of the inspector of police at the East
+railway station in Paris at ten on the following morning--if he had
+anything to communicate.
+
+All through that night we travelled on in the close, stuffy _wagon-lit_
+by way of Mons to Paris arriving with some three hours and a half to
+spare, which we idled in one of the all-night cafes near the station,
+having been met by a little ferret-eyed Frenchman, named Jappe, who had
+been one of Fremy's subordinates when he was in the French service.
+
+Just before nine o'clock, after our _cafe-au-lait_ in the buffet, we
+walked out upon the long arrival platform where the Orient Express from
+its long journey from Constantinople was due.
+
+It was a quarter of an hour late, but at length the luggage porters began
+to assemble, and with bated breath I watched the train of dusty
+sleeping-cars slowly draw into the terminus.
+
+In a moment Fremy and his colleague were all eyes, while I stood near the
+engine waiting the result of their quest.
+
+But in five minutes the truth was plain. Fremy was in conversation with
+one of the brown-uniformed conductors, who told him that the three
+passengers we sought did join at Wels, but had left again at Munich on
+the previous evening!
+
+My heart sank. Our quest was in vain. They had again eluded us!
+
+"I will go to Munich," Fremy said at once. "I may find trace of them
+yet."
+
+"And I will accompany you!" I exclaimed eagerly. "They must not escape
+us."
+
+But my plans were at once altered, and Fremy was compelled to leave for
+Germany alone, for at the police office at the station half an hour
+later I received a brief message from Edwards urging me to return to
+London immediately, and stating that an important discovery had been
+made.
+
+So I drove across to the Gare du Nord, and left for London by the next
+train.
+
+What, I wondered, had been discovered?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+EDWARDS BECOMES MORE PUZZLED.
+
+
+At half-past seven on that same evening, Edwards, in response to a
+telegram I sent him from Calais, called upon me in Albemarle Street.
+
+He looked extremely grave when he entered my room. After Haines had taken
+his hat and coat and we were alone, he said in a low voice:
+
+"Mr. Royle, I have a rather painful communication to make to you. I much
+regret it--but the truth must be faced."
+
+"Well?" I asked, in quick apprehension; "what is it?"
+
+"We have received from an anonymous correspondent--who turns out to be
+the woman Petre, whom you know--a letter making the gravest accusations
+against Miss Shand. She denounces her as the assassin of the girl Marie
+Bracq."
+
+"It's a lie! a foul, abominable lie!" I cried angrily. "I told you that
+she would seek to condemn the woman I love."
+
+"Yes, I recollect. But it is a clue which I am in duty bound to
+investigate."
+
+"You have not been to Miss Shand--you have not yet questioned her?" I
+gasped anxiously.
+
+"Not before I saw you," he replied. "I may as well tell you at once that
+I had some slight suspicion that the young lady in question was
+acquainted with your friend who posed as Sir Digby."
+
+"How?" I asked.
+
+He hesitated. "Well, I thought it most likely that as you and he were
+such great friends, you might have introduced them," he said, rather
+lamely.
+
+"But surely you are not going to believe the words of this woman Petre?"
+I cried. "Listen, and I will tell you how she has already endeavoured to
+take my life, and thus leave Miss Shand at her mercy."
+
+Then, as he sat listening, his feet stretched towards the fender, I
+related in detail the startling adventure which befel me at Colchester.
+
+"Extraordinary, Mr. Royle!" he exclaimed, in blank surprise. "Why, in
+heaven's name, didn't you tell me this before! The snake! Why, that is
+exactly the method used by Cane to secure the death of the real Sir
+Digby!"
+
+"What was the use of telling you?" I queried. "What is the use even now?
+The woman has fled and, at the same time, takes a dastardly revenge upon
+the woman I love."
+
+"Tell me, Mr. Royle," said the inspector, who, in his dinner coat and
+black tie, presented the appearance of the West End club man rather than
+a police official. "Have you yourself any suspicion that Miss Shand has
+knowledge of the affair?"
+
+His question non-plussed me for the moment.
+
+"Ah! I see you hesitate!" he exclaimed, shrewdly. "You have a
+suspicion--now admit it."
+
+He pressed me, and seeing that my demeanour had, alas! betrayed my
+thoughts, I was compelled to speak the truth.
+
+"Yes," I said, in a low, strained voice. "To tell you the truth,
+Edwards, there are certain facts which I am utterly unable to
+understand--facts which Miss Shand has admitted to me. But I still refuse
+to believe that she is a murderess."
+
+"Naturally," he remarked, and I thought I detected a slightly sarcastic
+curl of the lips. "But though Miss Shand is unaware of it, I have made
+certain secret inquiries--inquiries which have given astounding results,"
+he said slowly. "I have, unknown to the young lady, secured some of her
+finger-prints, which, on comparison, have coincided exactly with those
+found upon the glass-topped table at Harrington Gardens, and also with
+those which you brought to me so mysteriously." And he added, "To be
+quite frank, it was that action of yours which first aroused my suspicion
+regarding Miss Shand. I saw that you suspected some one--that you were
+trying to prove to your own satisfaction that your theory was wrong."
+
+I held my breath, cursing myself for such injudicious action.
+
+"Again, this letter from the woman Petre has corroborated my
+apprehensions," he went on. "Miss Shand was a friend of the man who
+called himself Sir Digby. She met him clandestinely, unknown, to
+you--eh?" he asked.
+
+"Please do not question me, Edwards," I implored. "This is all so
+extremely painful to me."
+
+"I regret, but it is my duty, Mr. Royle," he replied in a tone of
+sympathy. "Is not my suggestion the true one?"
+
+I admitted that it was.
+
+Then, in quick, brief sentences I told him of my visit to the Prefecture
+of Police in Brussels and all that I had discovered regarding the
+fugitives, to which he listened most attentively.
+
+"They have not replied to my inquiry concerning the dead girl Marie
+Bracq," he remarked presently.
+
+"They know her," I replied. "Van Huffel, the _Chef du Surete_, stood
+aghast when I told him that the man Kemsley was wanted by you on a charge
+of murdering her. He declared that the allegation utterly astounded him,
+and that the press must have no suspicion of the affair, as a great
+scandal would result."
+
+"But who is the girl?" he inquired quickly.
+
+"Van Huffel refused to satisfy my curiosity. He declared that her
+identity was a secret which he was not permitted to divulge, but he added
+when I pressed him, that she was a daughter of one of the princely houses
+of Europe!"
+
+Edwards stared at me.
+
+"I wonder what is her real name?" he said, reflectively. "Really, Mr.
+Royle, the affair grows more and more interesting and puzzling."
+
+"It does," I said, and then I related in detail my fruitless journey to
+Paris, and how the three fugitives had alighted at Munich from the
+westbound express from the Near East, and disappeared.
+
+"Fremy, whom I think you know, has gone after them," I added.
+
+"If Fremy once gets on the scent he'll, no doubt, find them," remarked my
+companion. "He's one of the most astute and clever detectives in Europe.
+So, if the case is in his hands, I'm quite contented that all will be
+done to trace them."
+
+For two hours we sat together, while I related what the girl at Melbourne
+House had told me, and, in fact, put before him practically all that I
+have recorded in the foregoing pages.
+
+Then, at last, I stood before him boldly and asked:
+
+"In face of all this, can you suspect Miss Shand? Is she not that man's
+victim?"
+
+He did not speak for several moments; his gaze was fixed upon the fire.
+
+"Well," he replied, stirring himself at last, "to tell you the truth, Mr.
+Royle, I'm just as puzzled as you are. She may be the victim of this man
+we know to be an unscrupulous adventurer, but, at the same time, her hand
+may have used that triangular-bladed knife which we have been unable to
+find."
+
+The knife! I held my breath. Was it not lying openly upon that table in
+the corner of the drawing-room at Cromwell Road? Would not analysis
+reveal upon it a trace of human blood? Would not its possession in itself
+convict her?
+
+"Then what is your intention?" I asked, at last.
+
+"To see her and put a few questions, Mr. Royle," he answered slowly. "I
+know how much this must pain you, bearing in mind your deep affection for
+the young lady, but, unfortunately, it is my duty, and I cannot see how
+such a course can be avoided."
+
+"No. I beg of you not to do this," I implored. "Keep what observation you
+like, but do not approach her--at least, not yet. In her present frame of
+mind, haunted by the shadow of the crime and hemmed in by suspicion of
+which she cannot clear herself, it would be fatal."
+
+"Fatal! I don't understand you."
+
+"Well--she would take her own life," I said in a low whisper.
+
+"She has threatened--eh?" he asked.
+
+I nodded in the affirmative.
+
+"Then does not that, in itself, justify my decision to see and question
+her?"
+
+"No, it does not!" I protested. "She is not guilty, but this terrible
+dread and anxiety is, I know, gradually unbalancing her brain. She is a
+girl of calm determination, and if she believed that you suspected her
+she would be driven by sheer terror to carry out her threat."
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Most women threaten suicide at one time or other of their lives. Their
+thoughts seem to revert to romance as soon as they find themselves in a
+corner. No," he added. "I never believe in threats of suicide in either
+man or woman. Life is always too precious for that, and especially if a
+woman loves, as she does."
+
+"You don't know her."
+
+"No, but I know women, Mr. Royle--I know all their idiosyncrasies as well
+as most men, I think," he said.
+
+I begged him not to approach my well-beloved, but he was inexorable.
+
+"I must see her--and I must know the truth," he declared decisively.
+
+But I implored again of him, begging him to spare her--begged her life.
+
+I had gripped him by the hand, and looking into his face I pointed out
+that I had done and was doing all I could to elucidate the mystery.
+
+"At least," I cried, "you will wait until the fugitives are arrested!"
+
+"There is only one--the impostor," he said. "There is no charge against
+the others."
+
+"Then I will lay a charge to-night against the woman Petre and the man
+Ali of attempting to kill me." I said. "The two names can then be added
+to the warrant."
+
+"Very well," he said. "We'll go to the Yard, and I will take your
+information."
+
+"And you will not approach Phrida until you hear something from
+Brussels--eh?" I asked persuasively. "In the meantime, I will do all I
+can. Leave Miss Shand to me."
+
+"If I did it would be a grave dereliction of duty," he replied slowly.
+
+"But is it a dereliction of duty to disregard allegations made by a woman
+who has fled in that man's company, and who is, we now know, his
+accomplice?" I protested. "Did not you yourself tell me that you, at
+Scotland Yard, always regarded lightly any anonymous communication?"
+
+"As a rule we do. But past history shows that many have been genuine," he
+said. "Before the commission of nearly all the Jack the Ripper crimes
+there were anonymous letters, written in red ink. We have them now framed
+and hanging up in the Black Museum."
+
+"But such letters are not denunciations. They were promises of a further
+sensation," I argued. "The triumphant and gleeful declarations of the mad
+but mysterious assassin. No. Promise me, Edwards, that you will postpone
+this projected step of yours, which can, in any case, even though my love
+be innocent, only result in dire disaster."
+
+He saw how earnest was my appeal, and realised, I think, the extreme
+gravity of the situation, and how deeply it concerned me. He seemed,
+also, to recognise that in discovering the name of the victim and in
+going a second time to Brussels, I had been able to considerably advance
+the most difficult inquiry; therefore, after still another quarter of an
+hour of persuasion, I induced him to withhold.
+
+"Very well," he replied, "though I can make no definite promise, Mr.
+Royle. I will not see the lady before I have again consulted with you.
+But," he added, "I must be frank with you. I shall continue my
+investigations in that quarter, and most probably watch will be kept upon
+her movements."
+
+"And if she recognises that you suspect her?" I gasped.
+
+"Ah!" he exclaimed, with a slight shrug of the shoulders. "I cannot
+accept any responsibility for that. How can I?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+FURTHER ADMISSIONS.
+
+
+"The secret of Digby Kemsley is still a secret, and will ever remain a
+secret."
+
+I recollected Mrs. Petre uttering those words to me as that dark-faced
+villain Ali had forced my inert head down upon the table.
+
+Well, that same night when I had begged of Edwards my love's life, I sat
+in his room at Scotland Yard and there made a formal declaration of what
+had happened to me on that well-remembered night outside Colchester. I
+formally demanded the arrest of the woman, of Ali, and of the young
+man-servant, all of whom had conspired to take my life.
+
+The clerk calmly took down my statement, which Edwards read over to me,
+and I duly signed it.
+
+Then, gripping his hand, I went forth into Parliament Street, and took a
+taxi to Cromwell Road.
+
+I had not seen Phrida for several days, and she was delighted at my
+visit.
+
+She presented a pale, frail, little figure in her simple gown of pale
+pink ninon, cut slightly open at the neck and girdled narrow with
+turquoise blue. Her skirt was narrow, as was the mode, and her long
+white arms were bare to the shoulders.
+
+She had been curled up before the fire reading when I entered, but she
+jumped up with an expression of welcome upon her lips.
+
+But not until her mother had bade me good-night and discreetly withdrew,
+did she refer to the subject which I knew obsessed her by night and by
+day.
+
+"Well, Teddy," she asked, when I sat alone with her upon the pale green
+silk-covered couch, her little hand in mine, "Where have you been? Why
+have you remained silent?"
+
+"I've been in Brussels," I replied, and then, quite frankly, I explained
+my quest after the impostor.
+
+She sat looking straight before her, her eyes fixed like a person, in a
+dream. At last she spoke:
+
+"I thought," she said in a strained voice, "that you would have shown
+greater respect for me than to do that--when you knew it would place you
+in such great peril!"
+
+"I have acted in your own interests, dearest," I replied, placing my arm
+tenderly about her neck. "Ah! in what manner you will never know."
+
+"My interests!" she echoed, in despair. "Have I not told you that on the
+day Digby Kemsley is arrested I intend to end my life," and as she drew a
+long breath, I saw in her eyes that haunted, terrified look which told me
+that she was driven to desperation.
+
+"No, no," I urged, stroking her hair with tenderness. "I know all that
+you must suffer, Phrida, but I am your friend and your protector. I will
+never rest until I get at the truth."
+
+"Ah! Revelation of the truth will, alas! prove my undoing!" she
+whispered, in a voice full of fear. "You don't know, dear, how your
+relentless chase of that man is placing me in danger."
+
+"But he is an adventurer, an impostor--a fugitive from justice, and he
+merits punishment!" I cried.
+
+"Ah! And if you say that," she cried, wildly starting to her feet. "So do
+I! So do I!"
+
+"Come, calm yourself, dearest," I said, placing my hand upon her shoulder
+and forcing her back into her chair. "You are upset to-night," and I
+kissed her cold, white lips. "May I ring for Mallock? Wouldn't you like
+to go to your room?"
+
+She drew a deep sigh, and with an effort repressed the tears welling in
+her deep-set, haunted eyes.
+
+"Yes," she faltered in her emotion. "Perhaps I had better. I--I cannot
+bear this strain much longer. You told me that the police did not suspect
+me, but--but, now I know they do. A man has been watching outside the
+house all day for two days past. Yes," she sobbed, "they will come, come
+to arrest me, but they will only find that--that I've cheated them!"
+
+"They will not come," I answered her. "I happen to know more than I can
+tell you, Phrida," I whispered. "You need have no fear of arrest."
+
+"But that woman Petre! She may denounce me--she will, I know!"
+
+"They take no notice of such allegations at Scotland Yard. They receive
+too much wild correspondence," I declared. "No, dearest, go to bed and
+rest--rest quite assured that at present you are in no peril, and,
+further, that every hour which elapses brings us nearer a solution of the
+tragic and tantalising problem. May I ring for Mallock?" I asked, again
+kissing her passionately upon those lips, hard and cold as marble, my
+heart full of sympathy for her in her tragic despair.
+
+"Yes," she responded faintly in a voice so low that I could hardly catch
+it. So I crossed and rang the bell for her maid.
+
+Then, when she had kissed me good-night, looking into my eyes with a
+strange expression of wistfulness, and left the room, I dashed across to
+that little table whereon the ivory-hilted knife was lying and seized the
+important piece of evidence, so that it might not fall into Edwards'
+hands.
+
+I held it within my fingers, and taking it across to the fireplace,
+examined it in the strong light. The ivory was yellow and old, carved
+with the escutcheon bearing the three balls, the arms of the great House
+of Medici. The blade, about seven inches long, was keen, triangular, and,
+at the point, sharp as a needle. Into it the rust of centuries had eaten,
+though in parts it was quite bright, evidently due to recent cleaning.
+
+I was examining it for any stains that might be upon it--stains of the
+life-blood of Marie Bracq. But I could find none. No. They had been
+carefully removed, yet chemical analysis would, without doubt, reveal
+inevitable traces of the ghastly truth.
+
+I had my back to the door, and was still holding the deadly weapon in my
+hand, scrutinising it closely, when I heard a slight movement behind me,
+and turning, confronted Phrida, standing erect and rigid, like a statue.
+
+Her face was white as death, her thin hands clenched, her haunted eyes
+fixed upon me.
+
+"Ah! I see!" she cried hoarsely. "You know--eh? You _know_!"
+
+"No. I do not _know_, Phrida," was my deep reply, as I snatched her hand
+and held it in my own. "I only surmise that this knife was used on that
+fatal night, because of the unusual shape of its blade--because of the
+medical evidence that by such a knife Marie Bracq was killed."
+
+She drew a deep breath.
+
+"And you are taking it as evidence--against me!"
+
+"Evidence against you, darling!" I echoed in reproach. "Do you think that
+I, the man who loves you, is endeavouring to convict you of a crime? No.
+Leave matters to me. I am your friend--not your enemy!"
+
+A silence fell between us. She neither answered nor did she move for some
+moments. Then she said in a deep wistful tone:
+
+"Ah! if I could only believe that you are!"
+
+"But I am," I declared vehemently. "I love you, Phrida, with all my soul,
+and I will never believe ill of you--never, never!"
+
+"How can you do otherwise in these terrible circumstances?" she queried,
+with a strange contraction of her brows.
+
+"I love you, and because I love you so dearly--because you are all the
+world to me," I said, pressing her to my heart, "I will never accept what
+an enemy may allege--never, until you are permitted to relate your own
+story."
+
+I still held the weapon in my hand, and I saw that her eyes wandered to
+it.
+
+"Ah! Teddy!" she cried, with sudden emotion. "How can I thank you
+sufficiently for those words? Take that horrible thing and hide it--hide
+it anywhere from my eyes, for sight of it brings all the past back to me.
+Yet--yet I was afraid," she went on, "I dare not hide it, lest any one
+should ask what had become of it, and thus suspicions might be aroused.
+Ah! every time I have come into this room it has haunted me--I seem to
+see that terrible scene before my eyes--how--how they----"
+
+But she broke off short, and covering her face with both hands added,
+after a few seconds' silence:
+
+"Ah! yes, take it away--never let me gaze upon it again. But I beg of
+you, dear, to--to preserve my secret--my terrible secret!"
+
+And she burst into tears.
+
+"Not a single word shall pass my lips, neither shall a single soul see
+this knife. I will take it and cast it away--better to the bottom of the
+Thames. To-night it shall be in a place where it can never be found. So
+go to your room, and rest assured that you, darling, have at least one
+friend--myself."
+
+I felt her breast heave and fall as I held her in my strong embrace.
+
+Then without words she raised her white, tear-stained face and kissed me
+long and fondly; afterwards she left me, and in silence tottered from the
+room, closing the door after her.
+
+I still held the knife in my hand--the weapon by which the terrible deed
+had been perpetrated.
+
+What could I think? What would you, my reader, have thought if the woman
+you love stood in the same position as Phrida Shand--which God forbid?
+
+I stood reflecting, gazing upon the antique poignard. Then slowly and
+deliberately I made up my mind, and placing the unsheathed knife in my
+breast pocket I went out into the hall, put on my coat and hat, and left
+the house.
+
+Half an hour later I halted casually upon Westminster Bridge, and when no
+one was near, cast the ancient "Misericordia" into the dark flowing
+waters of the river, knowing that Edwards and his inquisitive assistants
+could never recover it as evidence against my love.
+
+Four days later I received a letter from Fremy, dated from the Hotel
+National at Strasbourg, stating that he had traced the fugitives from
+Munich to the latter city, but there he had lost all trace of them. He
+believed they had gone to Paris, and with his chief's permission he was
+leaving for the French capital that night.
+
+Weeks passed--weeks of terror and apprehension for my love, and of
+keenest anxiety for myself.
+
+The month of May went by, spring with all her beauties appeared in the
+parks and faded in the heat and dust, while the London season commenced.
+Men who were otherwise never seen in town, strolled up and down St.
+James's Street and Piccadilly, smart women rode in the Row in the morning
+and gave parties at night, while the usual crop of charitable functions,
+society scandals, Parliamentary debates, and puff-paragraphs in the
+papers about Lady Nobody's dances showed the gay world of London to be in
+full swing.
+
+My mantelshelf was well decorated with cards of invitation, for,
+nowadays, the bachelor in London can have a really good time if he
+chooses, yet I accepted few, spending most of my days immersed in
+business--in order to occupy my thoughts--while my evenings I spent at
+Cromwell Road.
+
+For weeks Phrida had not referred to the tragedy in any way, and I had
+been extremely careful to avoid the subject. Yet, from her pale, drawn
+countenance--so unlike her former self--I knew how recollection of it
+ever haunted her, and what dread terror had gripped her young heart.
+
+Mrs. Shand, ignorant of the truth, had many times expressed to me
+confidentially, fear that her daughter was falling into a bad state of
+health; and, against Phrida's wishes, had called in the family doctor,
+who, likewise ignorant, had ordered her abroad.
+
+"Get her out of the dullness of this road, Mrs. Shand," he had said. "She
+wants change and excitement. Take her to some gay place on the
+Continent--Dinard, Trouville, Aix-les-Bains, Ostend--some place where
+there is brightness and movement. A few weeks there will effect a great
+change in her, I'm certain."
+
+But Phrida refused to leave London, though I begged her to follow the
+doctor's advice, and even offered to accompany them.
+
+As far as I could gather, Van Huffel, in Brussels, had given up the
+search for the fugitives; though, the more I reflected upon his replies
+to my questions as to the real identity of Marie Bracq, the more
+remarkable they seemed.
+
+Who was she? That was the great problem uppermost always in my mind.
+Phrida had declared that she only knew her by that name--that she knew
+nothing further concerning her. And so frankly had she said this, that I
+believed her.
+
+Yet I argued that, if the death of Marie Bracq was of such serious moment
+as the _Chef du Surete_ had declared, then he surely would not allow the
+inquiry to drop without making the most strenuous efforts to arrest those
+suspected of the crime.
+
+But were his suspicions, too, directed towards Phrida? Had he, I
+wondered, been in consultation with Edwards, and had the latter, in
+confidence, revealed to him his own theory?
+
+I held my breath each time that idea crossed my mind--as it did so very
+often.
+
+From Fremy I had had several letters dated from the Prefecture of Police,
+Brussels, but the tenor of all was the same--nothing to report.
+
+One thing gratified me. Edwards had not approached my love, although I
+knew full well, just as Phrida did, that day after day observation was
+being kept upon the house in Cromwell Road, yet perhaps only because the
+detective's duty demanded it. At least I tried to think so.
+
+Still the one fact remained that, after all our efforts--the efforts of
+Scotland Yard, of the Belgian police, and of my own eager inquiries--a
+solution of the problem was as far off as ever.
+
+Somewhere there existed a secret--a secret that, as Phrida had declared
+to me, was inviolable.
+
+Would it ever be revealed? Would the ghastly truth ever be laid bare?
+
+The affair of Harrington Gardens was indeed a mystery of London--as
+absolute and perfect an enigma of crime as had ever been placed before
+that committee of experts at Scotland Yard--the Council of Seven.
+
+Even they had failed to find a solution! How, then, could I ever hope to
+be successful?
+
+When I thought of it, I paced my lonely room in a frenzy of despair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+THE SELLER OF SHAWLS.
+
+
+After much eloquent persuasion on my part, and much straight talking on
+the part of the spectacled family doctor, and of Mrs. Shand, Phrida at
+last, towards the last days of June, allowed us to take her to Dinard,
+where, at the Hotel Royal, we spent three pleasant weeks, making many
+automobile excursions to Trouville, to Dinan, and other places in the
+neighbourhood.
+
+The season had scarcely commenced, nevertheless the weather was perfect,
+and gradually I had the satisfaction of seeing the colour return to the
+soft cheeks of my well-beloved.
+
+Before leaving London I had, of course, seen Edwards, and, knowing that
+watch was being kept upon her, I accepted the responsibility of reporting
+daily upon my love's movements, she being still under suspicion.
+
+"I ought not to do this, Mr. Royle," he had said, "but the circumstances
+are so unusual that I feel I may stretch a point in the young lady's
+favour without neglecting my duty. And after all," he added, "we have no
+direct evidence--at least not sufficient to justify an arrest."
+
+"Why doesn't that woman Petre come forward and boldly make her statement
+personally?" I had queried.
+
+"Well, she may know that you are still alive"--he laughed--"and if
+so--she's afraid to go further."
+
+I questioned him regarding his inquiries concerning the actual identity
+of Marie Bracq, but he only raised his eyebrows and replied:
+
+"My dear Mr. Royle, I know nothing more than you do. They no doubt
+possess some information in Brussels, but they are careful to keep it
+there."
+
+And so I had accompanied Phrida and her mother, hoping that the change of
+air and scenery might cause her to forget the shadow of guilt which now
+seemed to rest upon her and to crush all life and hope from her young
+heart.
+
+Tiring of Dinard, Mrs. Shand hired a big, grey touring-car, and together
+we went first through Brittany, then to Vannes, Nantes, and up to Tours,
+afterwards visiting the famous chateaux of Touraine, Amboise Loches, and
+the rest, the weather being warm and delightful, and the journey one of
+the pleasantest and most picturesque in Europe.
+
+When July came, Phrida appeared greatly improved in both health and
+spirits. Yet was it only pretence? Did she in the lonely watches of the
+night still suffer that mental torture which I knew, alas! she had
+suffered, for her own deep-set eyes, and pale, sunken cheeks had revealed
+to me the truth. Each time I sat down and wrote that confidential note to
+Edwards, I hated myself--that I was set to spy upon the woman I loved
+with all my heart and soul.
+
+Would the truth never be told? Would the mystery of that tragic January
+night in South Kensington never be elucidated?
+
+One evening in the busy but pleasant town of Tours, Mrs. Shand having
+complained of headache after a long, all-day excursion in the car, Phrida
+and I sauntered out after dinner, and after a brief walk sat down outside
+one of those big cafes where the tables are placed out beneath the leafy
+chestnut trees of the boulevard.
+
+The night was hot and stifling, and as we sat there chatting over our
+coffee amid a crowd of people enjoying the air after the heat of the day,
+a dark-faced, narrow-eyed Oriental in a fez, with a number of Oriental
+rugs and cheap shawls, came and stood before us, in the manner of those
+itinerant vendors who haunt Continental cafes.
+
+He said nothing, but, standing like a bronze statue, he looked hard at me
+and pointed solemnly at a quantity of lace which he held in his left
+hand.
+
+"No, I want nothing," I replied in French, shaking my head.
+
+"Ve-ry cheep, sare!" he exclaimed in broken English at last. "You no buy
+for laidee?" and he showed his white teeth with a pleasant grin.
+
+I again replied in the negative, perhaps a little impatiently, when
+suddenly Phrida whispered to me:
+
+"Why, we saw this same man in Dinard, and in another place--I forget
+where. He haunts us!"
+
+"These men go from town to town," I explained. "They make a complete
+round of France."
+
+Then I suddenly recollected that the man's face was familiar. I had seen
+him outside the Piccadilly Tube Station on the night of my tryst with
+Mrs. Petre!
+
+"Yes, laidee!" exclaimed the man, who had overheard Phrida's words. "I
+see you Dinard--Hotel Royal--eh?" he said with a smile. "Will you buy my
+lace--seelk lace; ve-ry cheep?"
+
+"I know it's cheap," I laughed; "but we don't want it."
+
+Nevertheless, he placed it upon the little marble-topped table for our
+inspection, and then bending, he whispered into my ear a question:
+
+"Mee-ster Royle you--eh?"
+
+"Yes," I said, starting.
+
+"I want see you, to-night, alone. Say no-ting to laidee till I see
+you--outside your hotel eleven o'clock, sare--eh?"
+
+I sat staring at him in blank surprise, but in a low voice I consented.
+
+Then, very cleverly he asked in his normal voice, looking at me with his
+narrow eyes, with dark brows meeting:
+
+"You no buy at that price--eh? Ah!" and he sighed as he gathered up his
+wares: "Cheep, laidee--very goot and cheep!"
+
+And bowing, he slung them upon the heavy pile already on his shoulder and
+stalked away.
+
+"What did he say?" Phrida asked when he had gone.
+
+"Oh, only wanted me to buy the lot for five francs!" I replied, for he
+had enjoined secrecy, and I knew not but he might be an emissary of Fremy
+or of Edwards. Therefore I deemed it best for the time to evade her
+question.
+
+Still, both excited and puzzled, I eagerly kept the appointment.
+
+When I emerged from the hotel on the stroke of eleven I saw the man
+without his pile of merchandise standing in the shadow beneath a tree, on
+the opposite side of the boulevard, awaiting me.
+
+Quickly I crossed to him, and asked:
+
+"Well, what do you want with me?"
+
+"Ah, Mee-ster Royle! I have watched you and the young laidee a long time.
+You travel so quickly, and I go by train from town to town--slowly."
+
+"Yes, but why?" I asked, as we strolled together under the trees.
+
+"I want to tell you some-zing, mee-ster. I no Arabe--I Senos, from
+Huacho."
+
+"From Huacho!" I gasped quickly.
+
+"Yees. My dead master he English--Sir Digby Kemsley!"
+
+"Sir Digby!" I cried. "And you were his servant. You knew this man
+Cane--why, you were the man who heard your master curse the man who
+placed the deadly reptile against his face. You made a statement to the
+police, did you not?" I asked frantically.
+
+"Yees, Mee-ster Royle--I did! I know a lot," he replied in his slow way,
+stalking along in the short breeches, red velvet jacket, and fez of an
+Oriental.
+
+"You will tell me, Senos?" I said. "You will tell me everything?" I
+urged. "Tell me all that you know!"
+
+He grinned in triumph, saying:
+
+"I know a lot--I know all. Cane killed my master--killed him with the
+snake--he and Luis together. I know--I saw. But the Englishman is always
+great, and his word believed by the commissary of police--not the word of
+Senos. Oh, no! but I have followed; I have watched. I have been beside
+Cane night and day when he never dream I was near. I tell the young lady
+all the truth, and--ah!--she tell him after I beg her to be silent."
+
+"But where is Cane now?" I asked eagerly. "Do you know?"
+
+"The 'Red' Englishman--he with Madame Petre and Luis--he call himself
+Ali, the Indian."
+
+"Where? Can you take me to them?" I asked. "You know there is a warrant
+out for their arrest?"
+
+"I know--but----"
+
+"But what?" I cried.
+
+"No, not yet. I wait," he laughed. "I know every-ting. He kill my master;
+I kill him. My master be very good master."
+
+"Yes, I know he was," I said.
+
+"That man Cane--very bad man. Your poor young laidee--ah? She not know
+me. I know her. You no say you see me--eh? I tell every-ting later. You
+go Ostend; I meet you. Then we see them."
+
+"At Ostend!" I cried. "Are they there?"
+
+"You go Ostend to-morrow. Tell me your hotel. Senos come--eh? Senos see
+them with you. Oh! Oh!" he said in his quaint way, grinning from ear to
+ear.
+
+I looked at the curious figure beside me. He was the actual man who had
+heard the dying cries of Sir Digby Kemsley.
+
+"But, tell me," I urged, "have you been in London? Do you know that a
+young lady died in Cane's apartment--was killed there?"
+
+"Senos knows," he laughed grimly. "Senos has not left him--ah, no! He
+kill my master. I never leave him till I crush him--never!"
+
+"Then you know, of what occurred at Harrington Gardens?" I repeated.
+
+"Yes, Senos know. He tell in Ostend when we meet," he replied. "You go
+to-morrow, eh?" and he looked at me anxiously with those dark, rather
+blood-shot eyes of his.
+
+"I will go to-morrow," I answered without hesitation; and, taking out my
+wallet I gave him three notes of a hundred francs each, saying:
+
+"This will pay your fare. I will go straight to the Grand Hotel, on the
+Digue. You will meet me there."
+
+"And the laidee--eh? She must be there too."
+
+"Yes, Miss Shand will be with me," I said.
+
+"Good, sare--very good!" he replied, thrusting the notes into the inner
+pocket of his red velvet jacket. "I get other clothes--these only to sell
+things," and he smiled.
+
+I tried to induce him to tell me more, but he refused, saying:
+
+"At Ostend Senos show you. He tell you all he know--he tell the truth
+about the 'Red' Englishman."
+
+And presently, after he had refused the drink I offered him, the
+Peruvian, who was earning his living as an Arab of North Africa, bowed
+with politeness and left me, saying:
+
+"I meet you, Mee-ster Royle, at Grand Hotel in Ostend. But be careful
+neither of you seen. They are sharp, clever, alert--oh, ve-ry! We leave
+to-morrow--eh? Good!"
+
+And a moment later the quaint figure was lost in the darkness.
+
+An hour later, though past midnight, I despatched two long telegrams--one
+to Fremy in Brussels, and the other to Edwards in London.
+
+Then, two days later, by dint of an excuse that I had urgent business in
+Ostend, I found myself with Phrida and Mrs. Shand, duly installed, in
+rooms overlooking the long, sunny Digue, one of the finest sea-promenades
+in Europe.
+
+Ostend had begun her season, the racing season had commenced, and all the
+hotels had put on coats of new, white paint, and opened their doors,
+while in the huge Kursaal they played childish games of chance now that
+M. Marquet was no longer king--yet the magnificent orchestra was worth a
+journey to listen to.
+
+On the afternoon of our arrival, all was gay and bright; outside the blue
+sea, the crowd of well-dressed promenaders, and the golden sands where
+the bathing was so merry and so chic.
+
+But I had no eyes for the beauties or gaiety of the place. I sat closeted
+in my room with two friends, Fremy and Edwards, whom I introduced and who
+quickly fraternised.
+
+A long explanatory letter I had written to Brussels had reached Fremy
+before his departure from the capital.
+
+"Excellent," he was saying, his round, clean-shaven face beaming. "This
+Peruvian evidently knows where they are, and like all natives, wants to
+make a _coup-de-theatre_. I've brought two reliable men with me from
+Brussels, and we ought--if they are really here--to make a good capture."
+
+"Miss Shand knows nothing, you say?" Edwards remarked, seated on the edge
+of my bed.
+
+"No. This man Senos was very decided upon the point."
+
+"He has reasons, no doubt," remarked the detective.
+
+"It is just four o'clock," I remarked. "He has given me a rendezvous at
+the Cafe de la Regence, a little place at the corner of the Place
+d'Armes. I went round to find it as soon as I arrived. We're due there in
+a quarter of an hour."
+
+"Then let us go, messieurs," Fremy suggested.
+
+"And what about Miss Shand?" I asked.
+
+The two detectives held a brief discussion. Then Edwards, addressing me,
+said:
+
+"I really think that she ought to be present, Mr. Royle. Would you bring
+her? Prepare her for a scene--as there no doubt will be--and then follow
+us."
+
+"But Senos will not speak without I am present," I said.
+
+"Then go along to Miss Shand, give her my official compliments and ask
+her to accompany us upon our expedition," he replied.
+
+And upon his suggestion I at once acted.
+
+Truly those moments were breathless and exciting. I could hear my own
+heart beat as I went along the hotel corridor to knock at the door of her
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+FACE TO FACE.
+
+
+We had, all four of us, ranged ourselves up under the wall of a big white
+house in the Chausee de Nieuport, which formed the south side of the
+racecourse, and where, between us and the sea, rose the colossal Royal
+Palace Hotel, when Fremy advanced to the big varnished oak door, built
+wide for the entrance of automobiles, and rang the electric bell.
+
+In response there came out a sedate, white-whiskered man-servant in black
+coat and striped yellow waistcoat, the novel Belgium livery, but in an
+instant he was pinioned by the two detectives from Brussels, and the way
+opened for us.
+
+"No harm, old one!" cried the detectives in French, after the man had
+admitted his master was at home. "We are police-agents, and doing our
+duty. We don't want you, only we don't intend you to cry out, that's all.
+Keep a still tongue, old one, and you're all right!" they laughed as they
+kept grip of him. The Continental detective is always humorous in the
+exercise of his duty. I once witnessed in Italy a man arrested for
+murder. He had on a thin light suit, and having been to bed in it, the
+back was terribly pleated and creased. "Hulloa!" cried the detective, "so
+it is you. Come along, old dried fig!" I was compelled to laugh, for the
+culprit's thin, brown coat had all the creases of a Christmas fig.
+
+The house we rushed in was a big, luxurious one, with a wide passage
+running through to the Garage, and on the left a big, wide marble
+staircase with windows of stained glass and statues of dancing girls of
+the art nouveau.
+
+Fremy, leaving his assistants below with the man-servant, and crying to
+Edwards to look out for anybody trying to escape, sprang up the marble
+steps three at a time, followed by the narrow-eyed Peruvian, while
+Phrida, clinging to my arm, held her breath in quick apprehension. She
+was full of fear and amazement.
+
+I had had much difficulty in persuading her to accompany us, for she
+seemed in terror of denunciation. Indeed, not until I told her that
+Edwards had demanded her presence, had she consented.
+
+On the first landing, a big, thick-carpeted place with a number of long,
+white doors leading into various apartments, Fremy halted and raised his
+finger in silence to us.
+
+He stood glancing from door to door, wondering which to enter.
+
+Then suddenly he stood and gave a yell as though of fearful pain.
+
+In an instant there was a quick movement in a room on the right, the door
+opened and the woman Petre came forth in alarm.
+
+Next second, however, finding herself face to face with me, she halted
+upon the threshold and fell back against the lintel of the door while we
+rushed in to encounter the man I had known as Digby, standing defiant,
+with arms folded and brows knit.
+
+"Well," he demanded of me angrily. "What do you want here?"
+
+"I've brought a friend of yours to see you, Mr. Cane," I said quietly,
+and Edwards stepped aside from the door to admit the Peruvian Senos.
+
+The effect was instant and indeed dramatic. His face fell, his eyes
+glared, his teeth set, and his nails dug themselves into his palms.
+
+"Mee-ster Cane," laughed the dark-faced native, in triumph. "You no like
+see Senos--eh? No, no. He know too much--eh? He watch you always after he
+see you with laidee in Marseilles--he see you in London--ha! ha! Senos
+know every-ting. You kill my master, and you----"
+
+"It's a lie!" cried the man accused. "This fellow made the same statement
+at Huacho, and it was disproved."
+
+"Then you admit you are not Sir Digby Kemsley?" exclaimed Edwards
+quickly. "You are Herbert Cane, and I have a warrant for your arrest for
+murder."
+
+"Ah!" he laughed with an air of forced gaiety. "That is amusing!"
+
+"I'm very glad you think so, my dear sir," remarked the detective,
+glancing round to where the woman Petre had been placed in an armchair
+quite unconscious.
+
+Phrida was clinging to my arm, but uttered no word. I felt her fingers
+trembling as she gripped me.
+
+"I suppose you believe this native--eh?" asked the accused with sarcasm.
+"He tried to blackmail me in Peru, and because I refused to be bled he
+made a statement that I had killed my friend."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed the native. "Senos knows--he see with his own eyes. He
+see Luis and you with snake in a box. Luis could charm snakes by music.
+Senos watch you both that night!"
+
+"Oh! tell what infernal lies you like," cried Cane in angry disgust.
+
+"You, the 'Red' Englishman, are well known in Peru, and so is your
+friend--the woman there, who help you in all your bad schemes," said
+Senos, indicating the inanimate form of Mrs. Petre. "You introduced her
+to my master, but he no like her--he snub her--so you send her to Lima to
+wait for you--till you kill him, and get the paper--eh? I saw you steal
+paper--big blue paper with big seals--from master's despatch-box after
+snake bite him."
+
+"Paper!" echoed Edwards. "What paper?"
+
+"Perhaps I can explain something," Fremy interrupted in French. "I learnt
+some strange facts only three days ago which throw a great deal of light
+on this case."
+
+"I don't want to listen to all these romances," laughed Cane defiantly.
+He was an astute and polished adventurer, one of the cleverest and most
+elusive in Europe, and he had all the adventurer's nonchalance and
+impudence. At this moment he was living in that fine house he had taken
+furnished for the summer and passing as Mr. Charles K. Munday, banker, of
+Chicago. Certainly he had so altered his personal appearance that at
+first I scarcely recognised him as the elegant, refined man whom I had so
+foolishly trusted as a friend.
+
+"But now you are under arrest, mon cher ami, you will be compelled to
+listen to a good many unpleasant reminders," Fremy remarked with a broad
+grin of triumph upon his round, clean-shaven face.
+
+"If you arrest me, then you must arrest that woman there, Phrida Shand,
+for the murder of Marie Bracq in my flat in London. She was jealous of
+her--and killed her with a knife she brought with her for the purpose,"
+Cane said with a laugh. "If I must suffer--then so must she! She killed
+the girl. She can't deny it!"
+
+"Phrida!" I gasped, turning to my love, who still clung to me
+convulsively. "You hear what this man says--this vile charge he brings
+against you--a charge of murder! Say that it is not the truth," I
+implored. "Tell me that he lies!"
+
+Her big eyes were fixed upon mine, her countenance blanched to the lips,
+and her breath came and went in short, quick gasps.
+
+At last her lips moved, as we all gazed at her. Her voice was only a
+hoarse, broken whisper.
+
+"I--I can't!" she replied, and fell back into my arms in a swoon.
+
+"You see!" laughed the accused man. "You, Royle, are so clever that you
+only bring grief and disaster upon yourself. I prevented Mrs. Petre from
+telling the truth because I thought you had decided to drop the affair."
+
+"What?" I cried. "When your accomplice--that woman Petre--made a
+dastardly attempt upon my life at your instigation, and left me for dead.
+Drop the affair--never! You are an assassin, and you shall suffer the
+penalty."
+
+"And so will Phrida Shand. She deceived you finely--eh? I admire her
+cleverness," he laughed "She was a thorough Sport, she----"
+
+"Enough!" commanded Edwards roughly. "I give you into the custody of
+Inspector Fremy, of the Belgian Surete, on a charge of murder committed
+within the Republic of Peru."
+
+"And I also arrest the prisoner," added Fremy, "for offences committed in
+London and within the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg."
+
+The man, pale and haggard-eyed notwithstanding his bravado, started
+visibly at the famous detective's words, while at that moment the two men
+from Brussels appeared in the room, having released the white-whiskered
+man-servant, who stood aghast and astounded on the threshold. I supported
+my love, now quite unconscious, in my strong arms, and was trying to
+restore her, in which I was immediately aided by one of the detectives.
+
+The scene was an intensely dramatic one--truly an unusual scene to take
+place in the house of the sedate old Baron Terwindt, ancient Ministre de
+la Justice of Belgium.
+
+I was bending over my love and dashing water into her face when we were
+all suddenly startled by a loud explosion, and then we saw in Cane's hand
+a smoking revolver.
+
+He had fired at me--and, fortunately, missed me.
+
+In a second, however, the officers fell upon him, and after a brief but
+desperate struggle, in which a table and chairs were overturned, the
+weapon was wrenched from his grasp.
+
+"Eh! bien," exclaimed Fremy, when the weapon had been secured from the
+accused. "As you will have some unpleasant things to hear, you may as
+well listen to some of them now. You have denied your guilt. Well, I will
+tell Inspector Edwards what I have discovered concerning you and your
+cunning and dastardly treatment of the girl known as Marie Bracq."
+
+"I don't want to hear, I tell you!" he shouted in English. "If I'm
+arrested, take me away, put me into prison and send me over to England,
+where I shall get a fair trial."
+
+"But you shall hear," replied the big-faced official. "There is plenty of
+time to take you to Brussels, you know. Listen. The man Senos has alleged
+that you stole from the man you murdered a blue paper--bearing a number
+of seals. He is perfectly right. You sold that paper on the eighth of
+January last for a quarter of a million francs. Ah! my dear friend, you
+cannot deny that. The purchaser will give evidence--and what then?"
+
+Cane stood silent. His teeth were set, his gaze fixed, his grey brows
+contracted.
+
+The game was up, and he knew it. Yet his marvellously active mind was
+already seeking a way out. He was amazingly resourceful, as later on was
+shown, when the details of his astounding career came to be revealed.
+
+"Now the true facts are these--and perhaps mademoiselle and the man Senos
+will be able to supplement them--his Highness the Grand Duke of
+Luxemburg, about two years ago, granted to an American named Cassell a
+valuable concession for a strategic railway to run across his country
+from Echternach, on the eastern, or German, frontier of the Grand Duchy,
+to Arlon on the Belgian frontier, the Government of the latter State
+agreeing at the same time to continue the line direct to Sedan, and thus
+create a main route from Coblenz, on the Rhine, to Paris--a line which
+Germany had long wanted for military purposes, as it would be of
+incalculable value in the event of further hostilities with France. This
+concession, for which the American paid to the Grand Duke a considerable
+sum, was afterwards purchased by Sir Digby Kemsley--with his Highness's
+full sanction, he knowing him to be a great English railroad engineer.
+Meanwhile, as time went on, the Grand Duke was approached by the French
+Government with a view to rescinding the concession, as it was realised
+what superiority such a line would give Germany in the event of the
+massing of her troops in Eastern France. At first the Grand Duke refused
+to listen, but both Russia and Austria presented their protests, and his
+Highness found himself in a dilemma. All this was known to you, m'sieur
+Cane, through one Ludwig Mayer, a German secret agent, who inadvertently
+spoke about it while you were on a brief visit to Paris. You then
+resolved to return at once to Peru, make the acquaintance of Sir Digby
+Kemsley, and obtain the concession. You went, you were fortunate,
+inasmuch as he was injured and helpless, and you deliberately killed him,
+and securing the document, sailed for Europe, assuming the identity of
+the actual purchaser of the concession. Oh, yes!" he laughed, "you were
+exceedingly cunning and clever, for you did not at once deal with it. No,
+you went to Luxemburg. You made certain observations and inquiries. You
+stayed at the Hotel Brasseur for a week, and then, you were afraid to
+approach the Grand Duke with an offer to sell back the stolen concession,
+but--well, by that time you had resolved upon a very pretty and romantic
+plan of action," and he paused for a moment and gazed around at us.
+
+"Then robbery was the motive of the crime in Peru!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Certainly," Fremy replied. "But I will now relate how I came into the
+inquiry. In the last days of January, I was called in secret to Luxemburg
+by the Grand Duke, who, when we sat alone together, informed me that his
+only daughter Stephanie, aged twenty-one, who was a rather erratic young
+lady, and fond of travelling incognito, had disappeared. The last heard
+of her was three weeks before--in Paris--where she had, on her return
+from Egypt, been staying a couple of days at the Hotel Maurice with her
+aunt, the Grand Duchess of Baden, but she had packed her things and left,
+and nothing more had been heard of her. Search in her room, however, had
+revealed two letters, signed 'Phrida,' and addressed to a certain Marie
+Bracq."
+
+"Why, I never wrote to her in my life!" my love declared, for she had now
+regained her senses.
+
+"His Highness further revealed to me the fact that his daughter had,
+while in Egypt, made the acquaintance at the Hotel Savoy on the Island of
+Elephantine, of the great English railroad engineer, Sir Digby Kemsley,
+who had purchased a railway concession he had given, and which he was
+exceedingly anxious to re-purchase and thus continue on friendly terms
+with France. His daughter, on her return to Luxemburg, and before going
+to Paris, had mentioned her acquaintance with Sir Digby, and that he held
+the concession. Therefore, through her intermediary, Sir Digby--who was,
+of course, none other than this assassin, Cane--went again to Luxemburg
+and parted with the important document for a quarter of a million francs.
+That was on the eighth of January."
+
+"After the affair at Harrington Gardens," Edwards remarked.
+
+"Yes; after the murder of Marie Bracq, he lost no time in disposing of
+the concession."
+
+"It's a lie!" cried the accused. "That girl there killed her. I
+didn't--she was jealous of her!"
+
+My love shrank at the man's words, yet still clinging to me, her
+beautiful countenance pale as death, her lips half parted, her eyes
+staring straight in front of her.
+
+"Phrida," I said in a low voice, full of sympathy, "you hear what this
+man has alleged? Now that the truth is being told, will you, too, not
+speak? Speak!" I cried in my despair, "speak, dearest, I beg of you!"
+
+"No," she sighed. "You--you would turn from me--you would hate me!"
+
+And at her words Cane burst into a peal of harsh, triumphant laughter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+SHOWS THE TRUTH-TELLER.
+
+
+"Speak, laidee," urged the Peruvian. "Speak--tell truth. Senos know--he
+know!"
+
+But my love was still obdurate.
+
+"I prefer to face death," she whispered, "than to reveal the bitter truth
+to you, dear."
+
+What could I do? The others heard her words, and Cane was full of
+triumph.
+
+"I think, Miss Shand, that you should now tell whatever you know of this
+complicated affair. The truth will certainly have to be threshed out in a
+criminal court."
+
+But she made no answer, standing there, swaying slightly, with her white
+face devoid of expression.
+
+"Let Senos tell you some-tings," urged the narrow-eyed native. "When that
+man kill my master he fly to Lisbon. There Mrs. Petre meet him and go
+London. There he become Sir Digby Kemsley, and I see him often, often,
+because I crossed as stoker on same boat. He go to Luxemburg. I follow.
+One day he see Grand Duke's daughter--pretty young laidee--and somebody
+tell him she go to Egypt. She go, and he follow. I wait in Marseilles. I
+sell my rugs, wait three, four weeks and meet each steamer from
+Alexandria. At last he come with three laidees, and go to the Louvre et
+Paix, where I sell my rugs outside the cafe. I see he always with
+her--walking, driving, laughing. I want to tell her the truth--that the
+man is not my master, but his assassin. Ah! but no opportunity. They go
+to Paris. Then she and the laidees go to Luxemburg, and he to London. I
+follow her, and stay in Luxemburg to sell my shawls, and to see her. She
+drive out of the palace every day. Once I try and speak to her, but
+police arrest me and keep me prison two days--ugh! After a week she with
+another laidee go to Paris; then she alone go to Carlton Hotel in London.
+I watch there and see Cane call on her. He no see me--ah, no! I often
+watch him to his home in Harrington Gardens; often see him with that
+woman Petre, and once I saw Luis with them. I have much patience till one
+day the young lady leave the hotel herself and walk along Pall Mall. I
+follow and stop her. She very afraid of dark man, but I tell her no be
+afraid of Senos. Quick, in few words, I tell her that her friend not my
+master, Sir Digby--only the man who killed him. She dumbstruck. Tells me
+I am a liar, she will not believe. I repeat what I said, and she declares
+I will have to prove what I say. I tell her I am ready, and she askes me
+to meet her at same place and same time to-morrow. She greatly excited,
+and we part. Senos laughs, for he has saved young laidee--daughter of a
+king--from that man."
+
+"What? You actually told her Highness!" cried Fremy in surprise.
+
+"I told her how my master had been killed by that man--with the
+snake--and I warned her to avoid him. But she hesitated to believe
+Senos," was the native's reply. "Of course, she not know me. That was
+date six January. I remember it, for that night, poor young laidee--she
+die. She killed!"
+
+"What?" Edwards cried, staring at the speaker. "She was killed, you say?"
+
+"Yes," Fremy interrupted, "Marie Bracq was the name assumed by her
+Highness, the daughter of the Grand Duke. She loved freedom from all the
+trammels of court life, and as I have told you, went about Europe with
+her maid as her companion, travelling in different names. Mademoiselle
+Marie Bracq was one that it seems she used, only we did not discover this
+until after her death, and after his Highness had paid the quarter of a
+million francs to regain the concession he had granted--money which, I
+believe, the French Government really supplied from their secret service
+fund."
+
+"Then it was the daughter of the Grand Duke who fell a victim in Cane's
+flat?" I gasped in utter surprise at this latest revelation.
+
+"Yes, m'sieur," replied Fremy. "You will recollect, when you told us at
+the Prefecture of the name of the victim, how dumbfounded we were."
+
+"Ah, yes, I recollect!" I said. "I remember how your chief point-blank
+refused to betray the confidence reposed in him."
+
+And to all this the assassin of Sir Digby Kemsley listened without a
+word, save to point to my love, and declare:
+
+"There stands the woman who killed Marie Bracq. Arrest her!"
+
+Phrida stood rigid, motionless as a statue.
+
+"Yes," she exclaimed at last, with all her courage, "I--I will speak.
+I--I'll tell you everything. I will confess, for I cannot bear this
+longer. And yet, dearest," she cried, turning her face to me and looking
+straight into my eyes, "I love you, though I now know that after I have
+spoken--after I have told the truth--you will despise and hate me! Ah,
+God alone knows how I have suffered! how I have prayed for deliverance
+from this. But it cannot be. I have sinned, I suppose, and I must bear
+just punishment."
+
+There was silence.
+
+We all looked at her, though the woman Petre was still lying in her chair
+unconscious, and upon the assassin's lips was a grim smile.
+
+"You recollect," Phrida said, turning to me, "you remember the day when
+you introduced that man to me. Well, from that hour I knew no peace. He
+wrote to me, asking me to meet him, as he had something to tell me
+concerning my future. Well, I foolishly met him one afternoon in
+Rumpelmeyer's, in St. James's Street, when he told me that he had
+purchased a very important German patent for the manufacture of certain
+chemicals which would revolutionise prices, and would bring upon your
+firm inevitable ruin, as you pursued the old-fashioned methods. But,
+being your friend, and respecting us both, he had decided not to go
+further with the new process, and though he had given a large sum of
+money for it, he would, in our mutual interests, not allow it to be
+developed. Naturally, in my innocence I thanked him, and from that
+moment, professing great friendliness towards you, we became friends.
+Sometimes I met him at the houses of friends, but he always impressed
+upon me the necessity of keeping our acquaintance a secret."
+
+And she paused, placing her hand upon her heart as though to stay its
+throbbing.
+
+"One afternoon," she resumed, "the day of the tragedy, I received a
+telegram urging me to meet him without fail at five o'clock at
+Rumpelmeyer's. This I did, when he imparted to me a secret--that you,
+dear, were in the habit of meeting, at his flat, a foreign woman named
+Marie Bracq, daughter of a hair-dresser in the Edgware Road; that you,
+whom I loved, were infatuated with her, and--and that----"
+
+"The liar!" I cried.
+
+"He told me many things which naturally excited me, and which, loving you
+as I did, drove me to madness. I refused at first to heed his words, for
+somehow I mistrusted him--I know not why! But he offered to give me
+proof. If I went that night, or early in the morning, to Harrington
+Gardens, I would find her there, and I might question her. Imagine my
+state of mind after what he had revealed to me. I promised I would come
+there in secret, and I went home, my mind full of the lies and suspicion
+which he had, I now see, so cleverly suggested. I didn't then know him to
+be an assassin, but, mistrusting him as I did, I took for my own
+protection the old knife from the table in the drawing-room, and
+concealed it inside my blouse. At one o'clock next morning I crept out of
+the house noiselessly, and walked to Harrington Gardens, where I opened
+the outer door with the latch-key he had given me. On ascending to his
+flat I heard voices--I heard your voice, dear--therefore I descended into
+the dark and waited--waited until you came down the stairs and left. I
+saw you, and I was mad--mad! Then I went up, and he admitted me. The trap
+was already laid for me. I crossed that threshold to my doom!"
+
+"How?" I asked in my despair. "Tell me all, Phrida,--everything!"
+
+But at this point the Peruvian, Senos, interrupted, saying:
+
+"Let me speak, sare. I tell you," he cried quickly.
+
+"When I speak to the lady in Pall Mall I follow her. She go that
+afternoon to Harrington Gardens, but there see Mrs. Petre, whom she
+already know. Mrs. Petre find her excited, and after questioning her,
+induce her to tell her what I say--that Cane he kill my master. Then Mrs.
+Petre say, Sir Digby away in the country--not return to London--at
+Paddington--till one o'clock in the morning. I listen to it all, for
+Senos friend of the hall-porter--eh? So young laidee she says she come
+late in the night--half-past one or two o'clock--and ask himself the
+truth. But Cane in his room all the time, of course."
+
+"Well, Phrida?" I asked quickly. "Tell us what happened on that night
+when you entered."
+
+"Yes," cried Cane sarcastically, "Lie to them--they'll believe you, of
+course!"
+
+"When I entered that man took me into the sitting-room, and I sat down.
+Naturally I was very upset. Mrs. Petre, whom I had met before, was there,
+and after he had told me many things about your relations with the
+daughter of a hair-dresser--things which maddened me--Mrs. Petre admitted
+her from the adjoining room. I was mad with jealousy, loving you as I
+did. What happened between us I do not know. I--I only fear that--that I
+took the knife from my breast and, in a frenzy of madness--killed her!"
+And she covered her face with her hands.
+
+"Exactly!" cried Cane. "I'm glad you have the moral courage to admit it."
+
+"But describe exactly what occurred--as far as you know," Edwards said,
+pressing her.
+
+"I know that I was in a frenzy of passion, and hysterical, perhaps," she
+said at last. "I recollect Mrs. Petre saying that I looked very unwell,
+and fetching me some smelling-salts from the next room. I smelt them, but
+the odour was faint and strange, and a few moments later I--well, I knew
+no more."
+
+"And then--afterwards?" I asked very gravely.
+
+"When, later on I came to my senses," she said in slow, hard tones, as
+though reflecting, "I found the girl whom I believed to be my rival in
+your affections lying on the ground. In her breast was the knife. Ah,
+shall I ever forget that moment when I realised what I had done! Cane was
+bending over me, urging me to remain calm. He told me that my rival was
+dead--that I had killed her and that she would not further interfere with
+my future. I--I saw him bend over the body, withdraw the knife, and wipe
+it upon his handkerchief, while that woman, his accomplice, looked on.
+Then he gave me back the knife, which instinctively I concealed, and bade
+me go quickly and noiselessly back home, promising secrecy, and declaring
+that both he and Mrs. Petre would say nothing--that my terrible secret
+was safe in their hands. I believed them, and I crept down the stairs out
+into the road, and walked home to Cromwell Road. I replaced the knife in
+the drawing-room, and I believed them until--until I knew that you
+guessed my secret! Then came that woman's betrayal, and I knew that my
+doom was sealed," she added, her chin sinking upon her breast.
+
+"You see," laughed Cane defiantly, "that the girl admits her guilt. She
+was jealous of Marie Bracq, and in a frenzy of passion struck her down.
+Mrs. Petre was there and witnessed it. She will describe it all to you,
+no doubt, when she recovers."
+
+"And what she will say is one big lie," declared Senos, coming forward
+again. "We all know Mrs. Petre," he laughed in his high-pitched voice;
+"she is your tool--she and Luis. But he become a snake-charmer and give
+exhibitions at music-halls. He bit by one snake at Darlington, a month
+ago, and die quick. Ah, yes! Senos know! Snake bite him, because he
+brought snake and give him to that man to bite my poor master."
+
+"Why will Mrs. Petre tell lies, Senos?" demanded Edwards who, with Fremy,
+was listening with the greatest interest and putting the threads of the
+tangled skein together in their proper sequence.
+
+"Because I, Senos, was at Harrington Gardens that night. I knew that the
+laidee I had spoken to was going there, and I feared that some-ting might
+happen, for Cane a desperate man when charged with the truth."
+
+"You were there!" I gasped. "What do you know?"
+
+"Well, this," said the narrow-eyed man who had hunted down the assassin
+of his master. "I waited outside the house--waited some hours--when about
+eleven Cane he came down and unfastened the door and leave it a little
+open. I creep in, and soon after you, Mr. Royle, you come in. I wait and
+see you go upstairs. Then I creep up and get out of the window on the
+landing and on to the roof, where I see inside Cane's room--see all that
+goes on. My friend, the hall-porter, he tell me this sometime before, and
+I find the spot where, kneeling down, I see between the blinds. I see you
+talk with him and I see you go. Then I see Miss Shand--she come in and
+Mrs. Petre, and Cane talk to her. She very excited when she meet young
+laidee, and Mrs. Petre she give her bottle to smell. Then she faint off.
+The laidee, daughter of great Duke, she say something to Cane. He
+furious. She repeat what I say to her. Then Mrs. Petre, who had given
+Miss Shand the smelling-salts, find knife in her breast and secretly puts
+it into Cane's hand. In a moment Cane strikes the young lady with it--ah!
+full in the chest--and she sinks on the floor--dead! It went into her
+heart. Cane and the woman Petre talk in low whispers for few minutes,
+both very afraid. Then Miss Shand she wakes, opens her eyes, and sees the
+young laidee dead on the floor. She scream, but Mrs. Petre puts her hand
+over her mouth. Cane take out the knife, wipe it, and after telling her
+something, Miss Shand creep away. Oh, yes, Senos he see it all! Miss
+Shand quite innocent--she do nothing. Cane kill daughter of the great
+Duke--he with his own hand--he kill her. Senos saw him--with his own
+eyes!"
+
+"Ah!" I cried, rushing towards the native, and gripping both his brown
+hands. "Thank you, Senos, for those words. You have saved the woman I
+love, for you are an eye-witness to that man's crime which with such
+subtle ingenuity he has endeavoured to fasten upon her, and would have
+succeeded had it not been for your dogged perseverance and astuteness."
+
+"He kill my master," replied the Peruvian simply. "I watch him and
+convict him. He bad assassin, gentlemens--very bad man!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+IS THE CONCLUSION.
+
+
+"Do you really believe that man?" asked Cane, turning to us quite coolly,
+a sarcastic smile upon his lips.
+
+He was a marvellous actor, for he now betrayed not the slightest
+confusion. He even laughed at the allegations made against him. His bold
+defiance utterly amazed us. Yet we knew now how resourceful and how
+utterly unscrupulous he was.
+
+"Yes, I do!" was the officer's reply. "You murdered her Highness, fearing
+that she should go to her father and expose you before you could have
+time to dispose of your stolen concession to him. Had she gone to him,
+the police would hunt you down as Sir Digby's assassin. But by closing
+her lips you hoped to be able to sell back the concession and still
+preserve your guilty secret."
+
+"Of course," remarked Fremy, "the whole affair is now quite plain. Poor
+Miss Shand was drawn into the net in order to become this scoundrel's
+victim. He intended from the first to make use of her in some way, and
+did so at last by making her believe she had killed her alleged rival in
+Mr. Royle's affection. Truly this man is a clever and unscrupulous
+scoundrel, for he succeeded in obtaining a quarter of a million francs
+from a reigning sovereign for a document, to obtain which he had
+committed a foul and dastardly crime!"
+
+"A lie--lies, all of it!" shouted the accused angrily, his face as white
+as paper.
+
+"Oh, do not trouble," laughed Fremy, speaking in French. "You will have
+an opportunity to make your defence before the judge--you and your
+ingenious accomplice, Mrs. Petre."
+
+"We want her in England for the attempted murder of Mr. Royle," Edwards
+remarked. "I'll apply for her extradition to-morrow. Your chief will, no
+doubt, decide to keep Cane here--at least, for the present. We shall want
+him for the murder of the Englishman, Sir Digby Kemsley."
+
+"You may want me," laughed the culprit with an air of supreme defiance,
+"but you'll never have me! Oh, no, no! I'll remain over here, and leave
+you wanting me."
+
+"Prisoner, what is the use of these denials and this defiance?" asked
+Fremy severely in French, advancing towards him. "You are in my
+custody--and under the law of the Kingdom of Belgium I arrest you for the
+murder of Sir Digby Kemsley, in Peru, and for the murder of Stephanie,
+daughter of his Highness the Grand Duke of Luxemburg." Then, turning to
+his two subordinates, he added briefly: "Put the handcuffs on him! He may
+give trouble!"
+
+"Handcuffs! Ha, ha!" cried Senos the Peruvian, laughing and snapping his
+brown fingers in the prisoner's face. "It is my triumph now. Senos has
+avenged the death of his poor, good master!"
+
+"A moment," exclaimed the prisoner. "I may at least be permitted to
+secure my papers before I leave here, and hand them over to you? They
+will, perhaps, interest you," he said quite coolly. Then he took from his
+watch-chain a small key, and with it opened a little cupboard in the
+wall, from whence he took a small, square deed-box of japanned tin, which
+he placed upon the table before us.
+
+With another and smaller key, and with a slight grin upon his face, he
+opened the lid, but a cry of dismay escaped us, for next second we saw
+that he held in his hand a small, black object, sinuous and writhing--a
+small, thin, but highly venomous black snake!
+
+It was over in an instant, ere we could realise the truth. Upon his white
+wrist I saw a tiny bead of blood, where the reptile had struck and bitten
+him, and as he flung it back into the box and banged down the lid he
+turned upon us in defiance, and said:
+
+"Now take me! I am ready," he cried, uttering a peal of fiendish
+laughter. "Carry me where you will, for in a few moments I shall be dead.
+Ah! yes, my good friends! I have played the great game--and lost. Yet
+I've cheated you all, as I always declared that I would."
+
+The two men sprang forward to slip the metal gyves upon his wrists, but
+Fremy, noticing the instant change in the assassin's countenance,
+motioned them off.
+
+The culprit's face grew ashen grey, his thin jaws were fixed. He tried to
+utter some further words, but no sound came from him, only a low gurgle.
+
+We stood by and watched. He placed both his palms to his brow and stood
+for a few seconds in the centre of the room. Then a paroxysm of pain
+seemed to double him completely up, and he fell to the carpet writhing in
+most fearful agony. It was horrible to witness, and Phrida, with a cry,
+turned away.
+
+Then suddenly he lay stiff, and stretched his limbs to such an extent
+that we could hear the bones crack. His back became arched, and then he
+expired with horrible convulsions, which held his limbs stiffened and
+extended to their utmost limits--truly, the most awful and agonising of
+deaths, and a torture in the last moments that must have been
+excruciating--a punishment worse, indeed, than any that man-made law
+might allow.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As Herbert Cane paid the penalty of his crimes the woman Petre at last
+recovered consciousness.
+
+I saw the look of abject terror upon her face as her eyes fell upon the
+man lying dead upon the carpet before us.
+
+She realised the terrible truth at once, and giving vent to a loud,
+hysterical scream, rose and threw herself on her knees beside the man
+whose wide-open eyes, staring into space, were fast glazing in death.
+
+Edwards bent, and asked in a low voice whether I wished to give her into
+custody for the attempt upon me.
+
+But I replied in the negative.
+
+"The assassin has received his just punishment and must answer to his
+Maker," I replied. "That is enough. This scene will assuredly be a lesson
+to her."
+
+"She falsely accused Miss Shand, remember," he said. "She knew all the
+time that Cane struck the poor girl down."
+
+"No," I replied. "Now that the stigma has been removed from the one I
+love, I will be generous. I will prefer no charge against her."
+
+"Ah! dearest," cried Phrida, "I am glad of that. Let us forgive, and
+endeavour, if possible, to forget these dark, black days and weeks when
+both our lives were blighted, and the future seemed so hopeless and full
+of tragedy."
+
+"Yes," I said, "let us go forth and forget."
+
+And with a last glance at the dead man, with the woman with dishevelled
+hair kneeling in despair at his side, I took the arm of my beloved, and
+kissing her before them all, led her out, away from the scene so full of
+bitterness and horror.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+To further prolong the relation of this tragic chapter of my life's
+history would serve no purpose.
+
+What more need I tell you than to say Mrs. Petre disappeared entirely,
+apparently thankful to escape, and that at St. Mary Abbots, in
+Kensington, a month ago, Phrida and I became man and wife, both Edwards
+and Fremy being present.
+
+As I pen these final lines I am sitting upon the balcony of the great
+Winter Palace Hotel, in Luxor, within sight of the colossal ruins of
+Karnak, for we are spending a delightful honeymoon in Upper Egypt, that
+region where the sun always shines and rain never falls. Phrida, in her
+thin white cotton gown and white sun helmet, though it is January, is
+seated beside me, her little hand in mine. Below us, in the great
+garden, rise the high, feathery palms, above a riot of roses and
+poinsettias, magnolias, and other sweet-smelling flowers.
+
+It is the silent, breathless hour of the desert sunset. Before us, away
+beyond the little strip of vegetation watered by the broad, ever-flowing
+Nile, the clear, pale green sky is aflame with crimson, a sunset mystic
+and wonderful, such as one only sees in Egypt, that golden land of the
+long-forgotten.
+
+From somewhere behind comes up the long-drawn nasal song of an Arab
+boatman--that quaint, plaintive, sing-song rhythm accompanied by a
+tom-tom, which encourages the rowers to bend at their oars, while away
+still further behind across the river, lays the desolate ruins of the
+once-powerful Thebes, and that weird, arid wilderness which is so
+impressive--the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings.
+
+Phrida has been reading what I have here written, and as I kiss her sweet
+lips, she looks lovingly into my eyes and says:
+
+"It is enough, dearest. Say that you and I are happy--ah! so supremely
+happy at last, in each other's love. No pair in the whole world could
+trust each other as we have done. I know that I was guilty of a very
+grave fault--the fault of concealing my friendship with that man from
+you. But I foolishly thought I was acting in your interests--that being
+your friend, he was mine also. I never dreamed that such a refined face
+could hide so black and vile a heart."
+
+"But I have forgiven all, darling," I hasten to reassure her! "I know now
+what a clever and ingenious scoundrel that man was, and how full of
+resource and amazing cunning. You were his victim, just as I was
+myself--just as were the others. No," I add, "life, love, and happiness
+are before us. So let us learn to forget."
+
+And as our lips meet once again in a long, fond, passionate caress, I lay
+down my pen in order to press her more closely to my breast.
+
+She is mine--my own beloved--mine for now and evermore.
+
+THE END.
+
+Butler & Tanner Frome and London
+
+
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+New and Recent Fiction.
+
+
+Finished
+
+H. RIDER HAGGARD.
+
+Here we have Mr. Rider Haggard at his best. The book is alive with
+adventure, and characters black and white.
+
+Mr. Haggard makes all his characters interesting; they live for us, no
+matter how extraordinary the circumstances, and these circumstances are
+described in such a way, so vividly and yet so quietly, that we accept
+them without question. "Finished" is indeed as full of good points as it
+is of adventures.
+
+
+Thorgils of Treadholt
+
+MAURICE HEWLETT.
+
+This new work by the author of "The Forest Lovers" is told with the
+wealth of detail and vivid actuality which have made the author's
+excursions into primitive Scandinavian history and legend as fascinating
+and as strongly human in their appeal as the mediaeval romances which
+first made him famous.
+
+
+Carmen's Messenger
+
+HAROLD BINDLOSS.
+
+Mr. Bindloss is an author who can deftly use sensationalism to his
+purpose without forcing it for mere effect, and who can also depict the
+character of a strong man as honest as determined in love with a sweet
+woman. He tells a story with rare skill.
+
+
+Lonesome Heights
+
+HALLIWELL SUTCLIFFE.
+
+A thoroughly enjoyable story, without a dull page, and in the front rank
+of the author's work. Plot and characterisation are equally good.
+
+
+The Just Men of Cordova
+
+EDGAR WALLACE.
+
+An adventure story dealing with another episode in the career of the
+"Four Just Men" who have appeared in several of Mr Wallace's most popular
+novels.
+
+
+The Rattlesnake
+
+KATHARINE TYNAN.
+
+A strong knowledge of human nature, for which Katharine Tynan is famous,
+is well portrayed in the pages of this novel, and this, in conjunction
+with the interesting nature of the plot, renders it particularly
+successful. The book will be appreciated by novel readers.
+
+
+Adam
+
+PAUL TRENT.
+
+A strikingly original novel. It tells of a young man who is kept in
+seclusion and entirely without knowledge of the world until the age of
+twenty-one. His development, especially from the religious standpoint, is
+strikingly realistic and enthralling. A novel likely to be talked about.
+
+MORNING POST.--"Mr. Paul Trent tells a tale well. He has a narrative
+style that grips and interests, and we are grateful to him for a real and
+enjoyable story."
+
+
+No Greater Love
+
+WILLIAM LE QUEUX.
+
+A remarkable story, crowded with the most exciting situations, and
+bristling with crimes which only the brain of a most versatile author
+could conceive.
+
+THE SCOTSMAN.--"Few novelists, if any, surpass Mr. Wm. Le Queux in the
+art of making a frankly and formidably melodramatic story go with
+alluring lightness in its intensity."
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+TWO-SHILLING FICTION
+
+_Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt. With Illustrations. 2/- net._
+
+    1 =Lawrence Clavering=                           A. E. W. Mason
+    3 =Limitations=                                    E. F. Benson
+    7 =Roger Trewinion=                              Joseph Hocking
+    8 =Half a Hero=                                    Anthony Hope
+    9 =Ayesha=                                     H. Rider Haggard
+   10 =A Study in Scarlet=                           A. Conan Doyle
+   12 =To Leeward=                               F. Marion Crawford
+   13 =Comedies of Courtship=                               A. Hope
+   16 =Lady Barbarity=                                 J. C. Snaith
+   17 =As We Forgive Them=                             Wm. Le Queux
+   18 =Hawtrey's Deputy=                            Harold Bindloss
+   19 =The Peer and the Woman=                      E. P. Oppenheim
+   20 =Sylvia's Chauffeur=                              Louis Tracy
+   21 =Mr. Witt's Widow=                               Anthony Hope
+   22 =The Unknown Lady=                           Justus M. Forman
+   24 =Lord Stranleigh, Philanthropist=                 Robert Barr
+   25 =The Master Mummer=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+   27 =The Protector=                               Harold Bindloss
+   28 =The Postmaster of Market Deignton=           E. P. Oppenheim
+   29 =The Sign of the Stranger=                       Wm. Le Queux
+   31 =The Pioneer=                                 Harold Bindloss
+   32 =False Evidence=                              E. P. Oppenheim
+   33 =The Tickencote Treasure=                        Wm. Le Queux
+   34 =Mirabel's Island=                                Louis Tracy
+   35 =White Walls=                                   Max Pemberton
+   36 =The Lovers=                                  Eden Phillpotts
+   38 =The Vow=                                          Paul Trent
+   39 =The Purple Robe=                              Joseph Hocking
+   40 =The Trustee=                                 Harold Bindloss
+   41 =Expiation=                                   E. P. Oppenheim
+   42 =Mysteries=                                      Wm. Le Queux
+   43 =The Foundling=                                    Paul Trent
+   44 =The Betrayal=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+   45 =The Wastrel=                                 Harold Bindloss
+   46 =The Room of Secrets=                            Wm. Le Queux
+   47 =The Opening Door=                           Justus M. Forman
+   48 =Lest We Forget=                               Joseph Hocking
+   49 =The Long Arm=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+   50 =The Second Chance=                                Paul Trent
+   51 =The Yellow Crayon=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+   52 =The Allinson Honour=                         Harold Bindloss
+   53 =The Open Road=                           Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   54 =The Master of Merripit=                      Eden Phillpotts
+   55 =Max Logan=                                        Paul Trent
+   56 =An Enemy Hath Done This=                      Joseph Hocking
+   57 =Mysterious Mr. Sabin=                        E. P. Oppenheim
+   59 =The Heir to the Throne=                      A. W. Marchmont
+   60 =Blake's Burden=                              Harold Bindloss
+   61 =A Daughter of the Marionis=                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   62 =The House 'Round the Corner=                     Louis Tracy
+   63 =The White Lie=                                  Wm. Le Queux
+   64 =Uncle Peter's Will=                         Silas K. Hocking
+   65 =Lord Stranleigh Abroad=                          Robert Barr
+   66 =The Six Rubies=                             Justus M. Forman
+   67 =Leila and Her Lover=                           Max Pemberton
+   68 =The Secret of the Reef=                      Harold Bindloss
+   69 =The Blind Spot=                             Justus M. Forman
+   70 =Nesbit's Compact=                                 Paul Trent
+   73 =The White Horses=                        Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   74 =A Lovers' Tale=                              Maurice Hewlett
+   75 =Delia Blanchflower=                        Mrs. Humphry Ward
+   76 =The Coming of the King=                       Joseph Hocking
+   77 =The Admirable Carfew=                          Edgar Wallace
+   78 =Prince of Sinners=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+   79 =A Risky Game=                                Harold Bindloss
+   80 =The Sign of Silence=                            Wm. Le Queux
+   81 =The Angel of the Desert=                    Silas K. Hocking
+   82 =A Chateau in Picardy=                    Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   83 =The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown=            E. P. Oppenheim
+   84 =In Self Defence=                            Silas K. Hocking
+   85 =Bentley's Conscience=                             Paul Trent
+   86 =The Borderer=                                Harold Bindloss
+   87 =A Monk of Cruta=                             E. P. Oppenheim
+   88 =Frey and His Wife=                           Maurice Hewlett
+   89 =The Birthright=                               Joseph Hocking
+   90 =The Crimson Field=                       Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   91 =The Flying Girl=                               Richard Marsh
+   92 =When He Came to Himself=                    Silas K. Hocking
+   93 =God and Mammon=                               Joseph Hocking
+   94 =The Annexation Society=                       J. S. Fletcher
+   95 =Greater Love=                                 Joseph Hocking
+   96 =The Secret=                                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   97 =A Prince of this World=                       Joseph Hocking
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+SHILLING FICTION
+
+_Foolscap 8vo. Cloth Gilt. 1/- net._
+
+LATEST LIST
+
+   78 =Ayesha=                                     H. Rider Haggard
+   80 =The Open Road=                           Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   82 =An Enemy Hath Done This=                      Joseph Hocking
+   88 =The Scarlet Woman=                            Joseph Hocking
+   93 =The Holy Flower=                            H. Rider Haggard
+   94 =The Traitors=                          E. Phillips Oppenheim
+   95 =The Strength of the Hills=               Halliwell Sutcliffe
+   96 =The Pathway=                                   Gertrude Page
+   97 =The Blind Spot=                             Justus M. Forman
+   98 =The Broken Thread=                              Wm. Le Queux
+   99 =The Intruder=                                Harold Bindloss
+  100 =Faith Tresilian=                             Eden Phillpotts
+  101 =Leila and Her Lover=                           Max Pemberton
+  102 =Nesbit's Compact=                                 Paul Trent
+  103 =A Man and His Kingdom=                       E. P. Oppenheim
+  104 =The White Horses=                        Halliwell Sutcliffe
+  105 =Delia Blanchflower=                        Mrs. Humphry Ward
+  106 =The Secret of the Reef=                      Harold Bindloss
+  107 =The Mysterious Three=                           Wm. Le Queux
+  108 =A Lovers' Tale=                              Maurice Hewlett
+  109 =A Prince of Sinners=                         E. P. Oppenheim
+  110 =Rainbow Island=                                  Louis Tracy
+  111 =The Place of Dragons=                           Wm. Le Queux
+  112 =The Purple Robe=                              Joseph Hocking
+  113 =When Greek meets Greek=                           Paul Trent
+  114 =A Risky Game=                                Harold Bindloss
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+NINEPENNY NOVELS
+
+_Cloth Gilt, with Frontispiece and Attractive Wrapper in colours. 9d.
+net._
+
+    1 =The Garden of Lies=                         Justus M. Forman
+    2 =Anna, The Adventuress=                       E. P. Oppenheim
+    4 =The Beautiful White Devil=                       Guy Boothby
+    5 =The Impostor=                                Harold Bindloss
+    7 =A Study In Scarlet=                           A. Conan Doyle
+    9 =The Mother=                                  Eden Phillpotts
+   10 =The Crimson Blind=                             Fred M. White
+   14 =A Maker of History=                          E. P. Oppenheim
+   16 =The Pillar of Light=                             Louis Tracy
+   17 =A Bid for Fortune=                               Guy Boothby
+   21 =Mr. Wingrave, Millionaire=                   E. P. Oppenheim
+   31 =The Secret=                                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   34 =Darby and Joan=                                       "Rita"
+   36 =The Temptress=                                  Wm. Le Queux
+   43 =The Missioner=                               E. P. Oppenheim
+   47 =Dr. Nikola=                                      Guy Boothby
+   53 =His Lady's Pleasure=                             H. Bindloss
+   54 =A Courier of Fortune=                        A. W. Marchmont
+   58 =Heart of Gold=                                 L. G. Moberly
+   65 =Hawtrey's Deputy=                            Harold Bindloss
+   67 =A Maker of Nations=                              Guy Boothby
+   69 =A Millionaire of Yesterday=                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   72 =Long Live the King=                              Guy Boothby
+   75 =The World's Great Snare=                     E. P. Oppenheim
+   76 =Helen of the Moor=                             A. & C. Askew
+   77 =League of the Leopard=                       Harold Bindloss
+   78 =Her Splendid Sin=                                Headon Hill
+   79 =Dr. Nikola's Experiment=                         Guy Boothby
+   80 =Whoso Findeth a Wife=                           Wm. Le Queux
+   81 =The Stowaway=                                    Louis Tracy
+   82 =The Law of the Land=                          Fred. M. White
+   83 =Mr. Marx's Secret=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+   84 =Sanders of the River=                          Edgar Wallace
+   85 =Under the Black Eagle=                       A. W. Marchmont
+   86 =Joy: a Happy Soul=                             L. G. Moberly
+   87 =The Red Rat's Daughter=                          Guy Boothby
+   88 =The Dream Daughter=                            A. & C. Askew
+   89 =The Liberationist=                           Harold Bindloss
+   90 =Lord Stranleigh Abroad=                              R. Barr
+   91 =Jeanne of the Marshes=                       E. P. Oppenheim
+   92 =A Race with Ruin=                                Headon Hill
+   93 =A Fatal Legacy=                                  Louis Tracy
+   95 =A Fatal Dose=                                  Fred M. White
+   96 =The Kidnapped President=                         Guy Boothby
+   97 =The People of the River=                       Edgar Wallace
+   98 =Christina=                                     L. G. Moberly
+   99 =The Master Mummer=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+  100 =The Golden Girl=                               A. & C. Askew
+  101 =The Silent Barrier=                              Louis Tracy
+  102 =The Cottage in the Chine=                        Headon Hill
+  103 =My Indian Queen=                                 Guy Boothby
+  104 =The Idol of the Town=                           Wm. Le Queux
+  105 =False Evidence=                              E. P. Oppenheim
+  106 =The Cardinal Moth=                             Fred M. White
+  107 =The Protector=                               Harold Bindloss
+  108 =His Little Girl=                               L. G. Moberly
+  109 =White Walls=                                   Max Pemberton
+  110 =Money or Wife=                             Effie A. Rowlands
+  111 =Farewell, Nikola=                                Guy Boothby
+  112 =The Council of Justice=                           E. Wallace
+  113 =The House Next Door=                           A. & C. Askew
+  114 =Conspirators=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+  115 =The Master Spirit=                            Sir Wm. Magnay
+  116 =A Traitor's Wooing=                              Headon Hill
+  117 =Sheilah McLeod=                                  Guy Boothby
+  118 =The Sign of the Stranger=                       Wm. Le Queux
+  119 =The Pioneer=                                 Harold Bindloss
+  120 =The Open Door=                                 Fred M. White
+  121 =The Betrayal=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+  122 =Diana=                                         L. G. Moberly
+  123 =The Vow=                                          Paul Trent
+  124 =Fennell's Tower=                                 Louis Tracy
+  125 =The Admirable Carfew=                             E. Wallace
+  126 =Through Folly's Mill=                          A. & C. Askew
+  127 =Love Made Manifest=                              Guy Boothby
+  128 =The Tickencote Treasure=                        Wm. Le Queux
+  129 =Craven Fortune=                                Fred M. White
+  130 =The Yellow Crayon=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+  131 =Cleansing Fires=                               L. G. Moberly
+  132 =The Lovers=                                  Eden Phillpotts
+  133 =Sunset and Dawn=                           Effie A. Rowlands
+  134 =The Trustee=                                 Harold Bindloss
+  135 =The Foundling=                                    Paul Trent
+  136 =The Heir to the Throne=                      A. W. Marchmont
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+Sixpenny Copyright
+
+NOVELS
+
+_Large Demy 8vo. Coloured Covers. Price 6d._
+
+    1 =A Bid for Fortune=                               Guy Boothby
+   18 =A Monk of Cruta=                             E. P. Oppenheim
+   26 =A Daughter of the Marionis=                  E. P. Oppenheim
+   33 =Love Made Manifest=                              Guy Boothby
+   48 =The Secret Service=                             Wm. Le Queux
+   51 =The Temptress=                                  Wm. Le Queux
+   73 =Belles and Ringers=                             Hawley Smart
+   74 =Sarchedon=                              G. J. Whyte-Melville
+   77 =Across the World for a Wife=                     Guy Boothby
+   82 =A Sailor's Bride=                                Guy Boothby
+   87 =The Survivor=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+   98 =In Strange Company=                              Guy Boothby
+  116 =The Traitors=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+  122 =Dr. Nikola=                                      Guy Boothby
+  127 =The Crimson Blind=                             Fred M. White
+  145 =A Bid for Freedom=                               Guy Boothby
+  155 =The Betrayal=                                E. P. Oppenheim
+  160 =A Study in Scarlet=                           A. Conan Doyle
+  171 =The Master Mummer=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+  179 =The King of Diamonds=                            Louis Tracy
+  199 =Beneath Her Station=                         Harold Bindloss
+  233 =The Liberationist=                           Harold Bindloss
+  237 =The Mother=                                  Eden Phillpotts
+  248 =The League of the Leopard=                   Harold Bindloss
+  266 =The Powers of Mischief=                Sir Wm. Magnay, Bart.
+  277 =The Sundial=                                  Fred. M. White
+  279 =In White Raiment=                               Wm. Le Queux
+  282 =The Missioner=                               E. P. Oppenheim
+  286 =Lorna Doone=                                 R. D. Blackmore
+  305 =The Sporting Chance=                           A. & C. Askew
+  323 =Vivienne=                                             "Rita"
+  342 =Countess Londa=                                  Guy Boothby
+  343 =Heath Hover Mystery=                         Bertram Mitford
+  351 =The Sin of Alison Dering=                      L. G. Moberly
+  355 =Rogues in Arcady=                             Sir Wm. Magnay
+  357 =Jim Crowshaw's Mary=                          Fred. M. White
+  361 =Angela's Marriage=                             L. G. Moberly
+  362 =Bianca's Daughter=                          Justus M. Forman
+  365 =The Legacy=                                    A. & C. Askew
+  367 =A Son of the Immortals=                          Louis Tracy
+  368 =The Witness of the Ring=               Marie Connor Leighton
+  369 =Christina=                                     L. G. Moberly
+  370 =Mr. Marx's Secret=                           E. P. Oppenheim
+  372 =Lady Clara=                                    Fred M. White
+  374 =The Secret of the Sands=                       Fred M. White
+  375 =The House of the Black Panther=                A. & C. Askew
+  376 =Hawtrey's Deputy=                            Harold Bindloss
+  377 =The Mystery Queen=                               Fergus Hume
+  379 =Sylvia's Chauffeur=                              Louis Tracy
+  381 =The Peer and the Women=                      E. P. Oppenheim
+  382 =A Scarlet Sin=                                 A. & C. Askew
+  383 =Her Sacrifice=                                 Arthur Applin
+  384 =Justice=                               Marie Connor Leighton
+  386 =His Little Girl=                               L. G. Moberly
+  387 =Radford Shone=                                   Headon Hill
+  388 =The Open Door=                                 Fred M. White
+  409 =A Prince of Darkness=                        Florence Warden
+  412 =The Van Dylk Diamonds=                         Arthur Applin
+  417 =Pallard, the Punter=                           Edgar Wallace
+  420 =The Supplanter=                                   Paul Trent
+  422 =Until Seventy Times Seven=                     L. G. Moberly
+  423 =The Secret Cargo=                             J. S. Fletcher
+  425 =A Royal Wrong=                                 Fred M. White
+  428 =One of the Family=                              Keble Howard
+  429 =Ducks and Drakes=                      Marie Connor Leighton
+  430 =Gilded London=                                 A. & C. Askew
+  431 =That Preposterous Will=                        L. G. Moberly
+  450 =The Court of the Angels=                    Justus M. Forman
+  469 =False Evidence=                              E. P. Oppenheim
+  472 =The Woman Who Tempted=                       Gertrude Warden
+  490 =Souls in Pawn=                               Lindsay Russell
+  494 =Blackthorn Farm=                               Arthur Applin
+  495 =All Men are Liars=                            Joseph Hocking
+  500 =The Girl from Nippon=                           Carlton Dawe
+  506 =The Caretaker=                                   Fergus Hume
+  507 =The Man Who Bought London=                     Edgar Wallace
+  508 =The Cloak of Darkness=                        Sir Wm. Magnay
+  509 =Paul Quentin=                                  Fred M. White
+  510 =The Gates of Sorrow=                   Marie Connor Leighton
+  511 =Jabez Easterbrook=                            Joseph Hocking
+  512 =The Gates of Silence=                        Lindsay Russell
+  514 =After Long Years=                              L. G. Moberly
+  515 =The Flying Girl=                               Richard Marsh
+  516 =The King _versus_ Wargrave=                   J. S. Fletcher
+  517 =The Weavers Plot=                              A. & C. Askew
+  518 =The Opening Door=                           Justus M. Forman
+  519 =The Pearl Necklace=                            Arthur Applin
+  520 =Uncle Peter's Will=                         Silas K. Hocking
+  521 =A Woman's Word=                                A. & C. Askew
+  522 =A Hazardous Wooing=                              James Blyth
+  523 =Human Nature=                          Marie Connor Leighton
+  524 =The Salt of the Earth=                         Fred M. White
+  525 =A Debt Discharged=                             Edgar Wallace
+  526 =The Annexation Society=                       J. S. Fletcher
+  527 =The Allinson Honour=                         Harold Bindloss
+  528 =The Wraith of Olverstone=                    Florence Warden
+  529 =The Interior=                                Lindsay Russell
+  530 =The Footlight Glare=                           A. & C. Askew
+  531 =The Open Road=                           Halliwell Sutcliffe
+  532 =The Master of Merripit=                      Eden Phillpotts
+  533 =The Atonement=                                   James Blyth
+  534 =An Enemy Hath Done This=                      Joseph Hocking
+  535 =In the Cause of Freedom=                     A. W. Marchmont
+  536 =Story of a Great Sin=                  Marie Connor Leighton
+  537 =The Red Bicycle=                                 Fergus Hume
+  538 =Maid Marjory=                                  L. G. Moberly
+  539 =The Little Anarchist=                        A. W. Marchmont
+  540 =A Maker of Secrets=                             Wm. Le Queux
+  541 =Max Logan=                                        Paul Trent
+  542 =Ambition's Slave=                              Fred M. White
+  543 =The Tomb of Ts'in=                             Edgar Wallace
+
+
+WARD, LOCK & CO.'S
+
+STANDARD & DETECTIVE NOVELS
+
+_Large Demy 8vo. Attractive Wrapper and Frontispiece. 6d._
+
+    2 =Kenilworth=                                 Sir Walter Scott
+   12 =Midshipman Easy=                               Capt. Marryat
+   13 =Japhet in Search of a Father=                          Ditto
+   14 =Jacob Faithful=                                        Ditto
+   15 =Peter Simple=                                          Ditto
+   16 =The Pickwick Papers=                           Chas. Dickens
+   18 =Barnaby Rudge=                                         Ditto
+   19 =Old Curiosity Shop=                                    Ditto
+   20 =Martin Chuzzlewit=                                     Ditto
+   21 =Oliver Twist=                                          Ditto
+   22 =Dombey and Son=                                        Ditto
+   26 =The Innocents Abroad=                             Mark Twain
+   27 =Valentine Vox=                                 Henry Cockton
+   33 =Ben-Hur=                                         Lew Wallace
+   37 =Helen's Babies=                                 J. Habberton
+   38 =Other People's Children=                               Ditto
+   39 =A Bad Boy's Diary=
+   40 =Blunders of a Bashful Man=
+   41 =Catching a Husband=
+   45 =Out of the Hurly Burly=                           Max Adeler
+   48 =A Strange Disappearance=                         A. K. Green
+   51 =The Leavenworth Case=                                  Ditto
+   52 =The Circular Study=                                    Ditto
+   53 =Marked "Personal"=                                     Ditto
+   59 =Shadowed by Three=                               L. L. Lynch
+   61 =The Diamond Coterie=                                   Ditto
+   62 =Detective's Daughter=                                  Ditto
+   63 =Out of a Labyrinth=                                    Ditto
+   65 =The Lost Witness=                                      Ditto
+   68 =A Slender Clue=                                        Ditto
+   76 =Toilers of the Sea=                              Victor Hugo
+   77 =History of a Crime=                                    Ditto
+   78 =Ninety-Three=                                          Ditto
+   80 =Margaret Catchpole=                          Rev. R. Cobbold
+   81 =Freston Tower=                                         Ditto
+   84 =The Mystery of Orcival=                          E. Gaboriau
+   85 =Detective's Dilemma=                                   Ditto
+   86 =Detective's Triumph=                                   Ditto
+   88 =Caught in the Net=                                     Ditto
+   89 =The Champdoce Mystery=                                 Ditto
+   91 =Mr. Barnes of New York=                         A. C. Gunter
+   92 =The Princess of Copper=                                Ditto
+   95 =Jane Eyre=                                  Charlotte Bronte
+   97 =Looking Backward=                             Edward Bellamy
+  103 =Frank Fairlegh=                                Frank Smedley
+  104 =Alice's Adventures in Wonderland=              Lewis Carroll
+  106 =Tom Brown's School Days=                              Hughes
+  133 =Crime and the Criminal=                             R. Marsh
+  150 =Her Splendid Sin=                                Headon Hill
+  151 =Caged=                                                 Ditto
+  152 =The Avengers=                                          Ditto
+  160 =Lorna Doone=                                    R. Blackmore
+  162 =For the Term of His Natural Life=              Marcus Clarke
+  169 =East Lynne=                                  Mrs. Henry Wood
+  171 =The Shadow of Ashlydyat=                               Ditto
+  172 =The Channings=                                         Ditto
+  173 =Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles=                           Ditto
+  175 =Roland Yorke=                                          Ditto
+
+
+Ward, Lock & Co., Ltd., London, Melbourne & Toronto.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBERS' NOTES
+
+
+Page 6: FREMY standardised to FREMY; SURETE standardised to SURETE
+
+Page 33: hand-bag standardised to handbag
+
+Page 35: Place in the phrase "in the Place Vendome" as in the original
+
+Page 41: " changed to ' before You--you blackguard, and after
+You've--you've killed me!
+
+Page 42: note-paper standardised to notepaper
+
+Page 47: anenomes corrected to anemones in the phrase "drooping red
+anenomes"; manservant standardised to man-servant
+
+Page 126: reopened standardised to re-opened
+
+Page 127: " removed before If so, what then?
+
+Page 148: repass standardised to re-pass
+
+Page 150: over-burdened standardised to overburdened
+
+Page 160: nonplussed standardised to non-plussed in His question
+non-plussed me.
+
+Page 166: arm-chair standardised to armchair
+
+Page 202: " added after must have happened to her.
+
+Page 210: " changed to ' before You blackguard, Cane and ' added after
+why, you've killed me!
+
+Page 218: ? after No, don't do that as in the original
+
+Page 240: Bon jour spaced as in the original
+
+Page 244: " added after Here is the reply,
+
+Page 249: . added after non-plussed me for the moment
+
+Page 257: ' corrected to " before My interests!
+
+Page 267: " added after round of France.
+
+Page 269: . added after I asked frantically
+
+Page 309: Author of 108. His Little Girl standardised to Moberly
+
+Page 314: Blank author names as in original
+
+General: variable hyphenation of street-lamp and street lamp as in the
+original
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sign of Silence, by William Le Queux
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SIGN OF SILENCE ***
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