BlueHand

ByEdgarWallace

BLUEHAND

CHAPTERONE

Mr.SeptimusSalterpressedthebellonhistableforthethirdtimeandutteredasoftgrowl.

He was a stout, elderly man, and with his big red face and white side-whiskers,lookedmorelikeaprosperousfarmerthanasuccessfullawyer.Thecutofhisclotheswasqueerlyoutofdate,thehighwhitecollarandtheblacksatin cravat that bulged above a flowered waistcoat were of the fashion of1850,inwhichyearMr.Salterwasalittleaheadofhistimesofarasfashions

were concerned. But the years had caught him up and passed him, andalthough there was not a more up-to-date solicitor in London, he remainedfaithfultothestyleinwhichhehadmadeareputationasa"buck."

Hepressedthebellagain,thistimeimpatiently.

"Confoundthefellow!"hemuttered,andrisingtohisfeet,hestalkedintothelittleroomwherehissecretarywasusuallytobefound.

Hehadexpectedtofindtheapartmentempty,butitwasnot.Achairhadbeendrawn sideways up to the big ink-stained table, and kneeling on this, hiselbowson the table,his facebetweenhishands,wasayoungmanwhowasabsorbed in the perusal of a document, one of themany which littered thetable.

"Steele!" saidMr. Salter sharply, and the reader looked upwith a start andsprangtohisfeet.

He was taller than the average and broad of shoulder, though he gave animpressionoflitheness.Histannedfacespokeeloquentlyofdaysspentoutofdoors, thestraightnose, thefirmmouth,and thestrongchinwereallpartofthecharacteristic"soldierface"mouldedbyfouryearsofwarintoasemblanceofhardness.

Nowhewasa little confused,more like theguilty school-boy than theV.C.whohadtackledeightenemyaeroplanes,andhadcomebacktohisaerodromewithadozenbulletsinhisbody.

"Really,Steele,"saidMr.Salter reproachfully,"youare toobad. Ihaverungthebellthreetimesforyou."

"I'mawfullysorry,sir,"saidJimSteele,andthatdisarmingsmileofhiswentstraighttotheoldman'sheart.

"Whatareyoudoinghere?"growledMr.Salter, lookingatthepapersonthedesk,andthenwitha"tut"ofimpatience,"Aren'tyoutiredofgoingovertheDantoncase?"

"No,sir,I'mnot,"saidSteelequietly."IhaveafeelingthatLadyMaryDantoncan be found, and I think if she is found there will be a very satisfactoryexplanationforherdisappearance,andonewhichwillratherdisconcert—"Hestopped,fearfulofcommittinganindiscretion.

Mr.Salterlookedathimkeenlyandhelpedhimselftoapinchofsnuff.

"Youdon'tlikeMr.Groat?"heasked,andJimlaughed.

"Well,sir, it'snotformetolikehimordislikehim,"hereplied."Personally,I've no use for that kind of person. The only excuse a man of thirty canproducefornothavingbeeninthewar,isthathewasdeadatthetime."

"Hehadaweakheart,"suggestedMr.Salter,butwithoutanygreatconviction.

"I thinkhehad,"saidJimwitha little twistofhis lips."Weused tocall ita'poorheart'inthearmy.Itmademengosickontheeveofabattle,anddrovethem into dug-outswhen they should have been advancing across the openwiththeircomrades."

Mr.Salterlookeddownatthepapers.

"Put them away, Steele," he said quietly. "You're not going to get anysatisfaction out of the search for a woman who—why, she must havedisappearedwhenyouwereachildoffive."

"Iwish,sir—"beganSteele,andhesitated."Ofcourse,it'sreallynobusinessofmine,"he smiled, "and I'veno right to askyou,but I'd like tohearmoredetails of that disappearance if you can spareme the time—and if you feelinclined. I'veneverhad thecourage toquestionyoubefore.What is the realstoryofherdisappearance?"

Mr.Salterfrowned,andthenthefrownwasgraduallyreplacedbyasmile.

"Ithink,Steele,you'retheworstsecretaryIeverhad,"hesaidindespair."AndifIweren'tyourgodfatherandmorallyboundtohelpyou,Ishouldwriteyouapolite littlenote sayingyour serviceswerenot requiredafter theendof thisweek."

JimSteelelaughed.

"IhaveexpectedthateversinceI'vebeenhere,"hesaid.

Therewas a twinkle in the old lawyer's eyes. Hewas secretly fond of JimSteele; fonder than the boy could have imagined. But it was not onlyfriendshipandasenseofdutythatheldJimdowninhisjob.Theyoungmanwas useful, and, despite his seeming inability to hear bells when he waswrappedupinhisfavouritestudy,mostreliable.

"Shutthatdoor,"hesaidgruffly,andwhentheotherhadobeyed,"I'mtellingthisstorytoyou,"andhepointedawarningfingeratJimSteele,"notbecauseIwant to satisfyyour curiosity,butbecause Ihope that I'mgoing tokill allinterestintheDantonmysteryasyoucallitforevermore!LadyMaryDantonwastheonlydaughteroftheEarlofPlimstock—atitlewhichisnowextinct.Shemarried,whenshewasquiteayounggirl,JonathanDanton,amillionaire

shipowner, and the marriage was not a success. Jonathan was a hard, sourman, and a sickman, too. You talk aboutDigbyGroat having a bad heart,well,Jonathanhadarealbadone.Ithinkhisill-healthwaspartlyresponsibleforhisharshtreatmentofhiswife.Atanyrate,thebabythatwasborntothem,agirl,didnotseemtobring themtogether—infact, theygrewfartherapart.Danton had to go to America on business. Before he left, he came to thisoffice and, sitting at that very table, he signed a will, one of the mostextraordinarywills that I have ever had engrossed.He left thewhole of hisfortunetohisdaughterDorothy,whowasthenthreeorfourmonthsold.Intheeventofherdeath,heprovided that themoney shouldgo tohis sister,Mrs.Groat, but not until twenty years after the date of the child's death. In themeantimeMrs.Groatwasentitledtoenjoytheincomefromtheestate."

"Whydidhedothat?"askedJim,puzzled.

"I think that iseasilyunderstood,"saidMr.Salter.Space"Hewasprovidingagainst thechild'sdeath in its infancy,andheforesawthat thewillmightbecontested by Lady Mary. As it was drawn up—I haven't explained all thedetails—it could not be so contested for twenty years.However, it was notcontested," he said quietly. "Whilst Danton was in America, Lady Marydisappeared,andwithherthebaby.Nobodyknewwhereshewentto,butthebabyandastrangenurse,whoforsomereasonorotherhadcareofthechild,weretracedtoMargate.PossiblyLadyMarywastheretoo,thoughwehavenoevidence of this. We do know that the nurse, who was the daughter of afishermanandcouldhandleaboat,tookthechildoutontheseaonesummerdayandwasovertakenbyafog.Alltheevidenceshowsthatthelittleboatwasrundownbyaliner,anditsbatteredwreckwaspickedupatsea,andaweeklater the body of the nursewas recovered.We never knewwhat became ofLadyMary.Dantonreturnedadayortwoafterthetragedy,andthenewswasbrokentohimbyMrs.Groat,hissister.Itkilledhim."

"AndLadyMarywasneverseenagain?"

Saltershookhishead.

"Soyousee,myboy,"herose,anddroppedhishandontheother'sshoulder,"even if by amiracleyou could findLadyMary, you couldnot in anywayaffectthepositionofMrs.Groat,orherson.ThereisonlyonetinyactressinthisdramawhocouldeverhavebenefitedbyJonathanDanton'swill,andshe,"he lowered his voice until itwas littlemore than awhisper, "she is beyondrecall—beyondrecall!"

Therewasamomentofsilence.

"Irealizethat,sir,"saidJimSteelequietly,"only—"

"Onlywhat?"

"I have a queer feeling that there is something wrong about the wholebusiness, and Ibelieve that if Igavemy time to the task I couldunveil thismystery."

Mr.Salterlookedathissecretarysharply,butJimSteelemethiseyeswithoutfaltering.

"Yououghttobeadetective,"hesaidironically.

"IwishtoheavenIwas,"wastheunexpectedreply."IofferedmyservicestoScotlandYard two years agowhen theThirteenGangswere holding up thebankswithimpunity."

"Oh,youdid,didyou?"said the lawyersarcasticallyasheopened thedoor,and then suddenly he turned. "Why did I ring for you?" he asked. "Oh, Iremember! Iwantyou togetoutall thoseDanton leasesof theCumberlandproperty."

"IsMrs.Groatselling?"askedSteele.

"Shecan'tsellyet,"saidthelawyer,"butonthethirtiethofMay,providingacaveatisnotentered,shetakescontroloftheDantonmillions."

"Orhersondoes,"saidJimsignificantly.Hehadfollowedhisemployerbackto the big private officewith its tiers of deed boxes, itsworn furniture andthreadbarecarpetandgeneralairofmustiness.

"Adetective,eh?"snortedMr.Salterashesatdownathistable."Andwhatisyourequipmentforyournewprofession?"

Jimsmiled,buttherewasanunusuallookinhisface.

"Faith,"hesaidquietly.

"Faith?Whatisfaithtoadetective?"askedthestartledSalter.

"'Faith is the substanceof thingshoped for; theevidenceof thingsunseen.'"Jimquotedthepassagealmostsolemnly,andforalongtimeMr.Salterdidnotspeak.Thenhetookupaslipofpaperonwhichhehadscribbledsomenotes,andpasseditacrosstoJim.

"Seeifyoucan'detect'thesedeeds,theyareinthestrong-room,"hesaid,butinspiteofhisjestingwordshewasimpressed.

Jimtookuptheslip,examinedit,andwasabouttospeakwhentherecamea

tapatthedoorandaclerkslippedintotheroom.

"WillyouseeMr.DigbyGroat,sir?"heasked.

CHAPTERTWO

MR.SALTERglancedupwithahumorousglintinhiseye."Yes,"hesaidwithanod,andthentoJimashewasabouttomakeahurriedexit,"youcanwait,Steele.Mr.Groatwroteinhisletterthathewantedtoseethedeeds,andyoumayhavetoconducthimtothestrong-room."

JimSteelesaidnothing.

Presentlytheclerkopenedthedoorandayoungmanwalkedin.

Jimhadseenhimbeforeandhad likedhimlessevery timehehadmethim.Theoblongsallowface,withitsshortblackmoustache, thesleepyeyes,andrather large chin and prominent ears, he could have painted, if he were anartist,withhiseyesshut.AndyetDigbyGroatwasgood-looking.EvenJimcouldnotdenythat.Hewasacredittohisvalet.Fromthetopofhispomadedheadtohispatentshoeshewasanexquisite.Hismorningcoatwasofthemostfashionablecutandfittedhimperfectly.Onecouldhaveusedthesilkhathecarried in his hand as a mirror, and as he came into the room exuding adelicate aroma of Quelques Fleurs, Jim's nose curled. He hated men whoscentedthemselves,howeverdaintilytheprocesswascarriedout.

Digby Groat looked from the lawyer to Steele with that languid, almostinsolentlookinhisdarkeyes,whichthelawyerhatedasmuchashissecretary.

"Goodmorning,Salter,"hesaid.

He took a silk handkerchief from his pocket and, dusting a chair, sat downuninvited,restinghislemon-glovedhandsuponagold-headedebonycane.

"YouknowMr.Steele,mysecretary,"saidSalter.

Theothernoddedhisglossyhead.

"Oh,yes,he'saVictoriaCrossperson,isn'the?"heaskedwearily."Isupposeyoufinditverydullhere,Steele?Aplacelikethiswouldboremetodeath."

"Isupposeitwould,"saidJim,"butifyou'dhadfouryears'excitementofwar,youwouldwelcomethisplaceasacalmhavenofrest."

"I suppose so," said theother shortly.Hewasnot toowell pleasedby Jim'sreferencetothefactthathehadescapedthetrialsofwar.

"Now,Dr.Groat—"buttheotherstoppedhimwithagesture.

"Pleasedon'tcallme'doctor,'"hesaidwithapainedexpression."ThefactthatI have been through the medical schools and have gained my degrees insurgery is one which I wish you would forget. I qualified for my ownamusement, and ifpeopleget into thehabitof thinkingofmeasadoctor, Ishallbecalledupallhoursofthenightbyallsortsofwretchedpatients."

ItwasnewstoJimthatthissallowdandyhadgraduatedinmedicines.

"Icame tosee thoseLakeside leases,Salter,"Groatwenton."Ihavehadanoffer—Ishouldsay,mymotherhashadanoffer—fromasyndicatewhichiserectinganhoteluponherproperty. Iunderstand there is someclause in theleasewhichpreventsbuildingoperationsofthatcharacter.Ifso,itwasbeastlythoughtlessofoldDantontoacquiresuchaproperty."

"Mr.Dantondidnothingeitherthoughtlessorbeastlythoughtless,"saidSalterquietly, "and ifyouhadmentioned it inyour letter, I couldhave telephonedyoutheinformationandsavedyourcalling.Asitis,Steelewilltakeyoutothestrong-room,andyoucanexaminetheleasesatyourleisure."

GroatlookedatJimsceptically.

"Doesheknowanythingaboutleases?"heasked."AndmustIreallydescendinto your infernal cellar and catch my death of cold? Can't the leases bebroughtupforme?"

"IfyouwillgointoMr.Steele'sroomIdaresayhewillbringthemtoyou,"saidSalter,whodidnot likehisclientanymore thanJimdid.Moreover,hehadashrewdsuspicion that themoment theGroatsgainedpossessionof theDantonfortune,theywouldfindanotherlawyertolookaftertheiraffairs.

Jimtookthekeysandreturnedwithanarmfulofdeeds,todiscoverthatGroatwasnolongerwithhischief.

"Isenthimintoyourroom,"saidSalter."Taketheleasesinandexplainthemtohim.Ifthere'sanythingyouwanttoknowI'llcomein."

Jimfoundtheyoungmaninhisroom.Hewasexaminingabookhehadtakenfromashelf.

"Whatdoes 'dactylology'mean?"heasked,lookingroundasJimcamein."Iseeyouhaveabookonthesubject."

"Finger-prints,"saidJimSteelebriefly.Hehatedthecalmproprietorialattitudeoftheman,and,moreover,Mr.Groatwasexamininghisownprivatelibrary.

"Finger-prints, eh?" said Groat, replacing the book. "Are you interested infinger-prints?"

"Alittle,"saidJim."HerearetheLakesideleases,Mr.Groat.Imadeasketchyexamination of them in the strong-room and there seems to be no clausepreventingtheerectionofthebuildingyoumention."

Groattookthedocumentinhishandandturneditleafbyleaf.

"No," he said at last, and then, putting down the document, "so you'reinterested in finger-prints, eh? I didn't know old Salter did a criminalbusiness."

"Hehasverylittlecommonlawpractice,"saidJim.

"Whatarethese?"askedGroat.

By the side of Jim's desk was a bookshelf filled with thick black exercisebooks.

"Those aremy private notes," said Jim, and the other looked round with asneeringsmile.

"Whatthedevilhaveyougottomakenotesabout,Iwonder?"heasked,andbeforeJimcouldstophim,hehadtakenoneoftheexercisebooksdown.

"If you don't mind," said Jim firmly, "I would rather you left my privatepropertyalone."

"Sorry, but I thought everything in old Salter's office had to do with hisclients."

"You'renottheonlyclient,"saidJim.Hewasnotonetolosehistemper,butthisinsolentmanwastryinghispatiencesorely.

"Whatisitallabout?"askedthelanguidGroat,asheturnedonepage.

Jim,standingattheothersideofthetablewatchinghim,sawatouchofcolourcome into theman's yellow face. The black eyes hardened and his languidinterestdroppedawaylikeacloak.

"Whatisthis?"heaskedsharply."Whatthehellareyou—"

Hecheckedhimselfwithagreateffortandlaughed,but thelaughwasharshandartificial.

"You're a wonderful fellow, Steele," he said with a return to his old air ofinsouciance."Fancybotheringyourheadaboutthingsofthatsort."

Heputthebookbackwherehehadfoundit,pickedupanotheroftheleasesandappearedtobereadingitintently,butJim,watchinghim,sawthathewasnotreading,eventhoughheturnedpageafterpage.

"Thatisallright,"hesaidatlast,puttingtheleasedownandtakinguphistop-hat."Somedayperhapsyouwillcomeanddinewithus,Steele.I'vehadratherastunninglaboratorybuiltatthebackofourhouseinGrosvenorSquare.OldSaltercalledmedoctor!"Hechuckledquietlyasthoughatabigjoke."Well,ifyoucomealong,Iwillshowyousomethingthatwillatleastjustifythetitle."

ThedarkbrowneyeswerefixedsteadilyuponJimashestoodinthedoorway,oneyellow-glovedhandonthehandle.

"And,bytheway,Mr.Steele,"hedrawled,"yourstudiesareleadingyouintoadanger zone for which even a second Victoria Cross could not adequatelycompensateyou."

Heclosedthedoorcarefullybehindhim,andJimSteelefrownedafterhim.

"What the dickens does he mean?" he asked, and then remembered theexercisebookthroughwhichGroathadglanced,andwhichhadhadsostrangeaneffectuponhim.Hetookthebookdownfromtheshelfandturningtothefirstpage,read:"SomenotesupontheThirteenGang."

CHAPTERTHREE

THAT afternoon Jim Steele went intoMr. Salter's office. "I'm going to teanow,sir,"hesaid.

Mr. Salter glanced up at the solemn-faced clock that ticked audibly on theoppositewall.

"Allright,"hegrumbled;"butyou'reaverypunctualtea-drinker,Steele.Whatareyoublushingabout—isitagirl?"

"No,sir,"saidJimratherloudly."Isometimesmeetaladyattea,but—"

"Offyougo,"saidtheoldmangruffly."Andgivehermylove."

Jimwasgrinning,buthewasveryred,too,whenhewentdownthestairsinto

Marlborough Street. He hurried his pace because he was a little late, andbreathedasighofreliefashe turned into thequiet tea-shop tofind thathistablewasasyetunoccupied.

As his tall, athletic figure strode through the room to the little recessoverlooking Regent Street, which was reserved for privileged customers,many heads were turned, for Jim Steele was a splendid figure of Britishmanhood, and the grey laughing eyes had played havoc in many a tenderheart.

But hewas one of thosemenwhose very idealism forbade trifling.He hadgonestraightfromapublicschoolintothetragictheatreofconflict,andatanagewhenmost youngmenwere dancing attendance uponwomen, his soulwasbeingsearedbythered-hotironsofwar.

Hesatdownatthetableandthebeamingwaitresscameforwardtoattendtohisneeds.

"Youryoungladyhasn'tcomeyet,sir,"shesaid.

ItwasthefirsttimeshehadmadesuchareferencetoEuniceWeldon,andJimstiffened.

"Theyoungladywhohasteawithmeisnotmy'younglady,'"hesaidalittlecoldly,andseeingthathehadhurtthegirl,headdedwithagleamofmirthinthoseirresistibleeyes,"she'syouryounglady,really."

"I'm sorry," said the waitress, scribbling on her order pad to hide herconfusion."Isupposeyou'llhavetheusual?"

"I'llhavetheusual,"saidJimgravely,andthenwithaquickglanceatthedoorherosetomeetthegirlwhohadatthatmomententered.

Shewasslimofbuild,straightasaplummetlinefromchintotoe;shecarriedherself with a dignity which was so natural that the men who haunt thepavement to leerand importune,stoodononeside to letherpass,and then,after a glimpse of her face, cursed their own timidity. For it was a faceMadonna-likeinitspurity.Butablue-eyed,cherry-lippedMadonna,vitalandchallenging.Abudofagirlbreakingintothesummerbloomofexistence.Inthose sapphire eyes the beacon fires of life signalled her womanhood; theywereatonceapleaandawarning.Yetshecarriedthebannersofchildhoodnolesstriumphantly.Thesensitivemouth,theround,girlishchin,thesatinwhitethroatandclean,transparentskin,unmarked,unblemished,thesewerethegiftsofyouthwhichwerecarriedforwardtotheaccountofhercharm.

HereyesmetJim'sandshecameforwardwithoutstretchedhand.

"I'm late," she said gaily. "We had a tiresome duchess at the studio whowantedtobetakeninseventeendifferentposes—itisalwaystheplainpeoplewhogivethemosttrouble."

Shesatdownandstrippedhergloves,withasmileatthewaitress.

"The only chance that plain people have of looking beautiful is to bephotographedbeautifully,"saidJim.

EuniceWeldonwasworkingatafashionablephotographer'sinRegentStreet.Jim'smeetingwith her had been in the very room inwhich theywere nowsitting.Thehangingsatthewindowhadaccidentallycaughtfire,andJim,inextinguishing them, had burnt his hand. It was Eunice Weldon who haddressedtheinjury.

Aservicerenderedbyamantoawomanmaynotleadverymuchfarthertoabetteracquaintance.Whenawomanhelpsamanitisinvariablythebeginningofafriendship.Womenaresuspiciousoftheserviceswhichmengive,andyetfeelresponsibleforthemantheyhavehelped,eventotheslightestextent.

Since then they hadmet almost daily and taken tea together.Once Jim hadaskedhertogotoatheatre,aninvitationwhichshehadpromptlybutkindlydeclined. Thereafter he had made no further attempt to improve theiracquaintance.

"Andhowhaveyougotonwithyoursearchforthemissinglady?"sheasked,as she spread some jamon the thinbread-and-butterwhich thewaitresshadbrought.

Jim'snosewrinkled—acharacteristicgrimaceofhis.

"Mr.Saltermadeitcleartometo-daythatevenifIfoundthemissingladyitwouldn'tgreatlyimprovematters,"hesaid.

"Itwouldbewonderfulifthechildhadbeensavedafterall,"shesaid."Haveyoueverthoughtofthatpossibility?"

Henodded.

"There is no hope of that." he said, shaking his head, "but it would bewonderful, as you say, and more wonderful," he laughed, "if you were themissingheiress!"

"And there's no hope of that either." she said, shaking her head. "I'm thedaughterofpoorbuthonestparents,asthestory-bookssay."

"YourfatherwasaSouthAfrican,wasn'the?"

Shenodded.

"Poordaddywasamusician,andmotherIcanhardlyremember,butshemusthavebeenadear."

"Wherewereyouborn?"askedJim.

Shedidnotanswerimmediatelybecauseshewasbusywithherjamsandwich.

"InCapeTown—Rondebosch, tobeexact,"shesaidafterawhile."Whyareyousokeenonfindingyourlong-lostlady?"

"BecauseIamanxiousthatthemostunmitigatedcadin-theworldshouldnotsucceedtotheDantonmillions."

Shesatboltupright.

"TheDantonmillions?"sherepeatedslowly."Thenwho isyourunmitigatedcad?Youhaveneveryetmentionedthenamesofthesepeople."

Thiswasperfectlytrue.JimSteelehadnotevenspokenofhissearchuntilafewdaysbefore.

"AmannamedDigbyGroat."

Shestaredathimaghast.

"Why,what'sthematter?"heaskedinsurprise.

"When you said 'Danton' I remembered Mr. Curley—that is our chiefphotographer—sayingthatMrs.GroatwasthesisterofJonathanDanton?"shesaidslowly.

"DoyouknowtheGroats?"heaskedquickly.

"Idon'tknowthem,"shesaidslowly,"atleast,notverywell,only—"

shehesitated,"I'mgoingtobeMrs.Groat'ssecretary."

Hestaredather.

"Younevertoldmethis,"hesaid,andasshedroppedhereyestoherplate,herealizedthathehadmadeafauxpas."Ofcourse,"hesaidhurriedly,"there'snoreasonwhyyoushouldtellme,but—"

"It only happened to-day," she said. "Mr. Groat has had some photographstaken—hismothercamewithhimtothestudio.She'sbeenseveraltimes,andIscarcelynoticedthemuntilto-day,whenMr.Curleycalledmeintotheoffice

andsaidthatMrs.Groatwasinneedofasecretaryandthatitwasaverygoodposition;£5aweek,whichispracticallyallprofit,becauseIshouldliveinthehouse."

"WhendidMrs.Groatdecidethatshewantedasecretary?"askedJim,anditwasherturntostare.

"Idon'tknow.Whydoyouaskthat?"

"Shewasatourofficeamonthago,"saidJim,"andMr.Saltersuggestedthatsheshouldhaveasecretary tokeepheraccounts inorder.Shesaid thenshehatedtheideaofhavinganybodyinthehousewhowasneitheraservantnorafriendofthefamily."

"Well,she'schangedherviewsnow,"smiledthegirl.

"Thismeansthatweshan'tmeetatteaanymore.Whenareyougoing?"

"To-morrow,"wasthediscouragingreply.

Hewentback tohisofficemore thana littledispirited.Somethingdeepandvitalseemedtohavegoneoutofhislife.

"You'reinlove,youfool,"hegrowledtohimself.

Heopenedthebigdiarywhichitwashisbusinesstokeepandslammeddownthecoverssavagely.

Mr.Salterhadgonehome.Healwayswenthomeearly, andJim lithispipeandbegantoenteruptheday'stransactionsfromthescribblednoteswhichhischiefhadleftonhisdesk.

Hehadmadethelastentryandwasmakingafinalsearchofthedeskforsomescrapwhichbemighthaveoverlooked.

Mr.Salter'sdeskwasusuallytidy,buthehadahabitofconcealingimportantmemoranda,andJimturnedoverthelawbooksonthetableinasearchforanyscribbledmemohemighthavemissed.Hefoundbetweentwovolumesathingilt-edged notebook, which he did not remember having seen before. Heopenedit todiscover that itwasadiaryfor theyear1901.Mr.Salterwasinthe habit of making notes for his own private reading, using a queer legalshorthandwhichno clerkhad ever been able todecipher.The entries in thediarywereinthesecharacters.

Jim turned the leaves curiously,wonderinghowsomethodical amanas thelawyerhad leftaprivatediaryvisible.Heknewthat in thebiggreensafe inthelawyer'sofficewerestacksofthesebooks,andpossiblytheoldmanhad

takenoneouttorefreshhismemory.ThewritingwasGreektoJim,sothathefelt no compunction in turning the pages, filled as they were withindecipherable and meaningless scrawls, punctuated now and again with awordinlonghand.

Hestoppedsuddenly,forundertheheading"June4th"wasquitealongentry.Itseemedtohavebeenwritteninsubsequentlytotheoriginalshorthandentry,for it was in green ink. This almost dated the inscription. Eighteenmonthsbefore,anoculisthadsuggestedtoMr.Salter,whosufferedfromanunusualformofastigmatism,thatgreeninkwouldbeeasierforhimtoread,andeversincethenhehadusednoother.

Jim took in the paragraph before he realized that he was committing anunpardonableactinreadinghisemployers'privatenotes.

"Onemonthimprisonmentwithhardlabour.HollowayPrison.ReleasedJuly2nd. Madge Benson (this word was underlined), 14, Palmer's Terrace,Paddington. 74, Highcliffe Gardens,Margate. Long enquiries with boatmanwhoownedSaucyBelle.Nofurthertrace—"

"Whatonearthdoesthatmean?"mutteredJim."Imustmakeanoteofthat."

He realized now that he was doing something which might be regarded asdishonourable,buthewassoabsorbedinthenewcluesthatheovercamehisrepugnance.

Obviously, this entry referred to the missing Lady Mary. Who the womanMadgeBensonwas,what the reference toHollowayGaolmeant, hewoulddiscover.

Hemadeacopyoftheentryinthediaryatthebackofacard,wentbacktohisroom,lockedthedoorofhisdeskandwenthome,tothinkoutsomeplanofcampaign.

HeoccupiedasmallflatinabuildingoverlookingRegent'sPark.Itistruethathisparticularflatoverlookednothingbutthebacksofotherhouses,andadeepcuttingthroughwhichwerelaidthelinesoftheLondon,MidlandandScottishRailway—hecouldhavedroppedapennyonthecarriagesastheypassed,sonearwastheline.Buttherentoftheflatwasonlyone-halfofthatchargedforthoseinamorefavourableposition.Andhisflatwassmallerthanany.Hehadatinyprivateincome,amountingtotwoorthreepoundsaweek,andthat,withhis salary, enabled him tomaintain himself in something like comfort. Thethree roomshe occupiedwere filledwith priceless old furniture that he hadsavedfromthewreckageofhisfather'shome,whenthateasy-goingmanhaddied,leavingjustenoughtosettlehisdebts,whichweremany.

Jimhadgotoutoftheliftonthefourthfloorandhadputthekeyinthelockwhenheheardthedoorontheoppositesideof thelandingopen,andturnedround.

The elderly woman who came out wore the uniform of a nurse, and shenoddedpleasantly.

"Howisyourpatient,nurse?"askedJim.

"She'sverywell,sir,orratheraswellasyoucouldexpectabedriddenladytobe,"saidthewomanwithasmile."She'sgreatlyobligedtoyouforthebooksyousentintoher."

"Poorsoul,"saidJimsympathetically."Itmustbeterriblenottobeabletogoout."

Thenurseshookherhead.

"Isupposeitis,"shesaid,"butMrs.Fanedoesn'tseemtomind.Yougetusedtoitaftersevenyears."

A"rat-tat"abovemadeherlifthereyes.

"There'sthepost,"shesaid."Ithoughtithadgone.I'dbetterwaittillhecomesdown."

ThepostmanatFeatherdaleMansionswascarriedbythelifttothesixthfloorandworkedhisway to thegroundfloor.Presently theyheardhisheavyfeetcomingdownandheloomedinsight.

"Nothingforyou,sir,"hesaidtoJim,glancingatthebundleoflettersinhishand.

"MissMadgeBenson—that'syou,nurse,isn'tit?"

"That'sright,"saidthewomanbriskly,andtooktheletterfromhishand,thenwithalittlenodtoJimshewentdownstairs.

MadgeBenson!ThenamethathadappearedinSalter'sdiary!

CHAPTERFOUR

"I'm sick to death of hearing your views on the subject, mother," saidMr.DigbyGroat,ashehelpedhimself toaglassofport."It issufficientforyou

thatIwantthegirltoactasyoursecretary.Whetheryougiveheranyworktodoornot is amatterof indifference tome.Whateveryoudo,youmustnotleaveherwith the impression that she isbroughthere foranyotherpurposethantowriteyourlettersanddealwithyourcorrespondence."

Thewomanwhosatattheothersideofthetablelookedolderthanshewas.JaneGroatwasoversixty,buttherewerepeoplewhothoughtshewastwentyyearsmorethanthat.Heryellowfacewaspuckeredandlined,herblue-veinedhands, folded now on her lap,were gnarled and ugly.Only the dark browneyesheldtheirbrightnessundimmed.Herfigurewasbentandtherewasaboutheracurious,cringing,frightenedlookwhichwasalmostpitiable.Shedidnotlookatherson—sheseldomlookedatanybody.

"She'llspy,she'llpry,"shemoaned.

"Shutupaboutthegirl!"hesnarled,"andnowwe'vegotaminutetoourselves,I'dliketotellyousomething,mother."

Heruneasyeyeswentleftandright,butavoidedhim.Therewasamenaceinhistonewithwhichshewasalltoofamiliar.

"Lookatthis."

Hehadtakenfromhispocketsomethingthatsparkledandglitteredinthelightofthetablelamp.

"Whatisit?"shewhinedwithoutlooking.

"It is a diamond bracelet," he said sternly. "And it is the property of LadyWaltham.WewerestayingwiththeWalthamsfortheweek-end.Lookatit!"

His voicewas harsh and grating, and dropping her head she began toweeppainfully.

"Ifoundthatinyourroom,"hesaid,andhissuavemannerwasgone."Youoldthief!"hehissedacrossthetable,"can'tyoubreakyourselfofthathabit?"

"Itlookedsopretty,"shegulped,hertearstricklingdownherwitheredface."Ican'tresistthetemptationwhenIseeprettythings."

"IsupposeyonknowthatLadyWaltham'smaidhasbeenarrestedforstealingthis,andwillprobablygotoprisonforsixmonths?"

"Icouldn't resist the temptation,"shesnivelled,andhe threwthebraceletonthetablewithagrowl.

"I'm going to send it back to the woman and tell them it must have been

packedawaybymistake inyourbag. I'mnotdoing it toget thisgirl outoftrouble,buttosavemyselffromalotofunpleasantness."

"Iknowwhyyou'rebringingthisgirlintothehouse,"shesobbed;"itistospyonme."

Hislipscurledinasneer.

"To spy on you!" he said contemptuously, and laughed as he rose. "Nowunderstand,"hisvoicewasharshagain,"you'vegot tobreakyourselfof thishabitofpickingupthingsthatyoulike.I'mexpectingtogointoParliamentatthenextelection,andI'mnotgoingtohavemypositionjeopardizedbyanoldfoolofakleptomaniac.Ifthere'ssomethingwrongwithyourbrain,"headdedsignificantly,"I'veaneatlittlelaboratoryatthebackofthishousewherethatmightbeattendedto."

Sheshrankbackinterror,herfacegrey.

"You—you wouldn't do it—my own son!" she stammered. "I'm all right,Digby;it'sonly—"

Hesmiled,butitwasnotapleasantsmiletosee.

"Probablythereisalittlecompression,"hesaidevenly,"sometinymalgrowthofbone that ispressingonaparticularcell.Wecouldput that right foryou,mother—"

But she had thrown her chair aside and fled from the room before he hadfinished.Hepickedupthejewel,lookedatitcontemptuouslyandthrustitintohis pocket.Her curious thieving propensities he had known for a very longtimeandhadfoughttocheckthem,andashethought,successfully.

Hewent to his library, a beautiful apartment,with its silver grate, its costlyrosewood bookshelves and its rare furnishings, and wrote a letter to LadyWaltham.Hewrapped this about the bracelet, and having packed letter andjewelcarefullyinasmallbox,rangthebell.Amiddle-agedmanwithadarkforbiddingfaceansweredthesummons.

"DeliverthistoLadyWalthamatonce,Jackson,"saidDigby."Theoldwomanisgoingouttoaconcertto-night,bytheway,andwhenshe'soutIwantyoutomakeaverythoroughsearchofherroom."

Themanshookhishead."I'vealready lookedcarefully,Mr.Groat,"hesaid,"andI'vefoundnothing."

HewasonthepointofgoingwhenDigbycalledhimback.

"You'vetoldthehousekeepertoseetoMissWeldon'sroom?"

"Yes,sir,"wasthereply."Shewantedtoputheronthetopflooramongsttheservants,butIstoppedher."

"Shemusthave thebest room in thehouse," saidGroat. "See that there areplentyofflowers in theroomandput in thebookcaseand theChinese tablethatareinmyroom."

Themannodded.

"Whataboutthekey,sir?"heaskedaftersomehesitation.

"Thekey?"Digbylookedup."Thekeyofherroom?"

Themannodded.

"Doyouwantthedoortolock?"heaskedsignificantly.

Mr.Groat'slipscurledinasneer.

"You'rea fool,"he said. "Ofcourse, Iwant thedoor to lock.Putboltson ifnecessary."

The man looked his surprise. There was evidently between these twosomething more than the ordinary relationship which existed betweenemployerandservant."HaveyoueverrunacrossamannamedSteele?"askedDigby,changingthesubject.

Jacksonshookhishead.

"Whoishe?"heasked.

"He is a lawyer's clerk.Give him a look upwhen you've got some time tospare. No, you'd better not go—ask—ask Bronson. He lives at FeatherdaleMansions."

The man nodded, and Digby went down the steps to the waiting electricbrougham.

EuniceWeldonhadpackedhersmallwardrobeandthecabwaswaitingatthedoor.Shehadnoregretsatleavingthestuffyuntidylodgingwhichhadbeenher home for two years, and her farewell to her dishevelled landlady, whoseemedalways tohavedressed inaviolenthurry,wassoonover.Shecouldnot share Jim Steele's dislike of her new employers. Shewas too young toregardanewjobasanythingbutthebeginningofanadventurewhichheldallsortsoffascinatingpossibilities.Shesighedassherealizedthatthelittletea-

tabletalkswhichhadbeensopleasantafeatureofherlifewerenowtocometoanend,andyet—surelyhewouldmakesomeefforttoseeheragain?

She would have hours—perhaps half-days to herself, and then sherememberedwith dismay that she did not know his address! But hewouldknowhers.Thatthoughtcomfortedher,forshewantedtoseehimagain.Shewantedtoseehimmorethanshehadeverdreamtshewould.Shecouldcloseher eyes, andhishandsome face, those true smilingeyesofhis,would lookintohers.Theswingofhisshouldersashewalked,thesoundofhisvoiceashespoke—everycharacteristicofhiswaspresentinhermind.

Andthethoughtthatshemightnotseehimagain!

"I will see him—I will!" she murmured, as the cab stopped before theimposingportalsofNo.409,GrosvenorSquare.

Shewasalittlebewilderedbythearmyofservantswhocametoherhelp,andjustalittlepleasedbythedeferencetheyshowedtoher.

"Mrs.Groatwillreceiveyou,miss,"saidaswarthy-lookingman,whosenamesheafterwardslearntwasJackson.

She was ushered into a small back drawing-room which seemed poorlyfurnishedtothegirl'seye,buttoMrs.Groatwasluxury.

Theoldwomanresentedthepaymentofapennythatwasspentondecorationandfurniture,andonlythefearofhersonpreventedherfromdisputingeveryaccount which was put before her for settlement. The meeting was adisappointment toEunice.ShehadnotseenMrs.Groatexcept in thestudio,whereshewasbeautifullydressed.Shesawnowayellow-facedoldwoman,shabbilyattired,wholookedatherwithdarkdisapprovingeyes.

"Oh,soyou'retheyoungwomanwhoisgoingtobemysecretary,areyou?"shequavereddismally."Havetheyshownyouyourroom?"

"Notyet,Mrs.Groat,"saidthegirl.

"I hopeyouwill be comfortable," saidMrs.Groat in a voice that suggestedthatshehadnoverygreathopesforanythingofthesort.

"WhendoIbeginmyduties?"askedEunice,consciousofachill.

"Oh,anytime,"saidtheoldwomanoff-handedly.

Shepeeredupatthegirl.

"You're pretty," she said grudgingly, and Eunice flushed. Somehow that

compliment sounded like an insult. "I suppose that's why," saidMrs. Groatabsently.

"Whywhat?"askedthegirlgently.

She thought thewomanwasweakof intellectandhadalready lostwhateverenthusiasmshehadforhernewposition.

"Nothing,"saidtheoldwoman,andwithanoddismissedher.

TheroomintowhichEunicewasshownleftherspeechlessforawhile.

"Areyousurethisismine?"sheaskedincredulously.

"Yes,miss,"saidthehousekeeperwithasidelongglanceatthegirl.

"Butthisisbeautiful!"saidEunice.

Theroomwouldhavebeenremarkable if ithadbeen inapalace.Thewallswere panelled in brocade silk and the furniture was of the most beautifulquality.AsmallFrenchbed,carvedandgildedelaborately,invitedrepose.Silkhangingshungateithersideofthehead,andthroughtheFrenchwindowsshesaw a balcony gaywith laden flower-boxes.Under her feetwas a carpet ofbluevelvetpilethatcoveredthewholeoftheroom.Shelookedroundopen-mouthedatthemagnificenceofhernewhome;Thedressing-tablewasanoldFrenchmodel in theLouisQuinze style, inlaidwith gold, and thematchingwardrobe must have been worth a fortune. Near one windowwas a lovelywriting-table,andawell-filledbookcasewouldalmostbewithinreachofherhandwhenshelayinbed.

"Areyousurethisismyroom?"sheaskedagain.

"Yes, miss," said the housekeeper, "and this," she opened a door, "is yourbathroom. There is a bath to every room. Mr. Groat had the housereconstructedwhenhecameintoit."

The girl opened one of the Frenchwindows and stepped on to the balconywhich ranalong toa squareand largerbalconybuilt above theporchof thehouse.This,shediscovered,openedfromalandingabovethestairs.

Shedidnot seeMrs.Groat again that afternoon, andwhen she inquired shediscoveredthattheoldladywaslyingdownwithabadheadache.NorwasshetomeetDigbyGroat.Herfirstmealwaseateninsolitude.

"Mr. Groat has not come back from the country," explained Jackson, whowaitedonher."Areyoucomfortable,miss?"

"Quite,thankyou,"shesaid.

Therewas an air about thismanwhich she did not like. Itwas not that hefailedinrespect,orthathewasinanywayfamiliar,buttherewassomethingproprietorial in his attitude. It almost seemed as though he had a financialinterestintheplace,andshewasgladwhenhermealwasfinished.Shewentstraightuptoherroomalittledis-satisfiedthatshehadnotmetheremployer.ThereweremanythingswhichshewantedtoaskMrs.Groat;andparticularlydidshewishtoknowwhatdaysshewouldbefree.

Presentlysheswitchedoutthelight,andopeningtheFrenchwindows,steppedoutintothecool,fragrantnight.Theafter-glowofthesunstilllingeredinthesky.Thesquarewasstuddedwithlights;analmostincessantstreamofmotor-car traffic passed under her window, for Grosvenor Square is the short cutbetweenOxfordStreetandPiccadilly.

The stars spangled the clear sky with a million specks of quivering light.Againstthejewelledrobeofthenorthernheavens,theroofsandsteeplesandstacksofLondonhadamysteryandwonderwhichonlythelightofdaycoulddispel. And in the majestic solitude of the night, Eunice's heart seemed toswell until she could scarcely breathe. It was not the magic of stars thatbrought theblood flaming toher face;nor themusicof the trees. Itwas theflash of understanding that one half of her, one splendid fragment of thepatternonwhichherlifewascut,wassomewherethereinthedarknessasleepperhaps—thinking of her, she prayed. She saw his face with startlingdistinctness, saw the tenderkindnessofhis eyes, felt onhermoist palm thepressureofthosestrongbrownfingers....

Withasighwhichwashalfasob,sheclosedthewindowanddrewthesilkencurtains,shuttingouttheimmortalsplendoursofnaturefromherview.

Fiveminuteslatershewasasleep.

Howlongshesleptshedidnotknow.Itmusthavebeenhours,she thought.Thestreamoftraffichadceasedandtherewasnosoundfromoutside,savethedistant hoot of a motor-horn. The room was in darkness, and yet she wasconsciousthatsomebodywasthere!

Shesatupinbedandacoldshiverrandownherspine.Somebodywasintheroom!She reachedout to turnon the light andcouldhave shrieked, for shetouchedahand,acold,smallhandthatwasrestingonthebedsidetable.Forasecondshewasparalysedandthenthehandwassuddenlywithdrawn.Therewasarustleofcurtainringsandthemomentaryglimpseofafigureagainstthelessergloomofthenight,and,shakingineverylimb,sheleaptfromthebedandswitchedonthelight.Theroomwasempty,buttheFrenchwindowwas

ajar.

And then she saw on the table by her side, a grey card. Picking it upwithshakinghandssheread:

"Onewho loves you, begs you for your life andhonour's sake to leave thishouse."

Itborenoothersignaturethanasmallbluehand.Shedroppedthecardonthebed and stood staring at it for awhile, and then, slipping into her dressing-gown,sheunlockedthedoorofherroomandwentoutintothepassage.Adimlight was burning at the head of the stairs. She was terror-stricken, hardlyknewwhatshewasdoing,andsheseemedtoflydownthestairs.

Shemustfindsomebody,somelivinghumancreature,somerealitytowhichshecouldtakehold.Butthehousewassilent.Thehalllampwasburning,andbyitslightshesawtheoldclockandwasdimlyconsciousthatshecouldhearitssolemnticking.Itwasthreeo'clock.Theremustbesomebodyawakeinthehouse. The servants might still be up, she thought wildly, and ran down apassagetowhatshethoughtwastheentrancetotheservants'hall.Sheopeneda door and found herself in another passage illuminated by one light at thefarther end,where further progresswas arrested by awhite door. She racedalonguntilshecametothedoorandtriedtoopenit.Therewasnohandleanditwasaqueerdoor.Itwasnotmadeofwood,butofpaddedcanvas.

Andthenasshestoodbewildered,therecamefrombehindthepaddeddoorasquealofagony,soshrill,sofullofpain,thatherbloodseemedtoturntoice.

Again it shrieked,and turningshe fledback thewayshehadcome, throughthe hall to the front door. Her trembling fingers fumbled at the key andpresentlythelocksnappedandthedoorflewopen.Shestaggeredoutontothebroad steps of the house and stopped, for amanwas sitting on the head ofthosesteps.

Heturnedhis faceas thedooropened,and in the light fromthehallhewasrevealed.ItwasJimSteele!

CHAPTERFIVE

JIMcamestumblingtohisfeet,staringinblankamazementattheunexpectedapparition, and for a moment thus they stood, facing one another, the girlstrickendumbwithfearandsurprise.

Shethoughthewaspartofadreadfuldream,animagethatwasconjuredbyherimaginationandwouldpresentlyvanish.

"Jim—Mr.Steele!"shegasped.

Inastridehewasbyherbide,hisarmabouthershoulders.

"What iswrong?"heaskedquickly,and inhisanxietyhisvoicewasalmostharsh.

Sheshudderedanddroppedherfaceonhisbreast.

"Oh,itwasdreadful,dreadful!"shewhispered,andheheardthenoteofhorrorinherlowvoice.

"MayIaskwhatisthemeaningofthis?"demandedasuavevoice,andwithastartthegirlturned.

Amanwas standing in thedoorwayand for a second shedidnot recognizehim.EvenJim,whohadseenDigbyGroatatclosequarters,didnotknowhimin his unusual attire.Hewas dressed in a longwhite overallwhich reachedfromhisthroattohisfeet;overhisheadwasawhitecapwhichfittedhimsothat not a particle of his hair couldbe seen.Bandsofwhite elastic heldhiscuffsdosetohiswristsandbothhandswerehiddeninbrownrubbergloves.

"MayIagainaskyou,MissWeldon,whyyouarestandingonmydoorstepinthe middle of the night, attired in clothes which I do not think are quitesuitable for streetwear?Perhapsyouwill come insideandexplain,"he saidsteppingback."GrosvenorSquare isnotquiteused to this formofmidnightentertainment."

StillclutchingJim'sarm,thegirlwentslowlybacktothepassageandDigbyshutthedoor.

"AndMr. Steele, too," saidDigbywith ironic surprise, "you're a very earlycaller."

Jim said nothing. His attention was wholly devoted to the girl. She wastremblingfromheadtofoot,andhefoundachairforher.

"Thereareafewexplanationsdue,"hesaidcoolly,"butIratherthinktheyarefromyou,Mr.Groat."

"Fromme?'"Mr.Groatwasgenuinelyunpreparedforthatdemand.

"Sofarasmypresenceisconcerned,thatcanbeexplainedinaminute,"saidJim."Iwasoutsidethehouseafewmomentsagowhenthedoorswungopen

andMissWeldonranoutinastateofabjectterror.Perhapsyouwilltellme,Mr.Groat,whythisladyisreducedtosuchacondition?"

TherewasacoldmenaceinhistonewhichDigbyGroatdidnotliketohear.

"I have not the slightest idea what it is all about," he said. "I have beenworkinginmylaboratoryforthelasthalf-hour,andthefirstintimationIhadthatanythingwaswrongwaswhenIheardthedooropen."

Thegirlhadrecoverednow,andsomeofthecolourhadreturnedtoherface,yethervoiceshookassherecitedtheincidentsofthenight,bothmenlisteningattentively.

Jim took particular notice of theman's attitude, and hewas satisfied in hismindthatDigbyGroatwasasmuchinignoranceofthevisittothegirl'sroomashehimself.Whenshehadfinished,groatnodded.

"The terrifying cry you heard from my laboratory," he smiled, "is easilyexplained.Nobodywasbeinghurt;atleast,ifhewasbeinghurt,itwasforhisowngood.WhenIcamebacktomyhouseto-night,Ifoundmylittledoghadapieceofglassinitspaw,andIwasextractingit."

Shedrewasighofrelief.

"I'm so sorry I made such a fuss," she said penitently, "but I —I wasfrightened."

"Youaresuresomebodywasinyourroom?"askedDigby.

"Absolutelycertain."Shehadnottoldhimaboutthecard.

"They came through the French window from the balcony?" She nodded."MayIseeyourroom?"

Shehesitatedforamoment.

"Iwillgoinfirsttotidyit,"shesaid.Sherememberedthecardwasonthebed,andshewasparticularlyanxiousthatitshouldnotberead.

Uninvited Jim Steele followed Digby upstairs into the beautiful room. Themagnificence of the room, its hangings and costly furniture, did not fail toimpress him, but the impression he received was not favourable to DigbyGroat.

"Yes,thewindowisajar.Youaresureyoufastenedit?"

Thegirlnodded.

"Yes. I left both fanlights down to get the air," she pointed above, "but Ifastenedthesedoors.Idistinctlyrememberthat."

"Butifthispersoncameinfromthebalcony,"saidDigby,"howdidheorshegetthere?"

HeopenedtheFrenchdoorandsteppedoutintothenight,walkingalongthebalconyuntilhecametothesquarespaceabovetheporch.Therewasanotherwindowherewhichgaveontothelandingattheheadofthestairs.Hetriedit—itwasfastened.Comingbackthroughthegirl'sroomhediscoveredthatnotonlywasthecatchinitssocket,butthekeywasturned.

"Strange,"hemuttered.

His first impression had been that it was hismother who, with her strangewhims, had been searching the room for some trumpery trinket which hadtaken her fancy. But the old woman was not sufficiently agile to climb abalcony,norhadshethecouragetomakeamidnightforay.

"My own impression is that you dreamt it. MissWeldon," he said, with asmile."AndnowIadviseyoutogotobedandtosleep.I'msorrythatyou'vehadthisunfortunateintroductiontomyhouse."

Hehadmadeno reference to theprovidential appearanceof JimSteele, nordidhespeakofthisuntiltheyhadsaidgoodnighttothegirlandhadpasseddownthestairsintothehallagain.

"Ratheracoincidence,yourbeinghere,Mr.Steele,"hesaid."Whatwereyoudoing?Studyingdactylology?"

"Somethinglikethat,"saidJimcoolly.

Mr.DigbyGroatsearchedforacigaretteinhispocketandlitit.

"IshouldhavethoughtthatyourworkwassoarduousthatyouwouldnothavetimeforearlymorningstrollsinGrosvenorSquare."

"Wouldyoureally?"saidJim,andthensuddenlyDigbylaughed.

"You'reaqueerdevil,"hesaid."Comealongandseemylaboratory."

Jimwasanxioustoseethelaboratory,andtheinvitationsavedhimfromthenecessityofmaking further reference to the terrifyingcrywhichEunicehadheard.

Theyturneddownalongpassagethroughthepaddeddoorandcametoalargeannexe,thewallsofwhichwereofwhiteglazedbrick.Therewasnowindow,

the light in thedaytimebeingadmitted throughaglass roof.Now,however,thesewerecoveredbyblueblindsandtheroomoweditsilluminationtotwopowerfullightswhichhungaboveasmalltable.Itwasnotanordinarytable;itslegswereofthiniron,terminatinginrubber-tyredcastors.Thetopwasofwhiteenamellediron,withcuriouslittlescrewholdsoccurringatintervals.

Itwasnot the tablesomuchas theoccupantwhich interestedJim.Fasteneddownbytwoironbands,oneofwhichwasaboutitsneckandoneaboutthelowerportionof itsbody, its fourpawsfastenedby thincords,wasadog,arough-haired terrier who turned its eyes upon Jim with an expression ofpleadingsohumanthatJimcouldalmostfeelthemessagethatthepoorlittlethingwassending.

"Yourdog,eh?"saidJim.

Digbylookedathim.

"Yes,"hesaid."Why?"

"Haven'tyoufinishedtakingtheglassoutofhispaw?"

"Notquite,"saidtheothercoolly.

"Bytheway,youdon'tkeephimveryclean,"Jimsaid.

Digbyturned.

"Whatthedevilareyouhintingat?"heasked.

"I am merely suggesting that this is not your dog, but a poor stray terrierwhich you picked up in the street half an hour ago and enticed into thishouse."

"Well?"

"I'dsaveyoufurthertroublebysayingthatIsawyoupickitup."

Digby'seyesnarrowed.

"Oh,youdid,didyou?"hesaidsoftly."Soyouwerespyingonme?"

"Notexactlyspyingonyou,"saidJimcalmly,"butmerelysatisfyingmyidlecuriosity."

Hishandfellonthedogandhestrokeditsearsgently.

Digbylaughed.

"Well, ifyouknowthat,Imightaswell tellyouthatIamgoingtoevacuatethesensorynerve.I'vealwaysbeencuriousto—"

Jimlookedround.

"Where is your anaesthetic?" he asked gently, and he was most dangerouswhenhisvoicesanktothatsoftnote.

"Anaesthetic?GoodLord,"scoffedtheother,"youdon'tsupposeI'mgoingtowastemoneyonchloroformforadog,doyou?"

His fingers restednear thepoorbrute'sheadand thedog, straining forward,lickedthetorturer'shand.

"Filthylittlebeast!"saidDigby,pickingupatowel.

Hetookathickrubberband,slippeditoverthedog'smouthandnose.

"Now lick," he laughed; "I think that will stop his yelping. You're a bitchicken-hearted,aren'tyou,Mr.Steele?Youdon'trealizethatmedicalscienceadvancesbyitsexperimentsonanimals."

"Irealizethevalueofvivisectionundercertainconditions,"saidJimquietly,"butalldecentdoctorswhoexperimentonanimalsrelievethemoftheirpainbefore they use the knife; and all doctors, whether they are decent orotherwise,receiveacertificateofpermissionfromtheBoardofTradebeforetheybegintheirexperiments.Whereisyourcertificate?"

Digby'sfacedarkened.

"Lookhere,don'tyoucomeheretryingtobullyme,"heblustered."Ibroughtyouherejusttoshowyoumylaboratory—"

"Andifyouhadn'tbroughtmein,"interruptedJim."Ishouldjollywellhavewalkedin,becauseIwasn'tsatisfiedwithyourexplanation.Oh,yes,Iknow,you'regoingtotellmethatthedogwasonlyfrightenedandtheyellsheheardwas when you put that infernal clamp on his neck. Now, I'll tell yousomething,Mr.DigbyGroat. I'llgiveyouthreeminutes toget theclampoffthatdog."

Digby'syellowfacewaspuckeredwithrage.

"AndifIdon't?"hebreathed.

"I'llputyouwherethedogis,"saidJim."Andpleasedon'tpersuadeyourselfthatIcouldn'tdoit?"

Therewasamoment'ssilence.

"Taketheclampsoffthatdog."saidJim.

Digbylookedathim.

ForamomenttheygazedatoneanotherandtherewasalookofmalignityintheeyesthatdroppedbeforeJim's.Anotherminuteandthedogwasfree.

Jimliftedtheshiveringlittleanimalinhisarmsandrubbeditsbonyhead,andDigbywatchedhimglowering,histeethshowinginhisrage.

"I'll remember this," he snarled. "By God, you shall rue the day you everinterferedwithme!"

Jim'ssteadyeyesmettheman's.

"Ihaveneverfearedathreatinmylife,"hesaidquietly."I'mnotlikelytobescarednow.Iadmitthatvivisectionisnecessaryunderproperconditions,butmen likeyouwho tortureharmless animals froma sheer lust of cruelty, arebringingdiscredituponthenoblestofprofessions.Youhurtinordertosatisfyyour own curiosity. You have not the slightest intention of using theknowledgeyougainforthebenefitofsufferinghumanity.WhenIcameintothis laboratory," he said—he was standing at the door as he spoke—"thereweretwobruteshere.Iamleavingthebiggeronebehind."

Heslammedthepaddeddoorandwalkedoutintothepassage,leavingamanwhosevanitywashurtbeyondforgiveness.

ThentohissurpriseGroatheardJim'sfootstepsreturningandhisvisitorcamein.

"Didyoucloseyourfrontdoorwhenyouwentupstairs?"

Digby's eyebrows rose. He forgot for the moment the insult that had beenofferedhim.

"Yes—why?"

"It is wide open now," said Jim. "I guess your midnight visitor has gonehome."

CHAPTERSIX

INthecheerfulsunlightofthemorningallEunice'sfearhadvanishedandshefelt heartily ashamedof herself that shehadmade such a commotion in thenight.Andyettherewasthecard.Shetookitfromunderherpillowandreaditagain,withapuzzledfrown.Somebodyhadbeenintheroom,butitwasnotasomebodywhomshecouldregardasanenemy.Thenathoughtstruckherthatmadeherheartleap.CouldithavebeenJim?Sheshookherhead.SomehowshewascertainitwasnotJim,andsheflushedatthethought.Itwasnothishandshehadtouched.Sheknewtheshapeandcontourof that.Itwaswarmand firm, almost electric; thatwhich she had touched had been the hand ofsomebodywhowasold,ofthatshewassure.

ShewentdowntobreakfasttofindGroatstandingbeforethefire,adebonair,perfectly dressed man, who showed no trace of fatigue, though he had notgonetobeduntilfouro'clock.

Hegaveheracheerygreeting.

"Goodmorning,MissWeldon,"hesaid."Ihopeyouhaverecoveredfromyournightmare."

"Igaveyoualotoftrouble,"shesaidwitharuefulsmile."Iamsoverysorry."

"Nonsense,"hesaidheartily."IamonlygladthatourfriendSteelewastheretoappeaseyou.Bytheway,MissWeldon,Ioweyouanapology.Itoldyoualielastnight."

Shelookedathimopen-eyed.

"Didyou,Mr.Groat?"shesaid,andthenwithalaugh,"Iamsureitwasn'taveryseriousone."

"Itwasreally.Itoldyouthatmylittledoghadapieceofglassinhispaw;thetruthwasthatitwasn'tmydogatall,butadogthatIpickedupinthestreet.Iintendedmakinganexperimentuponhim;youknowIamadoctor."

Sheshivered.

"Oh,thatwasthenoise?"sheaskedwithawrylittleface.

Heshookhishead.

"No,hewasjustscared,hehadn'tbeenhurtatall—andintruthIdidn'tintendhurtinghim.Yourfriend,however,persuadedmetoletthelittlebeggargo."

Shedrewalongsighofrelief.

"I'msoglad,"shesaid."Ishouldhavefeltawful."

Helaughedsoftlyashetookhisplaceatthetable.

"Steele thought I was going to experiment without chloroform, but that, ofcourse,wasabsurd.Itisdifficulttogettheunprofessionalmantorealizewhatan enormous help tomedical science these experiments are.Of course," hesaid airily, "they are conducted without the slightest pain to the animal. Ishould nomore think of hurting a little dog than I should think of hurtingyou."

"I'msureyouwouldn't,"shesaidwarmly.

DigbyGroatwasacleverman.HeknewthatJimwouldmeet thegirlagainandwouldgiveherhisversionofthesceneinthelaboratory.Itwasnecessary,therefore, that he should get his story in first, for this girl whom he hadbroughttothehouseforhisamusementwasmorelovelythanhehaddreamt,andhedesiredtostandwellwithher.

Digby, who was a connoisseur in female beauty, had rather dreaded themorningmeal. The beauty of women seldom survives the cruel searchlightwhich the grey eastern light throws upon their charms. Love had nevertouched him, though many women had come and gone in his life. EuniceWeldonwasamorethrillingadventure,somethingthatwouldsurelybrightena drearyweek or two; an interest to stimulate him until another stimulationcameintosight.

She survived theordealmagnificently,he thought.The tender textureof theskin, untouched by an artificial agent, was flawless; the eyes, bright andvigorous with life, sparkled with health; the hands that lay upon the table,whenshewaslisteningtohim,wereperfectlyandbeautifullymoulded.

She on her side was neither attracted nor repelled. Digby Groat was just aman.Oneofthethousandsofmenwhopassandrepassinthecorridoroflife;someseen, someunnoticed, some interesting, someabhorrent.Somestop tospeak,somepasshurriedlybyanddisappearthroughstrangedoorsnevertobeseenagain.Hehad"stoppedtospeak,"buthadhevanishedfromsightthroughoneofthosedoorsofmysteryshewouldhavebeenneithersorrynorglad.

"Mymothernevercomestobreakfast,"saidDigbyhalfwaythroughthemeal."Doyouthinkyouwilllikeyourwork?"

"Idon'tknowwhatitisyet,"sheanswered,hereyestwinkling.

"Motherisratherpeculiar,"hesaid,"andjustalittleeccentric,butIthinkyouwill be sensible enough to get onwith her. And theworkwill not be veryheavy at first. I am hoping later that you will be able to assist me in my

anthropologicalclassification."

"Thatsoundsterriblyimportant."shesaid."Whatdoesitmean?"

"Iammakinga studyof facesandheads,"he saideasily, "and to thatend Ihavecollectedthousandsofphotographsfromallpartsoftheworld.Ihopetogetamillion.It isasciencewhichisverymuchneglectedinthiscountry.ItappearstobetheexclusivemonopolyoftheItalians.YouhaveprobablyheardofMantaganzaandLombroso?"

Shenodded.

"Theyarethegreatcriminalscientists,aren'tthey?"shesaidtohissurprise.

"Oh,Isee,youknowsomethingaboutit.Yes,Isupposeyouwouldcallthemcriminalscientists."

"Itsoundsfascinating,"shesaid,lookingathiminwonder,"andIshouldliketohelpyouifyourmothercanspareme."

"Oh,she'llspareyou,"hesaid.

Herhandlayonthetableinvitinglyneartohis,buthedidnotmove.Hewasaquick,accuratejudgeofhumannature.Heknewthattotouchherwouldbethefalsestofmoves. If it hadbeenanotherwoman—yes,hishandwouldhaveclosedgentlyoverhers, therewouldhavebeenagiggleofembarrassment,adroppingofeyes,andtherestwouldhavebeensoeasy.Butifhehadfollowedthatcoursewithher,heknewthateveningwouldfindhergone.Hecouldwait,andshewasworthwaitingfor.Shewasgloriouslylovely,hethought.Halfthepleasureoflifeliesinthechase,andthechaseisnomorethanaviolentformofanticipation.Somemenfindtheirgreatestjoyinvisionsthatmustsoonerorlatermaterialize,andDigbyGroatwasoneofthese.

She looked up and saw his burning eyes fixed on her and flushed.With aneffortshelookedagainandhewasanormalman.

Wasitanillusionofhers,shewondered?

CHAPTERSEVEN

THEfirstfewdaysofherengagementwereverytryingtoEuniceWeldon.

Mrs.Groatdidnotoverworkher,indeedEunice'scomplaintwasthattheold

womanrefusedtogiveheranyworkatall.

OnthethirddayatbreakfastshespokeonthemattertoDigbyGroat.

"I'mafraidIamnotverymuchusehere,Mr.Groat,"shesaid;"it isasin totakeyourmoney."

"Why?"heaskedquickly.

"Yourmotherpreferstowriteherownletters,"shesaid,"andreallythosedon'tseemtobeverymany!"

"Nonsense,"hesaidsharply,andseeingthatbehadstartledthegirlhewentoninamuchgentlertone:"Yousee,mymotherisnotusedtoserviceofanykind.She'soneofthosewomenwhoprefertodothingsforthemselves,andshehassimplywornherselftoashadowbecauseofthisindependenceofhers.Therearehundredsofjobsthatshecouldgiveyoutodo!Youmustmakeallowanceforoldwomen,MissWeldon.Theytakealongtimetoworkupconfidenceinstrangers."

"Irealizethat,"shenodded.

"Poormotherisratherbewilderedbyherownmagnificence,"hesmiled,"butIam sure when she gets to know you, you will find your days very fullyoccupied."

Heleftthemorning-roomandwentstraightintohismother'slittleparlour,andfoundherinherdressing-roomcrouchingoveratinyfire.Heclosedthedoorcarefullyandwalkedacrosstoherandshelookedupwithalittlelookoffearinhereyes.

"Whyaren'tyougivingthisgirlworktodo?"heaskedsharply.

"There'snothingforhertodo,"shewailed."Mydear,sheissuchanexpense,andIdon'tlikeher."

"You'llgiveherwork todo fromto-day,"hesaid,"anddon't letme tellyouagain!"

"She'llonlyspyonme,"saidMrs.Groat fretfully,"andIneverwrite letters,youknowthat.Ihaven'twrittenaletterforyearsuntilyoumademewritethatnotetothelawyer."

"You'llfindworkforhertodo,"repeatedDigbyGroat."Doyouunderstand?Getalltheaccountsthatwe'vehadforthepasttwoyears,andlethersortthemoutandmakealistofthem.Giveheryourbankaccount.Lethercomparethechequeswiththecounterfoils.Giveheranything.Damnyou!Youdon'twant

metotellyoueveryday,doyou?"

"I'lldo it, I'lldo it,Digby,"shesaidhurriedly."You'reveryhardonme,myboy.Ihatethishouse,"shesaidwithsuddenvehemence."Ihatethepeopleinit.Ilookedintoherroomthismorninganditislikeapalace.Itmusthavecostus thousands of pounds to furnish that room, and all for a work-girl—it issinful!"

"Nevermindaboutthat,"hesaid."Findsomethingtooccupyhertimeforthenextfortnight."

ThegirlwassurprisedthatmorningwhenMrs.Groatsentforher.

"I'veoneortwolittletasksforyou,miss—Ineverrememberyourname."

"Eunice,"saidthegirl,smiling.

"Idon'tlikethenameofEunice,"grumbledtheoldwoman."ThelastonewasLola!Aforeigngirl.Iwasgladwhensheleft.Haven'tyougotanothername?"

"Weldonismyothername,"saidthegirlgood-humouredly,"andyoucancallme'Weldon'or'Eunice'oranythingyoulike,Mrs.Groat."

Theoldwomansniffed.

She had in front of her a big drawer packedwith chequeswhich had comebackfromthebank.

"Go through these," she said, "and do something with them. I don't knowwhat."

"Perhapsyouwantmetofastenthemtothecounterfoils,"saidthegirl.

"Yes,yes, that's it," saidMrs.Groat. "Youdon'twant todo ithere,doyou?Yes, you'dbetter do it here," shewentonhastily. "I don'twant the servantspryingintomyaccounts."

Euniceputthedraweronthetable,gatheredtogetherthestubsofthechequebooks,andwithalittlebottleofgumbeganherwork,theoldwomanwatchingher.

When, for greater comfort, the girl took off the goldwrist-watchwhich shewore,apresentfromherdeadfather,Mrs.Groat'sgreedyeyesfocusseduponitandalookofanimationcameintothedullface.

Itlookedlikebeingalongjob,butEunicewasamethodicalworker,andwhenthegonginthehallsoundedforlunch,shehadfinishedherlabours.

"There,Mrs.Groat," she saidwith a smile, "I think that is the lot.All yourchequesarehere."

She put away the drawer and looked round for her watch, but it haddisappeared. It was at that moment that Digby Groat opened the door andwalkedin.

"Hullo,MissWeldon,"hesaidwithhisengagingsmile. "I'vecomeback forlunch.Did you hear the gong,mother?You ought to have letMissWeldongo."

Butthegirlwaslookinground.

"Haveyoulostanything?"askedDigbyquickly.

"My little watch. I put it down a few minutes ago, and it seems to havevanished,"shesaid.

"Perhaps it is in the drawer," stammered the oldwoman, avoiding her son'seye.

Digbylookedatherforamoment,thenturnedtoEunice.

"Will you please ask Jackson to order my car for three o'clock?" he askedgently.

He waited until the door closed behind the girl and then: "Where is thatwatch?"heasked.

"Thewatch,Digby?"quaveredtheoldwoman.

"Thewatch,curseyou!"hesaid,hisfaceblackwithrage.

Sheputherhandintoherpocketreluctantlyandproducedit.

"Itwassopretty,"shesnivelled,andhesnatcheditfromherhand.

AminutelaterEunicereturned.

"Wehavefoundyourwatch,"hesaidwithasmile."Youhaddroppeditunderthetable."

"IthoughtI'dlookedthere,"shesaid."Itisnotavaluablewatch,butitservesadoublepurpose."

Shewaspreparingtoputiton.

"Whatotherpurposethantotellyouthetime?"askedDigby.

"It hides a very ugly scar," she said, and extended her wrist. "Look." Shepointed to a round redmark, the size of a sixpence. It looked like a recentburn.

"That'squeer,"saidDigby,looking,andthenheheardastrangledsoundfromhismother.Her facewas twisted anddistorted,her eyeswereglaringat thegilt'swrist.

"Digby,Digby!"Hervoicewasathinshriekofsound."Oh,myGod!"

Andshefellacrossthetableandbeforehecouldreachher,haddroppedtothefloorinaninertheap.

Digby stooped over his mother and then turned his head slowly to thefrightenedgirl.

"Itwasthescaronyourhandthatdidit,"hesaidslowly."Whatdoesitmean?"

CHAPTEREIGHT

THE story of the scar and the queer effect it had produced onMrs. Groatpuzzled Jim almost asmuch as it hadworried the girl.He offered hiswildtheoryagainandshelaughed.

"Of course I shall leave," she said, "but I must stay until all Mrs. Groat'saffairs are clearedup.There areheapsof letters anddocumentsof all kindswhichIhavetoindex,"shesaid,"atleastMr.Groattoldmetherewere.Anditseemssounfairtorunawaywhilstthepooroldladyissoill.Astomybeingthe young lady of fortune, that is absurd.My parentswere SouthAfricans.Jim,youaretooromantictobeagooddetective."

HeindulgedintheluxuryofataxitocarryherbacktoGrosvenorSquare,andthistimewentwithhertothehouse,takinghisleaveatthedoor.

Whilsttheyweretalkingonthestep,thedooropenedandamanwasshownoutbyJackson.Hewasashort,thick-setmanwithanenormousbrownbeard.

ApparentlyJacksondidnotseethetwopeopleonthestep,atanyratehedidnotlooktowardthem,butsaidinaloudvoice:

"Mr.Groatwillnotbehomeuntilseveno'clock,Mr.Villa."

"TellhimIcalled,"saidthebeardedmanwithaboomingvoice,andstepped

pastJim,apparentlyoblivioustohisexistence.

"Whoisthegentlemanwiththewhiskers?"askedJim,butthegirlcouldgivehimnoinformation.

Jimwasnotsatisfiedwiththegirl'sexplanationofherparentage.Therewasanoldschool-friendofhisinbusinessinCapeTown,asanarchitect,andonhisreturntohisoffice,Jimsenthimalongreply-paidcablegram.Hefeltthathewaschasingshadows,butatpresenttherewaslittleelsetochase,andhewenthometohisflatalittleoppressedbythehopelessnessofhistask.

Thenextdayhehadamessagefromthegirlsayingthatshecouldnotcomeoutthatafternoon,andthedaywasablank,themoresobecausethatafternoonhereceivedareplytohiscable.Thereplydestroyedanyromanticdreamshemighthavehadas toEuniceWeldon'sassociationwith theDantonmillions.Themessagewasexplicit.EuniceMayWeldonhadbeenbornatRondebosch;on the l2th June, 1899; her parentswereHenryWilliamWeldon,musician,andMargaretMayWeldon.ShehadbeenchristenedattheWesleyanChapelatRondebosch,andbothherparentsweredead.

Thefinaltwolinesofthecablepuzzledhim:

"Similar inquiriesmade about parentage EuniceWeldon sixmonths ago bySelenger&Co.,BradeStreetBuildings."

"Selenger&Co.,"saidJimthoughtfully.Herewasanewmystery.Whoelsewasmaking inquiries about the girl?He opened a TelephoneDirectory andlookedup thename.TherewereseveralSelengers,butnoneofBradeStreetBuildings.Heputonhishat,andhailingataxi,drovetoBradeStreet,whichwasneartheBank,andwithsomedifficultyfoundBradeStreetBuildings.Itwasamoderately largeblockofoffices, andon the indicator at thedoorhediscoveredSelenger&Co.occupiedNo.6roomonthegroundfloor.

Theofficewaslockedandapparentlyunoccupied.Hesoughtthehall-keeper.

"No,sir,"saidthatman,shakinghishead."Selengers'aren'topen.Asamatteroffact,nobody'severthereexceptatnight."

"Atnight,"saidJim,"that'sanextraordinarytimetodobusiness."

Thehall-keeperlookedathimunfavourably.

"Isupposeitisthewaytheydotheirbusiness,sir,"hesaidpointedly.

ItwassometimebeforeJimcouldappeasetheruffledguardian,andthenhelearnt that Selengers were evidently privileged tenants. A complaint from

Selengershadbroughtthedismissalofhispredecessor,andthecuriosityofahouse-keeperastowhatSelengersdidsolateatnighthadresultedinthatladybeingsummarilydischarged.

"I think theydealwith foreignstock,"said theporter. "A lotofcablescomehere,butI'veneverseenthegentlemanwhorunstheoffice.Hecomesinbythesidedoor."

Apparently there was another entrance to Selengers' office, an entrancereachedbyasmallcourtyardopeningfromasidepassage.Selengersweretheonly tenants who had this double means of egress and exit, and also, itseemed,theyweretheonlytenantsofthebuildingwhowereallowedtoworkallnight.

"Even the stockbrokers on the second floor have to shut down at eighto'clock,"explainedtheporter,"andthat'sprettyhardonthem,becausewhenthemarketisbooming,there'sworkthatwouldkeepthemgoinguntiltwelveo'clock.Butateighto'clock,itis'outyougo'withthecompanythatownsthisbuilding.Therentsaren'thighandthereareveryfewofficestobehadinthecitynowadays.Theyhavealwaysbeenverystrict,eveninMr.Danton'stime."

"Mr. Danton's time," said Jim quickly. "Did he own this building? Do youmeanDantontheshipownermillionaire?"

Themannodded.

"Yes,sir,"hesaid,ratherpleasedwithhimselfthathehadcreatedasensation."Hesoldit,orgotridofitinsomewayyearsago.Ihappentoknow,becauseIusedtobeanoffice-boyintheseverybuildings,andIrememberMr.Danton—hehadanofficeonthefirstfloor,andawonderfulofficeitwas,too."

"Whooccupiesitnow?"

"AforeigngentlemannamedLevenski.He'safellowwho'sneverhere,either."

Jimthought the informationsovaluable thathewent to the lengthofcallingupMr. Salter at his home.ButMr. Salter knewnothingwhatever about theBrade Street Buildings, except that it had been a private speculation ofDanton's. It had come into his hands as the result of the liquidation of theoriginal company, and he had disposed of the propertywithout consultationwithSalter&Salter.

Itwasanotherblankwall.

CHAPTERNINE

"ISHALLnotbeintheofficeto-day,sir.Ihaveseveralappointmentswhichmaykeepmeoccupied,"saidJimSteele,andMr.Saltersniffed.

"Business,Steele?"heaskedpolitely.

"Notallofthem,sir,"saidJim.HehadashrewdideathatMr.Salterguessedwhatthatbusinesswas.

"Verygood,"saidSalter,puttingonhisglassesandaddressinghimselftotheworkonhisdesk.

"ThereisonethingIwantedtoask,andthatispartlywhyIcame,becauseIcouldhaveexplainedmyabsencebytelephone."

Mr.Salterputdownhispenpatiently.

"IcannotunderstandwhythisfellowGroathassomanySpanishfriends,"saidJim."Forexample,thereisagirlheseesagreatdeal,theComtessaManzana;youhaveheardofher,sir?"

"Iseehernameinthepapersoccasionally,"saidMr.Salter.

"And there are several Spaniards he knows. One in particular namedVilla.GroatspeaksSpanishfluently,too."

"That iscurious,"saidMr.Salter, leaningback inhischair."Hisgrandfatherhad a very large number of Spanish friends. I think that somewhere in thebackground theremayhavebeensomeSpanish familyconnection.OldmanDanton, that is, JonathanDanton's father,mademost of hismoney inSpainandinCentralAmerica,andwasalwaysentertainingahousefulofgrandees.They were a strange family, the Dantons. They lived in little water-tightcompartments,and Ibelieveon thedayofhisdeathJonathanDantonhadn'tspokenmorethanadozenwordstohissisterfor twentyyears.Theyweren'tbadfriends, ifyouunderstand.ItwasjustthewayoftheDantons.ThereareotherfamilieswhomIknowwhodoexactlythesamething.Areticentfamily,withakeensenseofhonour."

"Didn'tGrandfatherDantonleaveMrs.Groatanymoney?Shewasoneofhistwochildren,wasn'tshe?"

SeptimusSalternodded.

"Henever leftherapenny,"hesaid."Shepractically livedon thecharityof

herbrother.Ineverunderstoodwhy,buttheoldmantookasuddendisliketoher.JonathanwasasmuchinthedarkasIam.Heusedtodiscussitwithmeand wondered what his sister had done to incur the old man's enmity. Hisfathernever toldhim—wouldneverevendiscuss the sisterwithhim. Itwaspartly due to the oldman's niggardly treatment ofMrs.Groat that JonathanDantonmadehiswillashedid.

"Probably her marriage with Groat was one of the causes of the oldman'sanger. Groat was nothing, a shipping clerk in Danton's Liverpool office. Aman ill at ease in good society,without an 'h' to his name, and desperatelyscaredofhiswife.TheonlypersonwhowasevernicetohimwaspoorLadyMary.Hiswifehatedhimforsomereasonorother.Curiouslyenoughwhenhedied,too,heleftallhismoneytoadistantcousin—andheleftabout£5,000.Wherehegotitfromheavenknows.Andnowbeoff,Steele.Themomentyoucomeintothisoffice,"saidMr.Salterindespair,"youstartmeonastringofreminiscencesthataredeplorablyoutofkeepingwithalawyer'soffice."

Jim'sfirstcallthatmorningwasattheHomeOffice.Hewasanxioustoclearup the mystery of Madge Benson. Neither Scotland Yard nor the PrisonsCommissioners were willing to supply an unofficial investigator with theinformationhehadsought,andindesperationhehadappliedtotheSecretaryofState'sDepartment.Fortunatelyhehada"friendatcourt"inthatbuilding,amiddle-agedbarristerhehadmetinFrance,andhisinquiry,backedbyproofthat hewas notmerely satisfying his personal curiosity, had brought him anoteaskinghimtocall.

Mr.Fenningleighreceivedhiminhisroomwithawarmthwhichshowedthathe had not forgotten the fact that on one occasion Jim had saved him fromwhatmighthavebeenaseriousinjury,ifnotdeath,forJimhaddraggedhimtocoveronenightwhentheBritishheadquarterswerereceivingtheunwelcomeattentionsoftenGermanbombers.

"Sitdown,Steele.Ican'ttellyoumuch,"saidtheofficial,pickingupaslipofpaperfromhisblotting-pad,"andI'mnotsurethatIoughttotellyouanything!Butthisistheinformationwhich'prisons'havesupplied."

Jimtooktheslipfromthebarrister'shandandreadthethreelines.

"'MadgeBenson, age26.DomesticServant.OnemonthwithH.L. for theft.Sentenced at Marylebone Police Court. June 5th, 1898. Committed toHolloway.ReleasedJuly2nd.1898.'"

"Theft?" said Jim thoughtfully. "I suppose there is no way of learning thenatureofthetheft?"

Mr.Fenningleighshookhishead.

"I should advise you to interview the gaoler at Marylebone. These fellowshave extraordinarymemories for faces, and besides, there is certain to be arecordoftheconvictionatthecourt.YouhadbetteraskSaltertoapply;theywillgivepermissiontoalawyer."

ButthiswastheverythingJimdidnotwanttodo.

CHAPTERTEN

EUNICEWELDONwasrapidlysettlingdowninhernewsurroundings.Theillness of her employer, so far from depriving her of occupation, gave hermoreworkthanshehadeverexpected.Itwastrue,asDigbyGroathadsaid,thattherewereplentyofsmalljobstofilluphertime.AthissuggestionshewentoverthelittleaccountbooksinwhichMrs.Groatkepttherecordofherhouseholdexpenses,andwasastoundedtofindhowparsimonioustheoldladyhadbeen.

Oneafternoonwhenshewastidyingtheoldbureau,shestoppedinherworktoadmirethesolidworkmanshipwhichtheoldfurniturebuildersputintotheirhandicraft.

The bureauwas one of those old-fashioned affairs,which are half desk andhalfbookcase,thewriting-casebeingenclosedbyglassdoorscoveredontheinsidewithgreensilkcurtains.

Itwas the thicknessof the twoside-piecesenclosing theactualdesk,which,unlikethewriting-flapoftheordinarysecretaire,wasimmovable,thatarrestedher attention. She was rubbing her hand admiringly along the polishedmahoganysurfacewhenshefeltastripofwoodgivewayunderthepressureofherfinger-tips.Tohersurprisealittleflapaboutaninchwideandaboutsixincheslonghadfallendownandhungonitsinvisiblehinges,leavingablackcavity.A secret drawer in a secretaire is not an extraordinarydiscovery, butshewonderedwhether she ought to explore the recesswhich her accidentaltouchhadrevealed.Sheputinherfingersanddrewoutafoldedpaper.Therewasnothingelseinthedrawer,ifdraweritcouldbecalled.

Oughtshetoreadit,shewondered?Ifithadbeensocarefullyputaway,Mrs.Groatwouldnotwishittobeseenbyathirdperson.Nevertheless,itwasherdutytodiscoverwhatthedocumentwas,andsheopenedit.

TothetopapieceofpaperwasattachedonwhichafewwordswirewritteninMrs.Groat'shand:

"ThisisthewillreferredtointheinstructionscontainedinthesealedenvelopewhichMr.Salterhasinhispossession."

Theword"Salter"hadbeenstruckoutandthenameofthefirmofsolicitors,whichhadsupplantedtheoldmanhadbeensubstituted.

Thewillwasexecutedononeofthoseforms,whichcanbepurchasedatanylawstationer's.Butapartfromthepreambleitwasshort:

"I give tomy son,DigbyFrancisGroat, the sumof 20,000 pounds andmyhouseandfurnitureat409,GrosvenorSquare.The remainderofmyestate IgivetoRamonez—MarquisofEstremeda,ofCalleReceletos,Madrid."

Itwaswitnessedbytwonames,unknowntothegirl,andastheyhaddescribedthemselvesasdomesticservantsitwasprobablethattheyhadlongsinceleftheremployment,forMrs.Groatdidnotkeepaservantverylong.

Whatshouldshedowithit?ShedeterminedtoaskDigby.

Later, when going through the drawers on her desk she discovered a smallminiatureandwasstartledbythedarkbeautyofthesubject.Itwasaheadandshouldersofagirlwearingherhairinaway,whichwasfashionableinthelateseventies.Thefacewasbold,butbeautiful,thedarkeyesseemedtoglowwithlife.Thefaceofagirlwhohadherway,thoughtEunice,asshenotedthefirmroundchin.ShewonderedwhoitwasandshowedittoDigbyGroatatlunch.

"Oh,thatisapictureofmymother,"hesaidcarelessly.

"Yourmother,"saidEuniceinastonishment,andhechuckled.

"You'd never think she was never like that; but she was, I believe, a verybeautiful girl."—his face darkened—"just a little too beautiful," he said,withoutexplainingwhathemeant.

Suddenly,hesnatchedtheminiaturefromandlookedontheback.

"I'msorry,"heapologized,andasuddenpallorhadcometohisface."Mothersometimeswrites thingson thebackofpictures,andIwasrather—"hewasgoingtosay"scared"—"andIwasratherembarrassed."

Hewasalmostincoherent,anunusualcircumstance,forDigbyGroatwasthemostself-possessedofmen.

Hechangedthesubjectbyintroducinganinquirywhichhehadmeanttomake

sometimebefore.

"MissWeldon,canyouexplainthatscaronyourwrist?"heasked.

Sheshookherheadlaughingly.

"I'malmostsorryIshowedittoyou,"shesaid."Itisugly,isn'tit?"

"Doyouknowhowithappened?"

"Idon'tknow,"shesaid,"mothernevertoldme.Itlooksratherlikeaburn."

Heexaminedthelittleredplaceattentively.

"Ofcourse,"shewenton,"itisabsurdtothinkthatthesightofmybirthmarkwasthecauseofyourmother'sstroke."

"Isupposeitis,"henodded,"butitwasaremarkablecoincidence."

He had endeavoured to find from the oldwoman the reason of her suddencollapse,butwithoutsuccess.Forthreedaysshehadlaidinherbedspeechlessandmotionless and apparently hadneither heardnor seenhimwhenhehadmadehisbriefvisitstothesickroom.

Shewas recovering now, however, and he intended, at the first opportunity,demandingafullexplanation.

"Didyoufindanythingelse?"heaskedsuspiciously.Hewasneverquitesurewhat new folly his mother might commit. Her passion for other people'spropertymighthavecometolight.

Shouldshetellhim?Hesawthedoubtandtroubleinherfaceandrepeatedhisquestion.

"Ifoundyourmother'swill,"shesaid.

He had finished his lunch, had pushed back his chair and was smokingpeacefully.Thecigardroppedfromhishandandshesawhisfacegoblack.

"Herwill?"he said. "Areyousure?Herwill isat the lawyer's. Itwasmadetwoyearsago."

"Thiswillwasmadea fewmonthsago,"saidEunice, troubled."IdohopeIhaven'tbetrayedanysecretofhers."

"Letmeseethispreciousdocument,"saidDigby,startingup.

Hisvoicewasbrusque,almost to rudeness.Shewonderedwhathadbrought

aboutthissuddenchange.Theywalkedbacktotheoldwoman'sshabbyroomandthegirlproducedadocumentfromthedrawer.

Hereaditthroughcarefully.

"Theold fool,"hemuttered."Thecusseddrivellingold fool!Haveyoureadthis?"heaskedsharply.

"Ireadalittleofit,"admittedthegirl,shockedbytheman'sbrutalreferencetohismother.

He examined the paper again and all the time he wasmuttering somethingunderhisbreath.

"Wheredidyoufindthis?"heaskedharshly.

"Ifounditbyaccident,"explainedEunice."There isa littledrawerhere"—shepointedtotheseeminglysolidsideofthebureauinwhichgapedanoblongcavity.

"Isee,"saidDigbyGroatslowlyashefoldedthepaper."Now,MissWeldon,perhapsyouwill tellmehowmuchof this documentyouhave read? "—hetappedthewillonhispalm.

Shedidnotknowexactlywhat tosay.ShewasMrs.Groat'sservantandshefeltitwasdisloyaleventodiscussherprivateaffairswithDigby.

"Ireadbeyondyourlegacy,"sheadmitted,"Ididnotreaditcarefully."

"Andyousawthatmymotherhadleftme£20,000?"saidDigbyGroat,"andtheremainderto—somebodyelse."

Shenodded.

"Doyouknowwhothatsomebodyelsewas?"

"Yes,"shesaid."TotheMarquisofEstremeda."

His face had changed from sallow to red, from red to a dirty grey, and hisvoiceashespokeshookwiththeragehecouldnotaltogethersuppress.

"Doyouknowhowmuchmoneymymotherwillbeworth?"heasked.

"No,Mr.Groat,"saidthegirlquietly,"andIdon'tthinkyououghttotellme.Itisnoneofmybusiness."

"Shewillbeworthamillionandaquarter,"he saidbetweenhis teeth, "andshe'sleftme£20,000andthisdamnedhouse!"

Heswungroundandwasmakingforthedoor,andthegirl,whoguessedhisintentions,wentafterhimandcaughthisarm.

"Mr.Groat,"shesaidseriously,"youmustnotgotoyourmother.Youreallymustnot!"

Herinterventionsoberedhimandhewalkedslowlybacktothefireplace,tooka match from his pocket, lit it, and before the astonished eyes of the girlappliedittoonecornerofthedocument.Hewatchedituntilitwasblackashandthenputhisfootuponthedebris.

"Somuchforthat!"hesaid,andturningcaughttheamazedlookinthefaceofEunice."YouthinkI'vebehaveddisgracefully,Isuppose,"hesmiled,hisolddebonair self. "The truth is, I am saving my mother's memory from theimputationofmadness.ThereisnoMarquisofEstremeda,asfarasIknow.Itis one of the illusionswhichmymother has, that a Spanish noblemanoncebefriended her. That is the dark secret of our family, Miss Weldon," helaughed,butsheknewthathewaslying.

CHAPTERELEVEN

ThedoorofDigbyGroat'sstudywasajar,andhecaughtaglimpseofEuniceas she came in and made her way up to her room. She had occupied aconsiderableamountofhisthoughtsthatafternoon,andhehadcursedhimselfthathehadbeenbetrayedintorevealingtheuglysideofhisnaturebeforeonewhomhewished to impress.But therewasanothermatter troublinghim. Inhisfollyhehaddestroyedalegaldocumentinthepresenceofawitnessandhadputhimselfintoherpower.Supposehismotherdied,hethought,andthequestionofawillarose?SupposeEstremedagotholdofher,hertestimonyinthecourtsoflawmightdestroythevalueofhismother'searlierwillandbringhimintothedockattheOldBailey.

Itwasanaxiomofhisthatgreatcriminalsaredestroyedbysmallcauses.Thespendthrift who dissipates hundreds of thousands of pounds, finds himselfmade bankrupt by a paltry hundred pounds, and the clever organizer of theThirteenwhohadcoveredhistracessoperfectlythattheshrewdestpoliceintheworldhadnotbeenable toassociatehimwith theirmanycrimes,mighteasilybebroughttobookthroughapieceofstupiditywhichwasdictatedbyrageandoffendedvanity.HewasnowmorethaneverdeterminedthatEuniceWeldon should come within his influence, so that her power for mischiefshouldbebrokenbeforesheknewhowcrushinglyitmightbeemployed.

Itwasnotanunpleasant taskhesethimself, forEuniceexercisedagrowingfascinationoverhim.Herbeautyandhersingularintelligenceweresufficientlures,buttoamanofhistemperamenttheknowledgethatsheaddedtothesegiftsapurityofmindandsoulgaveheranaddedvalue.Thatshewasinthehabitofmeetingthemanhehated,heknew.HisfaithfulJacksonhadtrailedthegirltwice,andoneachoccasionhadreturnedwiththesamereport.EuniceWeldonwasmeetingSteeleinthepark.AndthepossibilitythatJimlovedherwasthegreatestincentiveofalltohisvileplan.

HecouldstrikeatJimthroughthegirl,couldbefoul thesoul thatJimSteelelovedbestintheworld.Thatwouldbeanoblerevenge,hethought,ashesat,pen inhand,andheardher light footstepspassup thestairs.Buthemustbepatientandthegamemustbeplayedcautiously.Hemustgainherconfidence.That was essential, and the best way of securing this end, was tomake noreferencetothesemeetings,togiveherthefullestopportunityforseeingJimSteeleandtoavoidstudiouslyanysuggestionthathehimselfhadaninterestinher.

Hehadnotsoughtaninterviewwithhismother.Shehadbeensleepingalltheafternoon, the nurse had told him, and he felt that he could be patient herealso.Atnight,whenhesawthegirlatdinner,hemadeareferencetothesceneshehadwitnessedintheoldwoman'ssitting-room.

"You'llthinkI'manawfulcad,MissWeldon,"hesaidfrankly,"butmotherhasatrickofmakingmemoreangrythananyotherpersonIhavemet.Youlookuponmeasaveryunfilialson?"hesmiled.

"Wedothingswe'reashamedofsometimeswhenweareangry,"saidEunice,willingtofindanexcusefortheoutburst.Shewouldhavegladlyavoidedthetopicaltogether,forherconsciencewasprickingherandshefeltguiltywhensherememberedthatshehadspokentoJimonthesubject.DigbyGroatwastomakeheralittlemoreuncomfortablebyhisnextremark.

"It isunnecessary forme to tellyou,MissWeldon,"hesaid,withhissmile,"that all which happens within these four walls is confidential. I need notexpressanyfearthatyouwilleverspeaktoanoutsideraboutouraffairs."

Hehadonly to lookat thecrimson face, at thedowncast eyesand thegirl'sfingers playing nervously with the silver, to realize that she had alreadyspokenofthewill,andagainhecursedhimselfforhisuntimelyexhibitionoftemper.

He passed on, to the girl's great relief, to another subject. He was havingcertain alterationsmade in his laboratory andwas enthusiastic about a newelectricalappliancewhichhehadinstalled.

"Wouldyouliketoseemylittleden,MissWeldon?"heasked.

"Ishouldverymuch,"saidthegirl.

Shewas, she knew, being despicably insincere. She did notwant to see thelaboratory.Toher,sinceJimhaddescribed thepoor littledogwhohadbeenstretcheduponthetable,itwasaplaceofhorror.Butshewaswillingtoagreeto anything thatwould takeDigbyGroat from the topicof thewill, and thethoughtofherownbreachoffaith.

Therewasnothingverydreadful in the laboratory, shediscovered. Itwassowhite and clean and neat that her womanly instinct for orderliness couldadmirethewell-arrangedlittleroom,withitsshelvespackedwithbottles, itsdelicateglassretortsanditsstrangeandmysteriousinstruments.

Hedidnotopen the lockeddoors thathidonecupboardwhich stoodatoneend of the laboratory, so she knew nothing of the grisly relics of hisinvestigations.Shewasnowgladshehadseentheplace,butwasneverthelessaspleasedtoreturntothedrawing-room.

Digbywentout atnineo'clockand shewas left alone to readand toamuseherselfasbestshecould.ShecalledatMrs.Groat'sroomonherwayupandlearntfromthenursethattheoldladywasrapidlyrecovering.

"Shewillbequitenormalto-morroworthenextday,"saidthenurse.

Herewasanotherrelief.Mrs.Groat'sillnesshaddepressedthegirl.Itwassoterrible to seeonewhohadbeenasbeautifulas theminiatureprovedher tohavebeen,struckdownandrenderedahelplessmass,incapableofthoughtormovement.

Herroom,whichhadimpressedherbyitsbeautythedayshehadarrived,hadnow been enhanced by the deft touches which only a woman's fingers cangive.ShehadreadsomeofthebookswhichDigbyGroathadselectedforherentertainment,andsomeshehaddippedintoonlytoreject.

ShespenttheeveningwithTheVirginian,andhereDigbyhadintroducedhertooneofthemostdelightfulcreationsoffiction.TheVirginianwasratherlikeJim,shethought—butthenalltheheroesofallthebooksshereadwereratherlikeJim.

SearchinginherbagforherhandkerchiefherfingersclosedonthelittlecardwhichhadbeenleftonhertablethenightofherintroductiontotheGrosvenorSquarehousehold.Shetookitoutandreaditforthetwentiethtime,puzzlingovertheidentityofthesenderandtheobjecthehadinview.

Whatwas themeaningof that little card, shewondered?Andwhatwas thestorywhichlaybehindit?

She put down her book and, rising, switched on the lamp over herwriting-table, examining the card curiously.Shehadnot alteredher first impressionthatthehandhadbeenmadebyarubberstamp.Itwasreallyabeautifullittlereproduction of an open palm and every line was distinct. Who was hermysterious friend—orwashe a friend?She shookherhead. It couldnot beJim,andyet—itworriedhereventothinkofJiminthisconnection.Whoeveritwas,shethoughtwithalittlesmile,theyhadbeenwrong.Shehadnotleftthehouseandnothinghadhappenedtoher,andshefeltasenseofprideandcomfortinthethoughtthatthemysteriousmessengercouldknownothingofJim,herguardianangel.

She heard a step in the passage and somebody knocked at her door. ItwasDigbyGroat.Hehadevidentlyjustcomein.

"Isawyourlight,"hesaid,"soI thoughtIwouldgiveyousomethingIhavebroughtbackfromtheAmbassadors'Club."

The"something"wasabigsquareboxtiedwithlavenderribbon.

"Forme?"shesaidinsurprise.

"Theyweredistributingthemtotheguests,"hesaid,"andIthoughtyoumighthaveatasteforsweeties.TheyarethebestchocolatesinEngland."

She laughed and thanked nun. Hemade no further attempt to continue theconversation,but,withanod,wenttohisroom.Sheheardthedooropenandclose,andfiveminuteslateritopenedagainandhissoftfootstepsfadedaway.

Hewasgoingtohislaboratory,shethought,andwondered,withashiver,whatwastheexperimenthewasattemptingthatnight.

Shehadplacedtheboxonthetableandhadforgottenabout ituntilshewaspreparing for bed, then she untied the pretty ribbons and displayed thecontents.

"They'redelicious,"shemurmured,andtookoneupinherfingers.

Thump!

Sheturnedquicklyanddroppedthechocolatefromherfingers.

Somethinghadhit againstherwindow, it sounded likea fist.She ran to thesilken curtains which covered the glass doors from view and hesitatednervously for amoment; thenwith a little catch of breath she thought that

possiblysomeboyshadthrownaball.

She pulled back the curtains violently and for a moment saw nothing. Thebalconywas clear and she unfastened the latch and stepped out. Therewasnobodyinsight.Shelookedonthefloorof thebalconyfor theobjectwhichhadbeenthrownbutcouldfindnothing.

Shewentslowlybacktoherroomandwasclosingthedoorwhenshesawandgasped.Forononeofthepaneswasthelife-sizeprintoftheBlueHand!

Againthatmysteriouswarning!

CHAPTERTWELVE

EUNICEgazedat thehandspell-bound,butshewasnowmorecuriousthanalarmed.Openingthewindowagainshefeltgingerlyattheimpression.Itwaswet,andherfinger-tipwasstainedadeepgreasyblue,whichwipedoffreadilyonherhandkerchief.Againshesteppedoutontothebalcony,andfollowingitalong,came to thedoor leading to theheadof thestairs.She tried it. Itwaslocked.Leaningovertheparapetshesurveyedthesquare.Shesawamanandawomanwalkingalongand talking togetherand thesoundof their laughtercameup to her.At the corner of the square she sawpassing under a street-lampahelmetedpolicemanwhomust, she calculated,havebeenactually infrontofthehousewhentheimprintwasmade.

Shewasabouttowithdrawtoherroomwhen,lookingdownovertheportico,shesaw the figureofawomandescending thestepsof thehouse.Whowasshe?Euniceknewalltheservantsbynowandwascertainthiswomanwasastranger.Shemight,ofcourse,beoneofDigbyGroat'sfriendsorafriendofthe nurse, but her subsequent movements were so unusual that Eunice wassure that this was the mysterious stranger who had left her mark on thewindow.So itwasawoman,afterall, thoughtEunice inamazement, as shewatchedhercrossthesquaretowhereabiglimousinewaswaiting.

Withoutgivinganyinstructionstothechauffeurthewomaninblacksteppedintothecar,whichimmediatelymovedoff.

Eunicecamebacktotheroomandsatdowninachairtotrytostraightenhertangledmind.Thathandwasintendedasawarning,shewassureofthat.Andnowitwasclearwhichwaythevisitorhadcome.Shemusthaveenteredthehousebythefrontdoorandhavegotontothebalconythroughthedooronthelanding,lockingitafterherwhenshemadeherescape.

Lookingintheglass,Eunicesawthatherfacewaspale,butinwardlyshefeltmore thrilled than frightened, and she had also a sense of protection, forinstinctively she knew that the woman of the was a friend. Should she godownstairsandtellDigbyGroat?Sheshookherheadatthethought.No,shewouldreservethislittlemysteryforJimtounravel.Withaduster,whichshekeptinoneofthecupboards,shewipedtheblueimpressionfromthewindowand then sat down on the edge of her bed to puzzle out the intricate andbafflingproblem.

Whyhadthewomanchosenthismethodofwarningher?Whynotemploythemundanemethodofsendingheraletter?TwiceshehadtakenarisktoimpressEunice with the sense of danger, when the same warningmight have beenconveyedtoherthroughtheagencyofthepostman.

Eunice frowned at this thought, but then she began to realize that, had ananonymous letter arrived, shewould have torn it up and thrown it into herwaste-paperbasket.Thesemidnightvisitationswereintendedtoimpressuponthegirltheurgencyofthevisitor'sfearforher.

Itwasnotbyanymeanscertain that thewomanwhohadleft thehousewasthemysteriousvisitor.EunicehadnevertroubledtoinquireintoDigbyGroat'scharacter,nordidsheknowanyofhisfriends.Theladyinblackmightwellhavebeenanacquaintanceofhis,andtotellDigbyofthewarningandallthatshe had seen could easily create a very embarrassing situation for allconcerned.

Shewent tobed,but itwasa longtimebeforesleepcametoher.Shedozedandwokeanddozedagainandatlastdecidedtogetup.Shepulledasidethecurtainstoletinthemorninglight.Theearlytrafficwasrumblingthroughthestreet,andtheclearfragranceoftheunsulliedaircamecoldlyasshestoodandshiveredbytheopenwindow.Shewashungry,ashungryasahealthygirlcanbeinthatkeenatmosphere,andshebethoughtherselfoftheboxofchocolateswhichDigbyhadbroughttoher.Shehadtakenonefromitspaperwrappingand it was between her teeth when she remembered with a start that thewarninghadcomeattheverymomentshewasabouttoeatachocolate!Sheput itdownagainthoughtfully,andwentbacktobedtopass the timewhichmustelapsebeforetheservantswereaboutandanykindoffoodprocurable.

Jim Steele was about to leave his little flat in Featherdale Mansions thatmorningwhenhewasmetatthedoorbyadistrictmessengercarryingalargeparcelandabulkyletter.HeatoncerecognizedthehandwritingofEuniceandcarriedtheparcelintohisstudy.Theletterwaswrittenhurriedlyandwasfullofapologies.AsbrieflyaspossibleEunicehadrelatedtheeventsofthenight.

"Icannotimaginethatthechocolateshadanythingtodowithit,butsomehowyouarecommunicatingyourprejudiceagainstDigbyGroattome.Ihavenoreasonwhatevertosuspecthimofanybaddesigntowardme,andinsendingtheseIammerelydoingasyoutoldme,tocommunicateeverythingunusual.Aren'tIanobedientgirl!And,please,Jim,willyoutakemeouttodinnerto-night.Itis 'mynightout,'andI'dlovetohavealeisurelymealwithyou,andI'msimplydyingtotalkabouttheBlueHand!Isn'titgorgeouslymysterious!WhatIshalltrytocatchupsomeofmyarrearsofsleepthisafternoonsothatIshallbefreshandbrilliant."(Shehadwritten"andbeautiful"inmockerybuthadscratcheditout.)

JimSteelewhistled.HithertohehadregardedtheBlueHandasaconvenientandaccidentalmethodwhichtheunknownhadchosenforhisorhersignature.Now, however, it obtained a new significance. The Blue Hand had beenchosendeliberatelyandforsomereasonwhichmustbeknowntooneof theparties concerned.ToDigbyGroat? Jimshookhishead.SomehowheknewforcertainthattheBlueHandwouldbeasmuchofamysterytoDigbyGroatasitwastothegirlandhimself.Hehadnoparticularreasonforthinkingthis.Itwasoneofthoseimmediateinstinctswhichcarrytheirownconviction.Butwhoelsewasconcerned?HedeterminedtoaskhispartnerthatmorningiftheBlueHandsuggestedanythingtohim.

In themeantime therewere the chocolates. He examined the box carefully.The sweetmeats were beautifully arranged and the box bore the label of awell-known West End confectioner. He took out three or four of thechocolates,placedthemcarefullyinanenvelope,andputtheenvelopeinhispocket.Thenhesetforthforthecity.Asheclosedhisowndoorhiseyewenttothedoorontheoppositesideofthelanding,wheredweltMrs.FaneandthemysteriousMadge Benson. The door was ajar and he thought he heard thewoman'svoiceonthegroundfloorbelowtalkingtotheporteroftheflats.

His foot was extended to descend the first of the stairs when from the flatcameasharpscreamandavoice:"Madge,Madge,help!"

Without a second's hesitation he pushed open the door and ran down thepassage.Therewerecloseddoorsoneitherside,butthelastontherightwasopenanda thincloudofsmokewaspouringforth.Herushed in, justas thewoman,whowas lying on the bed,was rising on her elbow as though shewere about to get up, and tearing down the blazing curtains at one of thewindows, stampedout the fire. Itwas all over in a few seconds andhehadextinguished the last sparkof fire from theblackened lacebeforehe lookedroundattheoccupantofthebed,whowasstaringathimwide-eyed.

She was a woman of between forty and forty-five, he judged, with a face

whosedelicatemouldinginstantlyimpressedhim.Hethoughthehadseenherbefore, but knew that hemust have beenmistaken. The big eyes, grey andluminous, the dark brown hair in which a streak of grey had appeared, thebeautifulhandsthatlayonthecoverlet,allofthesehetookinatoneglance.

"I'mverygreatlyobligedtoyou,Mr.Steele,"saidtheladyinavoicethatwaslittleaboveawhisper."Thatisthesecondaccidentwehavehad.Asparkfromoneoftheenginesmusthaveblowninthroughtheopenwindow."

JustbeneathherwasthecuttingoftheLondon,MidlandandScottishRailway,andJim,whohadwatchedtheheavilyladentrainstoilingslowlyandpainfullyup the steep incline, had often wondered if there was any danger from theshowersofsparkswhichtheenginessofrequentlythrewup.

"Imustapologizeformyratherroughintrusion,"hesaidwithhissweetsmile."Iheardyourscreams.YouareMrs.Fane,aren'tyou?"

Shenodded,andtherewasadmirationintheeyesthatsurveyedhiswell-knitfigure.

"I won't start a conversation with you under these embarrassingcircumstances,"saidJimwithalaugh,"butI'dliketosayhowsorryIamthatyouaresoill,Mrs.Fane.CouldIsendyousomemorebooks?"

"Thankyou,"shewhispered."Youhavedonealmostenough."

Heheardthedoorcloseastheservant,unconsciousthatanythingwaswrong,camein,andheardherstartledexclamationasshesmelt thesmoke.ComingoutintothepassagehemetMadgeBenson'sastonishedface.

Afewwordsexplainedhispresenceandthewomanhustledhimtothedooralittleunceremoniously.

"Mrs.Faneisnotallowedtoseevisitors,sir,"shesaid."Shegetssoexcited."

"Whatis thematterwithher?"askedJim,ratheramusedat theunmistakableejection.

"Paralysisinbothlegs,"saidMadgeBenson,andJimutteredanexclamationofpity.

"Don't think I'mnot grateful to you,Mr.Steele," said thewoman earnestly;"whenIsawthatsmokecomingoutintothepassagemyheartnearlystoppedbeating.Thatisthesecondaccidentwehavehad."

Shewas so anxious for him to be off that hemade no attempt to continuetalking.

So that was Mrs. Fane, thought Jim, as he strode along to his office. Asingularly beautiful woman. The pity of it! She was still young and in thebloomofhealthsaveforthisterribleaffliction.

Jim had a big heart for suffering humanity, and especially for women andchildrenonwhomtheburdenofsicknessfell.Hewashalf-wayto theofficewhenhe remembered thatMrs.Fanehad recognizedhimandcalledhimbyname! How could she have known him—she who had never left her sick-room?

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

"MrGroatwillnotbedowntobreakfast.Hewasworkingverylate,miss."

Eunicenodded.Shepreferred the conversationofDigbyGroat to theveiledfamiliarityofhisshrewd-facedservant.Itwouldbedifficultforhertodefineinwhatway Jacksonoffendedher.Outwardlyhewas respect itself, and shecould not recall any term or word he had employed to which she couldreasonably take offence. It was the assurance of the man, his proprietorialattitude,which irritatedher.He remindedherofaboarding-houseatwhichshe had once stayed,where the proprietor acted as butler and endeavoured,withoutsuccess,tocombinethedeferenceoftheservantwiththeauthorityofthemaster.

"Youwereoutveryearlythismorning,miss,"saidJacksonwithhisslysmileashechangedherplates.

"Isthereanyobjectiontomygoingoutbeforebreakfast?"askedEunice,herangerrising.

"Noneatall,miss,"saidthemanblandly."IhopeIhaven'toffendedyou,onlyIhappenedtoseeyoucomingback."

Shehadbeenout tosend theparceland the letter toJim, thenearestdistrictmessengerofficebeingless thanaquarterofamilefromGrosvenorSquare.She opened her lips to speak and closed them again tightly. There was noreasonintheworldwhysheshouldexcuseherselftotheservant.

Jackson was not ready to take a rebuff, and besides, he had somethingimportanttocommunicate.

"Youweren'tdisturbedlastnight,wereyou,miss?"heasked.

"Whatdoyoumean?"demandedEunice,lookingwithastart.

Hiskeeneyewasonherandwithoutanyreasonshefeltguilty.

"Somebody was having a joke here last night, miss," he said, "and thegovernorisaswildas...well,he'smad!"

Sheputdownherknifeandforkandsatbackinherchair.

"Idon'tquiteunderstandyou,Jackson,"shesaidcoldly."Whatisthejokethatsomebody was having, and why do you ask me if I was disturbed? Didanythinghappeninthenight?"

Themannodded.

"Somebody was in the house," he said, "and it is a wonder thatMr. Groatdidn'thearit,becausehewasworkinginhislaboratory.Ithoughtperhapsyoumighthaveheardhimsearchingthehouseafterwards."

Sheshookherhead.HadtheBlueHandbeendetected,shewondered?

"Howdoyouknowthatastrangerwasinthehouse?"sheasked.

"Becausehe lefthismark,"said themangrimly."Youknowthatwhitedoorleadingtothelaboratory,miss?"

Shenodded.

"Well, whenMr. Groat came out about half-past two this morning he wasgoingtoturnoutthehalllightswhenhesawasmudgeofpaintonthedoor.HewentbackandfoundthatitwasthemarkofaBlueHand.I'vebeentryingtogetitoffallthemorning,butitisgreasyandcan'tbecleaned."

"The mark of a Blue Hand?" she repeated slowly and felt herself changecolour."Whatdoesthatmean?"

"I'mblessedifIknow,"saidJackson,shakinghishead."Thegovernordoesn'tknoweitherButthereitwasasplainasapike-staff.Ithoughtitwasaservantwhodidit.Thereisoneundernoticeandshemighthavebeenuptohertricks,butitcouldn'thavebeenher.Besides,theservants'sleeping-roomsareatthebackofthehouse,andthedoorbetweenthefrontandthebackiskeptlocked."

So themysterious visitor had not been satisfied with warning her. She hadwarnedDigbyGroataswell!

Eunice had nearly finished breakfast whenDigbymade his appearance. Hewas looking tiredandhaggard, she thought.Henever lookedhisbest in the

earlyhours,butthismorninghewasmoreunprepossessingthanusual.Heshotaswiftsuspiciousglanceatthegirlashetookhisplaceatthetable.

"Youhave finished, I'm afraid,missWeldon," he said briefly. "Has Jacksontoldyouwhathappenedinthenight?"

"Yes,"saidEunicequietly."Haveyouanyideawhatitmeans?"

Heshookhishead.

"It means trouble to the person who did it, if I catch him." he said; then,changingtheconversation,heaskedhowhismotherwasthatmorning.

EuniceinvariablycalledatMrs.Groat'sroomonherwaydown,andshewasable to tell him thathismotherwasmending rapidly andhadpassedaverygoodnight.

"Shecan'tgetwelltoosoon,"hesaid."Howdidyousleep,MissWeldon?"

"Verywell,"sheprevaricated.

"Haveyoutriedmychocolates?"hesmiled.

Shenodded.

"Theyarebeautiful."

"Don'teattoomanyatonce,theyareratherrich,"hesaid,andmadenofurtherreferenceeithertothatmatterortothemidnightvisitor.

Later in the morning, when she was going about her work, Eunice sawworkmen engaged on cleaning the canvas door. Apparently the blue staincouldnotbeeradicated, andafter a consultationwithDigby thecanvaswasbeingpaintedadullbluecolour.

SheknewthatDigbywasperturbedmorethanordinarily.Whenshehadmethim,asshehadoccasionallythatmorning,hehadwornafurtive,huntedlook,andonce,whenshehadgoneintohisstudytobringtohisnoticeanaccountwhichshehadunearthed,hewasmutteringtohimself.

ThatafternoontherewasareceptionatLordWaltham'shouseinParkLane,inhonourofacolonialpremierwhowasvisitingEngland.DigbyGroatfounditconvenient tocultivate theacquaintanceof theaestheticLordWaltham,whowas one of the great financial five of theCity of London.Digby had gonecleverlytoworktoformasmallsyndicatefortheimmediatepurchaseoftheDanton estate. The time had not yet come when he could dispose of thisproperty,butitwasfastapproaching.

Thereweremanywomeninthatbrilliantassemblywhowouldhavebeengladtoknowamanreputedlyclever,andcertainlytheheirtogreatwealth;butinan inverted senseDigbywas a fastidiousman. Societywhichmet him anddiscussed him over their dinner-tables were puzzled by his avoidance ofwoman'ssociety.Hecouldhavemadeabrilliantmarriage,hadhesodesired,butapparently thegirlsofhisownsethadnoattractionforhim.Therewereintimates,menabouttown,whowerelessguardedintheirlanguagewhentheyspokeacrossthetableafterthewomenhadgone,andthesetoldstoriesofhimwhichdidnotredoundtohiscredit.Digbyinhisyouthhadhadmanyaffairs—vulgar,sordidaffairswhichhadlefteachvictimwithanachingheartandnoredress.

Hehadonlycometo"lookin,"heexplained.Therewasheavyworkawaitinghim at home, and he hinted at the new experiment he was making whichwouldtakeupthegreaterpartoftheevening.

"Howisyourmother,Groat?"askedLordWaltham.

"Thankyou,sir,Ithinksheisbetter,"repliedDigby.Hewantedtokeepoffthesubjectofhismother.

"I can't understand the extraordinary change that has come over her in lateyears,"saidLordWalthamwitha littlefrown."Sheusedtobesobrightandcheerful,oneofthewittiestwomenIhaveevermet.Andthen,ofasudden,allherspiritsseemedtogoandifyoudon'tmindmysayingso,sheseemedtogetold."

"Inoticed that,"saidDigbywithanairofprofoundconcern,"butwomenofheragefrequentlygoalltopiecesinaweek."

"Isuppose there'ssomething in that. Ialwaysforgetyou'readoctor,"smiledLordWaltham.

Digbytookhisleaveandhe,too,waschucklingsoftlytohimselfashewentdownthestepstohiswaitingcar.HewonderedwhatLordWalthamwouldsayifhehadexplainedthesecretofhismother'sbanishedbrightness.Itwasonlybyaccidentthathehimselfhadmadethediscovery.Shewasadrug-taker,asassiduousa"dope"ashehadevermetinhisprofessionalcareer.

When he discovered this he had set himself to break down the habit. Notbecausehelovedher,butbecausehewasascientistaddictedtoexperiments.Hehadfoundthesourceofhersupplyandgraduallyhadextractedaportionofthenarcoticfromeverypelletuntilthedrughadceasedtohaveitseffect.

Theresultfromtheoldwoman'spointofviewwasdeplorable.Shesuddenly

seemedtowither,andDigby,whomshehadruleduntilthenwitharodofiron,hadtohissurprisefoundhimselfthemaster.Itwasalessonofwhichhewasnotslowtotakeadvantage,everydayandnightshewaswatchedandthedrugwaskeptfromher.Withitshewasaslavetoherhabit;withoutitshewasaslavetoDigby.Hepreferredthelatterformofbondage.

Mr. Septimus Salter had not arrived when Jim had reached the office thatmorning,andhewaited,forhehadagreatdealtosaytotheoldman,whomhehadnotseenforthebetterpartoftheweek.

Whenhedidcome,alittlegoutyandthereforemorethanalittlepetulant,hewasinclinedtopooh-poohthesuggestionthattherewasanythinginthesignoftheBlueHand.

"Whoeverthepoisonis,heorshemusthavehadthestampbythem—yousayit looks like a rubber stamp—andused it fortuitously.No, I can't rememberanyBlueHand in the business. If Iwere you I should not attach toomuchimportancetothis."

Although Jim did not share his employer's opinion he very wisely did notdisagree.

"Now,whatisthisyouworetellingmeaboutawill?YousayMrs.Groathasmadeanewwill,subsequenttotheonesheexecutedinthisoffice?"

Jimassented.

"And left all her money away from the boy, eh?" said old Mr. Salterthoughtfully."Curiouslyenough,Ialwayshadanideathattherewasnolovelostbetweenthatpair.Towhomdoyousaythemoneywasleft?"

"TotheMarquisofEstremeda."

"Iknowthename,"noddedMr.Salter."HeisaveryrichgrandeeofSpainandwas for some time an attache at the Spanish Embassy.Hemay ormay nothavebeenafriendoftheDantons,Icannotrecall.Thereiscertainlynoreasonwhysheshould leavehermoney toonewho,unlessmymemory isat fault,ownshalfaprovinceandhas threeorfourgreathouses inSpain.Now,hereyouareupagainstarealmystery.Now,whatisyournews?"heasked.

Jimhadalittlemoretotellhim.

"Iamtakingthechocolatestoananalyst—afriendofmine,"hesaid,andMr.Saltersmiled.

"Youdon'texpecttodiscoverthattheyarepoisoned,doyou?"heaskeddryly.

"Youarenot living in thedaysofCaesarBorgia,andwithallhispoisonousqualitiesIhaveneversuspectedDigbyGroatofbeingamurderer."

"Nevertheless,"saidJim,"Iamleavingnothingtochance.Myowntheoryisthat there is somethingwrongwith those innocent-looking sweetmeats, andthemysteriousBlueHandknewwhatitwasandcametowarnthegirl."

"Rubbish," growled the old lawyer. "Get alongwith you. I havewasted toomuchtimeonthisinfernalcase."

Jim'sfirstcallwasatalaboratoryinWigmoreStreet,andheexplainedtohisfriend justenough toexcitehiscuriosity for furtherdetails,which,however,Jimwasnotpreparedtogive.

"Whatdoyouexpect to find?"said thechemist,weighing twochocolates inhispalm.

"I don't know exactly what I expect," said Jim. "But I shall be very muchsurprisedifyoudonotdiscoversomethingthatshouldnotbethere."

Thescientistdroppedthechocolatesinabigtest-tube,pouredinaliquidfromtwobottlesandbeganheatingthetubeoveraBunsenburner.

"Callthisafternoonatthreeo'clockandIwillgiveyouallthegrislydetails,"hesaid.

Itwas threeo'clockwhenJim returned,notexpecting, itmustbeconfessed,anystartlingresultsfromtheanalysis.Hewasshownintothechemist'soffice,andthereonthedeskwerethreetest-tubes,standinginalittlewoodenholder.

"Sitdown,Steele,"saidMendhlesohn.Hewas,ashisnameimplied,amemberofagreatJewishfraternitywhichhasfurnishedsomanybrilliantgeniusestotheworld."Ican'tquitemakeoutthisanalysis,"hesaid."But,asyouthought,therearecertainlythingsinthechocolateswhichshouldnotbethere."

"Poison?"saidJim,aghast.

Mendhlesohnshookhishead.

"Technically,yes,"headmitted. "There ispoison inalmost everything,but Idoubtwhethertheeatingofathousandofthesewouldproducedeath.Ifoundtracesofbromideofpotassiumandtracesofhyacin,andanotherdrugwhichisdistilledfromcannabisindica."

"Thatishashish,isn'tit?"

Mendhlesohnnodded.

"When it issmoked it iscalledhashish;when it isdistilledwehaveanothernameforit.Thesethreedrugscome,ofcourse,intothecategoryofpoisons,andincombination,takeninlargedoses,theywouldproduceunconsciousnessand ultimately death, but there is not enough of the drug present in thesesweetstobringaboutthatalarmingresult."

"Whatresultwoulditproduce?"askedJim.

"That is just what is puzzling me and my friend, Dr. Jakes," saidMendhlesohn, rubbinghisunshavenchin."Jakes thinks that,administered insmall continuousdoses, theeffectof thisdrugwouldbe todestroy thewill-power,and,whatforabettertermIwoulddescribeintheGermanfashion,astheresistance-to-evil-powerofthehumanmind.InEngland,asyouprobablyknow,whenanervousandhighlyexcitablemanissentencedtodeath,itisthepracticetoplaceminutedosesofbromideineverythingheeatsanddrinks,inordertoreducehimtosuchalowconditionofmentalresistancethateventhethoughtofanimpendingdoomhasnoeffectuponhim."

Jim'sfacehadgonesuddenlypale,asthehorrorofthevillainousplotdawneduponhim.

"What effectwould thishaveuponahigh-spiritedgirl,whowas, let us say,beingmadelovetobyamanshedisliked?"

Thechemistshruggedhisshoulders.

"I suppose that eventually her dislike would develop into apathy andindifference.Shewouldnotcompletelyforgoherresistancetohisattentions,butat the same time that resistancewouldbemore readilyovercome.Thereareonly two typesofmind,"hewenton,"the 'dominant'and the 'recessive.'Wecallthe'dominant'thatwhichisthemorepowerful,andthe'recessive'thatwhichisthelesspowerful.Inthisworlditispossibleforalittleweakmantodominateabigandvigorousman,bywhatyouwouldcallthesheerforceofhispersonality.Theeffectofthisdrugwouldultimatelybetoturnapowerfulmindintoaweakmind.IhopeIamnotbeingtooscientific,"hesmiled.

"I can follow you very well." said Jim quietly. "Now tell me this,Mendhlesohn,woulditbepossibletogetaconvictionagainstthepersonwhosuppliedthesesweets?"

Mendhlesohnshookhishead.

"AsItoldyou,thedosesareinsuchminutequantitiesthatitisquitepossiblethey may have got in by accident. I have only been able to find what wechemistscalla 'trace'sofar,butprobablythedoseswouldbeincreasedfrom

weektoweek.Ifinthreeweeks'timeyoubringmechocolatesorotherfoodthathasbeentamperedwith,Ishallbeabletogiveyouaveryexactanalysis."

"WereallthechocolatesIbroughtsimilarlytreated?"

Mendhlesohnnodded.

"If they have been doped," hewent on, "the doping has been very cleverlydone.There isnodiscolorationof the interior, and thedrugmusthavebeenintroducedbywhatwecallsaturation,whichonlyaveryskilfulchemistoradoctortrainedinchemistrywouldattempt."

Jimsaidnothing.DigbyGroatwasbothaskilledchemistandadoctortrainedinchemistry.

On leaving the laboratory hewent for his favouritewalk inHyde Park.Hewanted to be alone and think thismatter out.Hemust actwith the greatestcaution, he thought. To warn the girl on such slender foundation was notexpedient.Hemustwaituntil,thedosehadbeenincreased,thoughthatmeantthatshewastoactasabaitforDigbyGroat'sdestruction,andhewrithedatthethought.Butshemustnotknow;hewasdeterminedastothis.

Thatnighthehadarrangedapleasantlittledinner,andhewaslookingforwardeagerlytoameetingwithonewhosefutureabsorbedhiswholeattentionandthoughts. Even the search for Lady Mary Danton had receded into thebackground,andmighthavevanishedaltogetherasamatterofinterestwereitnotforthefactthatDigbyGroatandhisaffairsweresoinextricablymixedupwiththemystery.WhilstEuniceWeldonwasaninmateoftheGroats'house,theDantonmysterywouldneverbecompletelyoutofhisthoughts.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

JIMhadneverseenthegirl ineveningclothes,andhewassmittendumbbyheretherealbeauty.Sheworeasimpledressofcreamcharmeuse,innocentofcolour, except for the touch of gold at herwaist. She looked taller to Jim'seyes, and the sweet dignity of her face was a benison which warmed andcomfortedhisheart.

"Well," she asked as the cab was proceeding towards Piccadilly. "Am Ipresentable?"

"You'rewonderful!"breathedJim.

He sat stiffly in the cab, scarcely daring tomove lest the substance of thisbeautiful dream be touched by his irreverent hands. Her loveliness wasunearthly and he, too, could adore, though from a different standpoint, thegloriouspromiseofherwomanhood,thedeliciouscontoursofherMadonna-like face.Shewas tohim the spirit andembodimentof all thatwomanhoodmeans.Shewasthetruthofthedreamsthatmendream,thedivinesubstanceofshadowyfiguresthathaunttheirthoughtsanddreams.

"Phew!"hesaid,"youalmostfrightenme,Eunice."

Heheardhersilverylaughinthedarkness.

"You'reverysilly,Jim,"shesaid,slippingherarmintohis.

Nevertheless, sheexperienceda thrillof triumphandhappiness that shehadimpressedhimso.

"Ihavemillionsofquestionstoaskyou,"shesaidaftertheyhadbeenusheredtoacornerofthebigdining-roomoftheRitz-Carlton."Didyougetmyletter?AnddidyouthinkIwasmadtosendyouthosechocolates?Ofcourse,itwasterriblyunfairtoMr.Groat,butreally,Jim,you'returningmeintoasuspiciousoldlady!"

Helaughedgently.

"I loved your letter," he said simply. "And as for the chocolates—" hehesitated.

"Well?"

"Ishouldtellhimthatyouenjoyedthemthoroughly,"hesmiled.

"Ihave,"saidthegirlruefully."Ihatetellinglies,eventhatkindoflie."

"Andthenextboxyoureceive,"Jimwenton,"youmustsendmethreeorfourofitscontents."

She was alarmed now, looking at him, her red lips parted, her eyebrowscrescentsofinquiry.

"Wasthereanythingwrongwiththem?"sheasked.

Hewasinadilemma.Hecouldnottellhertheresultoftheanalysis,andatthesametimehecouldnotallowhertorunanyfartherintoneedlessdanger.Hehadtoinventsomethingonthespurofthemomentandhisexcusewaslameandunconvincing.

Listening,sherecognizedtheirhaltingnature,butwassensibleenoughnottoinsistuponrigidexplanations,and,moreover,shewantedtodiscussthehandanditsstartlingappearanceinthemiddleofthenight.

"Itsoundsalmostmelodramatic,"saidJim,buthisvoicewasgrave,"andIfindagreatdifficulty in reconciling thehappening to the realitiesof life.OfonethingI'msure,"hewenton,"anditisthatthisstrangewoman,ifwomanitbe,hasareasonforheracts.Themarkofthehandisdeliberatelydesigned.Thatitisbluehasameaning,too,ameaningwhichapparentlyisnotcleartoDigbyGroat.Andnowletustalkaboutourselves,"hesmiled,andhishandrestedforamomentoverhers.

Shedidnotattempt towithdrawherownuntil thewaitercame insight,andthenshedrewitawaysogentlyastosuggestreluctance.

"I'm going to stay anothermonthwith theGroats," she informed him, "andthenifMrs.Groatdoesn'tfindsomerealworkformetodoI'mgoingbacktothephotographers'—ifthey'llhaveme."

"I know somebody who wants you more than the photographer," he saidquietly, "somebody whose heart just aches whenever you pass out of hissight."

Shefeltherownheartbeatingthunderously,andthehandthatheheldunderthecoverofthetabletrembled.

"Whoisthat—somebody?"sheaskedfaintly.

"Somebody who will not ask you to marry him until he can offer you anassuredposition,"saidJim."Somebodywholovestheverygroundyouwalkuponsomuchthathemusthavecarpetsforyourdearfeetandamansiontohouse you more comfortably than the tiny attic overlooking the London,MidlandandScottishRailway."

Shedidnot speak fora long time, andhe thoughthehadoffendedher.Thecolourcameandwentinherface,thesoftroundedbosomroseandfellmorequickly thanwasusual,and thehand thatheheldclosedso tightlyuponhisfingersthattheywerealmostnumbwhenshesuddenlyreleasedherhold.

"Jim,"shesaid,stillavertinghereyes,"Icouldworkverywellonbareboards,andIshouldlovetowatchtheLondon,MidlandandScottishtrains—gopastyourattic."

Sheturnedherheadtohisandhesawthathereyeswerebrightwithtears.

"Ifyou'renotverycareful,JimSteele,"shesaid,withanattemptatraillery,"I

shallproposetoyou!"

"MayIsmoke?"saidJimhuskily,andwhenshenodded,andhelithismatch,shesawtheflamewasquiveringinhisshakinghand.

Shewonderedwhatmadehimsoquietfortherestoftheevening.Shecouldnotknowthathewasstunnedandshakenbythegreatfortunethathadcometohim,thathisheartwasasnumbwithhappinessashisfingershadbeeninthepressureofherhand.

Whentheydrovebacktothehousethatnightshewantedhimtotakeherinhisarmsinthedarknessofthecabandcrushheragainsthisbreast:shewantedtofeelhiskissesonherlips,hereyes.Ifhehadaskedheratthatmomenttorunaway with him, to commit the maddest folly, she would have consentedjoyously, forher love for themanwas surgingup like abubbling streamofsubterranean fire that had found its vent, overwhelming and burning allreason,alltradition.

Instead,hesatbyherside,holdingherhandanddreamingofthegoldenfuturewhichawaitedhim.

"Goodnight,Jim."Hervoicesoundedcoldandalittledispiritedassheputherglovedhandinhisatthedoorof409.

"Goodnight,"hesaidinalowvoice,andkissedherhand.Shewasnearlyintearswhenshewentintoherroomandshutthedoorbehindher.Shewalkedtoherdressing-tableandlookedintheglass,longandinquiringly,andthensheshookherhead."Iwishhewasn'tsogood,"shesaid,"orelsemoreofahero!"

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

JIMcontinuedhis journeyto theflat,soenvelopedin therosycloudswhichhad descended upon him that he was unconscious of time or space, and itseemedthathehadonlysteppedintothecabwhenitjerkedtoahaltbeforetheportals of Featherdale Mansions. He might have continued in his dreamwithoutinterruptionhadnotthecabman,withsomeasperity,calledhimbacktoremindhimthathehadnotpaidhisfare.

Thatbroughthimbacktotheearth.

Ashewasabout toopen theouterdoorof the flats (itwasclosedat eleveneverynight)thedooropenedofitsownaccordandhesteppedbacktoallowa

ladytopass.Shewasdressedfromheadtofootinblackandshepassedhimwithoutaword,hestaringafterherasshewalkedwithquickstepstoamotor-carthathehadnoticeddrawnupafewyardsfromwherehiscabhadstopped.Whowasshe?hewonderedasthecarpassedoutofsight.

Hedismissedher fromhis thoughts, for theglamourof theeveningwasnotyet passed, and for anhourhe sat in his big chair, staring intovacancy andrecallingeveryincidentofthatpreviousevening.Hecouldnotbelieveitwastrue that thishalf-divinebeingwas tobehis;and then,withadeepsigh,hearousedhimselftoasenseofreality.

Therewasworktobedone,hethought,asherosetohisfeet,anditwasworkfor her. His incomewas a small one, andmust be considerably augmentedbeforehedareaskthisbeautifulladytosharehislot.

Heglancedidlyatthetable.Thatafternoonhehadbeenwritinguphisnotesofthecaseandthebookwasstillwherehehadleftit,only—

He could have sworn he had left it open.He had a remarkablememory forlittlethings,tinydetailsofplacementsandposition,andhewassurethebookhadnotonlybeenclosed,butthatitspositionhadbeenchanged.

A woman came in the mornings to clean the flat and make his bed andinvariablyheletherinhimself.Sheusuallyarrivedwhenhewasmakinghisown breakfast—another fad of his. She had no key, and under anycircumstancesnevercameatnight.

Heopenedthebookandalmostjumped.

Betweenthepages,markingtheplacewherehehadbeenwriting,wasakeyofa peculiar design. Attached to the handle was a tiny label on which waswritten:"D.G.'smasterkey."

ThistimetherewasnosignoftheBlueHand,butherecognizedthewriting.Itwas the same which had appeared on the warning card which the girl hadreceived.

Thewomaninblackhadbeentohisflat—andhadlefthimthemeanstoenterDigbyGroat'spremises!

"Phew!"whistledJiminamazement.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

EUNICEwokeinthemorningwithaqueerlittlesenseofdisappointment.Itwas not until she was thoroughly awake, sitting up in bed and sipping thefragrantteawhichthemaidhadbroughther,thatsheanalysedthecause.Thenshelaughedatherself.

"EuniceWeldon," she said, shaking her head sadly, "you're a bold woman!Becausethebestmanintheworldwastoogood,toosilly,ortoofrightened,tokissyou,youareworkingupagrievance. In thefirstplace,EuniceWeldon,youshouldn'thaveproposedtoaman.Itwasunladylikeandcertaintoleadtoyour feeling cheap. You should have been content to wait for the beautifulcarpet under your feet and the mansion over your head, and should havedespised thebareboardsofanatticoverlooking the railway. Idon't supposetheyarebareboards,Eunice,"shemused."TheyarecertaintobeverynicelycoveredandtherewillbeallsortsofmementosofJim'scampaignshangingonthewallsortuckedawayinoddlittlecupboards.AndI'msure,whenthetrainsarenotrattlingpast,thattheviewfromthewindowisbeautiful,and,anyway,Ishouldn'thavetimetolookoutofthewindow.TherewouldbeJim'sshirtstomend,Jim'ssockstodam,and—EuniceWeldon,getup!"shesaidhurriedlyassheslippedoutofbed.

Going along the corridor Digby Groat heard the sound of her fresh youngvoicesinginginthebathroom,andhesmiled.

Theripebeautyofthegirlhadcomeonhimwitharush.Shewasnolongerdesirable, shewasnecessary.Hehad intended tomakeherhisplaything,hewasasdeterminednowthatsheshouldbehisdecoration.Helaughedaloudatthelittleconceit!Adecoration!Somethingthatwouldenhancehimintheeyesofhisfellows.Evenmarriagewouldbeasmallpricetopayforthepossessionofthatjewel.

Jacksonsawhimsmilingashecamedownthestairs.

"Anotherboxofchocolateshasarrived,sir,"hesaidinalowvoice,asthoughhewereimpartingashamefulsecret.

"Throwthemintheashpit,orgivethemtomymother,"saidDigbycarelessly,andJacksonstaredathim.

"Aren'tyou—"hebegan.

"Don'tasksomanyquestions,Jackson."Digbyturnedhisglitteringeyesuponhisservantandtherewasanuglylookinhisface."Youaregettingjustalittletoo interested in things,my friend.Andwhilstweareon thismatter, letmesay, Jackson, that when you speak toMissWeldon I want you to take thatdamnedgrinoffyourfaceandtalkasaservanttoalady;doyouunderstand

that?"

"I'mnoservant,"saidthemansullenly.

"Thatisthepartyouareplayingnow,soplayit,"saidDigby,"anddon'tsulkwithme,or—"

Hishandwentuptoarackhangingonthewall,wherereposedacollectionofhunting-crops,andhisfingersclosedoverthenearest.

Themanstartedback.

"Ididn'tmeananything,"hewhined,hisfacelivid."I'vetriedtoberespectful—"

"Getmyletters,"saidDigbycurtly,"andbringthemintothedining-room."

Eunicecameintotheroomatthatmoment.

"Good morning. MissWeldon," said Digby, pulling out her chair from thetable."Didyouhaveanicedinner?"

"Oh,splendid,"shesaid,andthenchangedtheconversation.

Shewasdreadingthepossibilityofhisturningtheconversationtothepreviousnight,andwasgladwhenthemealwasfinished.

Digby'sattitude,however,wasmostcorrect.Hespokeofgeneral topics,anddidnottouchuponherouting,andwhenshewenttoMrs.Groat'sroomtoplayatwork,foritwasonlyplaying,therealworkhadbeendone,hedidnot,asshefearedhemight,followher.

Digbywaiteduntilthedoctorcalled,andwaylayinghiminthepassagelearntthat his mother had completely recovered, and though a recurrence of thestrokewaspossible,itwasnotimmediatelylikely.Hehadafewwordstosaytoherthatmorning.

OldMrs.Groat sat by thewindow in awheeled chair, a huddled, unlovelyfigure,herdarkgloomyeyessurveyedwithoutinterestthestatelysquarewithits green leafy centrepiece. The change of seasons had for her no othersignificancethanachangeofclothing.Thewildheartwhichonceleapttothecallofspring,beatfeeblyinabodyinwhichpassionhadburntitselftobitterashes.Andyet thegnarledhands,crossingandre-crossingeachotheronherlap,hadoncetouchedandblessedastheyhadtouchedandblasted.

Onceortwicehermindwenttothisnewgirl,EuniceWeldon.Therewasnorayofpityinherthought.IfDigbywantedthegirl,hewouldtakeher,andher

fateinterestedoldJaneGroatnomorethanthefateoftheflythatbuzzeduponthe window, and whom a flick of her handkerchief presently swept fromexistence.Therewasmorereasonwhythegirlshouldgoif...shefrowned.Thescar on the wrist was much bigger than a sixpence. It was probably acoincidence.

ShehopedthatDigbywouldconcentrateonhisnewquestandleaveheralone.Shewasmortallyafraidofhim,fearinginherownheartthelengthtowhichhewouldgotohavehiswill.Sheknewthatherlifewouldbesnuffedout,liketheflameofacandle,ifitwereexpedientforDigbytoremoveher.Whenshehadrecoveredconsciousnessandfoundherself inchargeofanurse,herfirstthoughthadbeenofwonder thatDigbyhadallowedher to revive.Heknewnothingofthewill,shethought,andatwistedsmilebrokeuponthelinedface.Therewasasurpriseinstoreforhim.Shewouldnotbetheretoseeit,thatwasthepity.Butshecouldgloatinanticipationoverhischagrinandhisimpotentrage.

Thehandleof thedoor turnedand there followedawhisperedconversation.Presentlythedoorclosedagain.

"Howare you thismorning,mother?" said thepleasant voiceofDigby, andsheblinkedroundathiminaflutterofagitation.

"Verywell,myboy,verywell,"shesaidtremulously."Won'tyousitdown?"Sheglancednervouslyaboutforthenurse,butthewomanhadgone."WillyoutellthenurseIwanther,myboy?"shebegan.

"Thenursecanwait,"saidherdutifulsoncoolly."ThereareoneortwothingsIwanttotalktoyouaboutbeforeshereturns.ButprincipallyIwanttoknowwhyyouexecutedawillinfavourofEstremedaandleftmewithabeggarlytwentythousandpoundstofacetheworld?"

Shenearlycollapsedwiththeshock.

"A will, my boy?" She whined the words. "What on earth are you talkingabout?"

"Thewillwhichyoumadeandputintothatsecretdrawerofyourcabinet,"hesaid patiently, "and don't tellme that I'm dreaming, or that you did it for ajoke,orthatitwasanactofmentalaberrationonyourpart.Tellmethetruth!"

"It was awill Imade years ago,my dear," she quavered. "When I thoughttwentythousandpoundswasallthemoneyIpossessed."

"You'realiar,"saidDigbywithoutheat."Andastupidoldliar.Youmadethatwilltospiteme,youolddevil!"

Shewasstaringathiminhorror.

Digbywasmostdangerouswhenhetalkedinthatcool,eventoneofhis.

"I have destroyed the precious document," said Digby Groat in the sameconversational voice, "and when you see Miss Weldon, who witnessed itsdestruction, I would be glad if you would tell her that the will she sawconsumedwas onewhich youmadewhen youwere not quite right in yourhead."

Mrs.Groatwasincapableofspeech.Herchintrembledconvulsivelyandheronlythoughtwashowshecouldattracttheattentionofthenurse.

"Putmychairbackagainstthebed,Digby,"shesaidfaintly."Thelightistoostrong."

Hehesitated,butdidassheasked, thenseeingherhandcloseuponthebell-pushwhichhungbythesideofthebed,helaughed.

"Youneednot be afraid,mother," he said contemptuously, "I didnot intendtakinganyotheractionthanIhavealreadytaken.Rememberthatyourinfernalnurse will not be here all the time, and do as I ask you. I will sendMissWeldonuptoyouinafewminutesontheexcuseoftakinginstructionsfromyou and answering some letters which came for you thismorning. Do youunderstand?"

Shenodded,andatthatmomentthenursecamein.

Summonedtothesick-room,Eunicefoundheremployerlookingmorefeeblethanshehadappearedbeforeshewasstrickendown.Theoldwoman'seyessmouldered their hate, as the girl came into the room. She guessed it wasEunicewhohaddiscoveredthewillandloathedher,butfearwasthegreaterinher,andafterthefewlettershadbeenformallyanswered,Mrs.Groatstoppedthegirl,whowasintheactofrising.

"Sitdownagain,missWeldon,"shesaid."Iwantedtotellyouaboutawillofminethatyoufound.I'mverygladyoudiscoveredit.IhadforgottenthatIhadmadeit."

Everywordwasstrainedandhatefultoutter.

"Yousee,mydearyoungwoman,Isometimessufferfromacuriouslapseofmemory,and—and—thatwillwasmadewhenIwassufferingfromanattack—"

Eunice listened to the haltingwords andwas under the impression that the

hesitationwasduetotheoldwoman'sweakness.

"Iquiteunderstand,Mrs.Groat,"shesaidsympathetically."Yoursontoldme."

"Hetoldyou,didhe?"saidJaneGroat,returningtohercontemplationofthewindow; then,whenEunicewaswaiting forherdismissal, "Areyouagreatfriendofmyson's?"

Eunicesmiled.

"No,notagreatfriend,Mrs.Groat,"shesaid.

"Youwillbe,"saidthewoman,"greaterthanyouimagine,"andtherewassuchmalignityinthetonethatthegirlshuddered.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

JIMlovedLondon,thenoiseandthesmellofit.Heloveditsgentlethunders,its ineradicablegood-humour, its sublimemuddle.Parisdepressedhim,withitsairofgaietyandtheunderlyingfiercenessoflife'sstruggle.Therewasnorest in the soul of Paris. It was a city of strenuous bargaining, of ruthlessexploitation. Brussels was a dumpy undergrown Paris, Berlin a stuccoGomorrah,Madridanextinctcraterbeneathwhichanewvolcanicstreamwasseekingavent.

NewYorkheloved,acityofsteelandconcreteteemingwithsentimentalistsposingastyrants.TherewasnothingquitelikeNewYorkintheworld.DanteinhismostprodigalmoodmighthavedreamtNewYorkanddaVincimighthaveplannedit,butonlythehighgodscouldhavematerializedthedreamorbuilttothemaster'splan.ButLondonwasLondon—incomparable,beautiful.Itwasthehistoryoftheworldandthemarkofcivilization.HemadeadetourandpassedthroughCoventGarden.

The blazing colour and fragrance of it! Jim could have lingered all themorninginthedraughtyhalls,buthewasdueattheofficetomeetMr.Salter.

Almostthefirstquestionthatthelawyeraskedhimwas:

"HaveyouinvestigatedSelengers?"

Theidentityof themysteriousSelengershadbeenforgottenfor themoment,Jimadmitted.

"You ought to know who they are," said the lawyer. "You will probablydiscover thatGroat or hismother are behind them.The fact that the officeswereoncethepropertyofDantonrathersupportsthisidea—thoughtheoriesareanabominationtome!"

Jimagreed.Thereweresomanyissuestothecasethathehadalmostlostsightofhismainobject.

"ThemoreI thinkofit,"heconfessed"themoreuselessmysearchseemstome, Mr. Salter. If I find Lady Mary, you say that I shall be no nearer tofrustratingtheGroats?"

Mr. Septimus Salter did not immediately reply. He had said as much, butsubsequently had amended his point of view. Theories, as he had soemphatically stated,were abominable alternatives to facts, and yet he couldnotgetoutofhishead that if the theoryhehadformed toaccount forLadyMary Danton's obliteration were substantiated, a big step would have beentakentowardclearingupahostofminormysteries.

"GoaheadwithSelengers,"hesaidat last;"possiblyyoumayfindthat theirinquiriesaremadeasmuchtofindLadyMaryas toestablish the identityofyouryoungfriend.Atanyrate,youcan'tbedoingmuchharm."

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

ATtwelveo'clockthatnightEuniceheardacardrawupinfrontofthehouse.Shehadnotyetretired,andshesteppedoutontothebalconyasDigbyGroatascendedthesteps.

Eunice closed the door and pulled the curtains across. She was not tiredenough togo tobed.Shehadveryfoolishlysuccumbed to the temptation totakeadozethatafternoon,andtooccupyhertimeshehadbroughtupthelastbundleofaccounts,unearthedfromaboxinthewine-cellar,andhadspenttheeveningtabulatingthem.

Shefinishedthelastaccount,andfixingarubberbandroundthem,roseandstretchedherself,andthensheheardasound;astealthyfootuponthestoneofthebalconyfloor.Therewasnomistakingit.Shehadneverhearditbeforeonthe occasion of the earlier visits. She switched out the light, drew back thecurtains noiselessly and softly unlocked the French window. She listened.There itwas again. She felt no fear, only the thrill of impending discovery.Suddenly she jerked open thewindow and stepped out, and for a time saw

nothing,thenashereyesgrewaccustomedtothedarkness,shesawsomethingcrouchingagainstthewall.

"Whoisthat?"shecried.

Therewasnoreplyforalittletime;thenthevoicesaid:

"Iamawfullysorrytohavefrightenedyou,Eunice."

ItwasJimSteele.

"Jim!"shegaspedincredulously,andthenawaveofangersweptoverher.SoithadbeenJimallthetimeandnotawoman!Jim,whohadbeensupportinghisprejudicesbythesecontemptibletricks.Herangerwasunreasonable,butitwasveryrealandbornoftheshockofdisillusionment.SherememberedinaflashhowsympatheticJimhadbeenwhenshetoldhimofthemidnightvisitorandhowhehadpretendedtobepuzzled.Sohewasfoolingherallthetime.Itwashatefulofhim!

"Ithinkyouhadbettergo."shesaidcoldly.

"Letmeexplain,Eunice."

"I don't think any explanation is necessary," she said. "Really, Jim, it isdespicableofyou."

Shewentbacktoherroomwithawildlybeatingheart.Shecouldhaveweptforvexation.Jim!HewasthemysteriousBlueHand,shethoughtindignantly,andhehadmadea laughing-stockofher!Probablyhewas thewriterof theletters,too,andhadbeeninherroomthatnight.Shestampedherfootinheranger.Shehatedhimfordeceivingher.Shehatedhimforshatteringtheidolshehadsetupinherheart.Shehadneverfeltsounutterablymiserableasshewaswhen she flung herself on her bed andwept until she fell asleep fromsheerexhaustion.

"Damn!"mutteredJimasheslippedoutofthehouseandstrodeinsearchofhismuddylittlecar.Anunprofitableeveninghadendedtragically.

"Bungling,heavy-footedjackass,"hegrowledsavagely,ashespunperilouslyroundacomerandnearlyintoataxi-cabwhichhadventuredtothewrongsideof the road.But hewasnot cursing the cab-driver. Itwashis own stupiditywhichhadledhimtotestthekeywhichhadmadearemarkableappearanceonhistablethenightbefore.Hehadgoneontothebalcony,merelytoexaminethefasteningsofthegirl'swindow,withtheideaofjudginghersecurity.

He felt miserable and would have been glad to talk his trouble over with

somebody.But therewas nobodyhe could think of, nobodywhomhe likedwell enough, unless it was—Mrs. Fane. He half smiled at the thought andwonderedwhat that invalid ladywouldthinkofhimifheknockedherupatthis hour to pour his woes into her sympathetic ears! The sweet, sad-facedwomanhadmadeaverydeepimpressionuponhim;hewassurprisedtofindhowoftenshecameintohisthoughts.

Half-wayupBakerStreethebroughthiscartoawalkingpaceandturned.HehadrememberedSelengers,andithadjustoccurredtohimthatatthishourhewasmorelikelytoprofitbyavisitthanbyadaytimecall.Itwasnearlytwoo'clockwhenhestoppedinBradeStreetanddescended.

Herememberedthejanitorhadtoldhimthattherewasasideentrance,whichwasusedalonebySelengers.Hefoundthenarrowcourtwhichledtothebackofthebuilding,andafteralittlesearchdiscoveredwhatwasevidentlythedoorwhich would bring him through the courtyard to the back of Brade StreetBuildings.Hetriedthedoor,andtohissurpriseitwasunlocked.Hearingthesoftpadofthepoliceman'sfeetinthestreet,andnotwishingtobediscoveredtryingstrangedoorsatthathour,hepassedthroughanddoseditbehindhim,waitingtilltheofficerhadpassedbeforehecontinuedhisinvestigations.

Inpreparationforsuchacontingency,hehadbroughtwithhimasmallelectriclamp,andwiththeaidofthishefoundhiswayacrossthepavedyardtoadoorwhichopenedintothebuilding.Thiswaslocked,hediscoveredtohisdismay.There must be another, he thought, and began looking for it. There werewindowsoverlookingthecourtyard,buttheseweresocarefullyshutteredthatitwasimpossibletotellwhetherlightsshonebehindthemornot.

Hefoundtheotherentranceatanangleoftwowalls,triedit,andtohisdelightitopened.Hewasinashortstonecorridorandatthefartherendwasabarredgate. Short of this and to the rightwas a green door. He turned the handlesoftly, and as it openedhe saw that a brilliant lightwas burningwithin.Hepusheditfartherandsteppedintotheroom.

Hewasinanofficewhichwasunfurnishedexceptforatableandachair,butitwasnotthedesolateappearanceoftheapartmentwhichheldhiseye.

Ashehadenteredawoman,dressedfromheadtofootinblack,waspassingtoasecondroom,andatthesoundofthedoorsheturnedquicklyanddrewherveiloverherface.Butshehaddelayedthatactionalittle toolong,andJim,with a gasp of amazement, had looked upon the face of that "incurableinvalid"Mrs.Fane!

CHAPTERNINETEEN

"Whoareyou,andwhatdoyouwant?"sheasked.Hesawherhanddroptothefoldofherdress,then:"Mr.Steele,"shesaidassherecognizedhim.

"I'msorry todisturbyou,"saidJimasheclosedthedoorbehindhim,"butIwantedtoseeyouprettybadly."

"Sitdown,Mr.Steele.Didyouseemy—"shehesitated,"seemyface?"

Henoddedgravely.

"Anddidyourecognizeme?"

Henoddedagain.

"Yes,youareMrs.Fane,"hesaidquietly.

Slowlyherhandsroseandsheunpinnedtheveil.

"Youmaylockthedoor,"shesaid;"yes,IamMrs.Fane."

He was so bewildered, despite his seeming self-possession, that he hadnothingtosay.

"You probably think that I have been practising a wicked and meandeception,"shesaid,"buttherearereasons—excellentreasons—whyIshouldnot be abroad in the daytime, and why, if I were traced to FeatherdaleMansions,Ishouldnotbeidentifiedwiththewomanwhowalksatnight."

"Thenitwasyouwholeftthekey?"hesaid.

Shenodded,andallthetimehereyesneverlefthisface.

"IamafraidIcannotenlightenyouanyfarther,"shesaid,"partlybecauseIamnotpreparedatthismomenttorevealmyhandandpartlybecausethereissolittlethatIcouldrevealifIdid."

Andonlyafewminutesbeforehehadbeenthinkinghowjollyitwouldbeifhecouldlayallhistroublesandperplexitiesbeforeher.Itwasincrediblethatheshouldbetalkingwithheratthismidnighthourinaprosaiccityoffice.Helookedatthedelicatewhitehandwhichrestedagainstherbreastandsmiled,andshe,withherquickperceptions,guessedthecauseofhisamusement.

"YouarethinkingoftheBlueHand?"shesaidquickly.

"Yes,IamthinkingoftheBlueHand,"saidJim.

"Youhaveanideathatthatisjustapieceofchicaneryandthatthehandhasnosignificance?"sheaskedquietly.

"Curiouslyenough,Idon'tthinkthat,"saidJim."Ibelievebehindthatsymbolisaveryinterestingstory,butyoumusttellitinyourowntime,Mrs.Fane."

Shepacedtheroomdeepinthought,herhandsclaspedbeforeher,herchinonher breast, and he waited, wondering how this strange discovery woulddevelop.

"You came because you heard from South Africa that I had been makinginquiriesaboutthegirl—sheisnotindanger?"

"No,"saidJimwithawryface."AtpresentIamindangerofhavingoffendedherbeyondpardon."

Shelookedathimsharply,butdidnotaskforanexplanation.

"Ifyouhadthoughtmywarningsweretheatricalandmeaningless,Ishouldnothaveblamedyou,"shesaidafterawhile,"butIhadtoreachherinsomewaythatwouldimpressher."

"There is something I cannot understand, Mrs. Fane," said Jim. "SupposeEunicehadtoldDigbyGroatofthiswarning?"

Shesmiled.

"Heknows,"shesaidquietly,andJimrememberedthehandonthelaboratorydoor. "No,he is not thepersonwhowill understandwhat it allmeans," shesaid."As toyourEunice,"her lipsparted inadazzling littlesmile,"Iwouldnotlikeanyharmtocometothechild."

"Haveyouanyspecialreasonforwishingtoprotecther?"askedJim.

Sheshookherhead.

"IthoughtIhadamonthago,"shesaid."IthoughtshewassomebodywhomIwasseeking.Achanceresemblance, fleetingandelusive,broughtmetoher;shewasoneoftheshadowsIpursued,"shesaidwithabitterlittlesmile,"oneof the ghosts that led nowhere. She interested me. Her beauty, her freshinnocenceandhercharacterhavefascinatedme,eventhoughshehasceasedtobetherealobjectofmysearch.Andyou,Mr.Steele.Sheinterestsyoutoo?"Sheeyedhimkeenly.

"Yes,"saidJim,"sheinterestsmetoo."

"Doyouloveher?"

Thequestionwassounexpected that Jimforoncewasnotpreparedwithananswer. He was a reticent man ordinarily, and now that the opportunitypresentedhecouldnotdiscussthestateofhisfeelingstowardsEunice.

"Ifyoudonotreallyloveher,"saidthewoman,"donothurther,Mr.Steele.She is a very younggirl, too good to be the passing amusement thatDigbyGroatintendssheshallbe."

"Doeshe?"saidJimbetweenhisteeth.

Shenodded.

"Thereisagreatfutureforyou,andIhopethatyouwillnotruinthatcareerbyaninfatuationwhichhastheappearanceatthemomentofbeinglove."

He lookedat the flushedandanimated faceand thought thatnext toEuniceshewasthemostbeautifulwomanhehadeverseen.

"Iamalmostattheendofmypursuit,"shewenton,"andoncewecanbringDigbyGroatandhismothertobook,myworkwillbedone."Sheshookherheadsadly."Ihavenofurtherhope,nofurtherhope,"shesaid.

"Hopeofwhat?"askedJim.

"FindingwhatIsought,"saidMrs.Fane,andherluminouseyeswerefixedonhis."ButIwasmad,Isoughtthatwhichisbeyondrecall,andImustusetheremainingyearsofmylifeforsuchhappinessasGodwillsendtome.Forty-three years of waste!" she threw out her arms with a passionate gesture."Forty-three years of suffering.A loveless childhood, a lovelessmarriage, abitter betrayal. I have lost everything,Mr. Steele, everything. Husband andchildandhope."

Jimstartedback.

"GoodGod!"hesaid,"thenyouare—"

"IamLadyMaryDanton."She lookedathimstrangely. "I thoughtyouhadguessedthat."

LadyMaryDanton!

Thenhissearchwasended, thoughtJimwithdismay.Aqueerunsatisfactoryending,whichbroughthimnonearertorewardoradvancement,bothofwhichweresovitallynecessarynow.

"You lookdisappointed," she said, "andyetyouhad setyourselfout to findLadyMary."Henodded.

"Andyouhavefoundher.Isshelessattractivethanyouhadimagined?"

Hedidnotreply.Hecouldnottellherthathisrealsearchhadnotbeenforher,butforherdeadchild.

"DoyouknowIhavebeenseeingyoueverydayformonths,Mr.Steele?"sheasked."Ihavesatbyyoursideinrailwaytrains,intubetrains,andevenstoodbyyoursideintubelifts,"shesaidwiththeghostofasmile."IhavewatchedyouandstudiedyouandIhavelikedyou."

Shesaidthelastwordsdeliberatelyandherbeautifulhandrestedforasecondonhisshoulder.

"Search your heart about Eunice," she said, "and if you find that you aremistakeninyoursentiments,rememberthatthereisagreatdealofhappinesstobefoundinthisorworld."ITherewasnomistakinghermeaning.

"IloveEunice,"saidJimquietly,andthehandthatrestedonhisshoulderwaswithdrawn,"IloveherasIshallneverloveanyotherwomaninlife.Sheisthebeginningandendofmydreams."Hedidnot lookupat thewoman,buthecouldhearherquickbreathing.Presentlyshesaidinalowvoice:

"Iwasafraidso—Iwasafraidso."And thenJim,whosemoralcouragewasbeyondquestion,roseandfacedher.

"LadyMary," he saidquietly, "youhave abandonedhope that youwill everfindyourdaughter?"Shenodded.

"SupposeEunicewereyourdaughter?Wouldyougivehertome?"Sheraisedhereyestohis.

"Iwould give her to youwith thankfulness," she said, "for you are the onemanintheworldwhomIwoulddesireanygirlIlovedtomarry"—sheshookherhead."Butyou, too,arepursuingshadows,"shesaid."Eunice isnotmydaughter—Ihave traced her parentage and there is no doubt at all upon thematter.SheisthedaughterofaSouthAfricanmusician."

"Haveyouseenthescaronherwrist?"heaskedslowly.Itwashislasthopeofidentification,andwhensheshookherhead,hisheart'sank.

"Ididnotknowthatshehadascaronherwrist.Whatkindofascarisit?"sheasked.

"Asmallroundburnthesizeofasixpence,"saidJim.

"Mybabyhadnosuchmark—shehadnoblemishwhatever."

"Nothingthatwouldhaveinducedsomeevillydisposedpersontoremove?"

LadyMaryshookherhead.

"Oh, no," she said faintly. "You are chasing shadows,Mr. Steele, almost aspersistentlyasIhavedone.Nowletmetellyousomethingaboutmyself,"shesaid, "and I warn you that I am not going to elucidate the mystery of mydisappearance—that can wait. This building is mine," she said. "I am theproprietor of the whole block. My husband bought it and in a moment ofunexampledgenerositypresentedittomethedayafteritspurchase.Infact,itwasminewhenitwassupposedtobehis.Hewasnotagenerousman,"shesaid sadly, "but I will not speak of his treatment of me. This property hasprovidedmewithan incomeample formyneeds,andIhave, too,a fortunewhich I inherited frommyfather.WeweredesperatelypoorwhenImarriedMr.Danton,"sheexplained,"andonlyaweekortwolatermyfather'scousin,LordPethingham,died, and father inherited a very large sumofmoney, thegreaterportionofwhichcametome."

"WhoisMadgeBenson?"hedemanded.

"Needyouaskthat?"shesaid."Sheismyservant."

"Whydidshegotoprison?"

Hesawthewoman'supsclosetight.

"YoumustpromisenottoaskquestionsaboutthepastuntilIamreadytotellyou, Mr. Steele," she said, "and now I think you can see me home." Shelookedroundtheoffice."Thereareusuallyadozencablegramstobeseenandanswered.Aconfidentialclerkofminecomesinthemorningtoattendtothedispatch ofwireswhich I leave for him. I havemademyself a nuisance toeverytownclerkintheworld,fromBuenosAyrestoShanghai,"shesaidwithawhimsicallaughinwhichtherewasanoteofpain."'Theshadowhepursueth—' You know the old Biblical lines, Mr. Steele, and I am so tired of mypursuit,soverytired!"

"Andisitendednow?"askedJim.

"Notyet,"saidLadyMary,andsuddenlyhervoicegrewhardanddetermined."No,we'vestillgotalotofworkbeforeus,Jim—"Sheusedthewordshylyandlaughedlikeachildwhenshesawhimcolour."EvenEunicewillnotmindmycallingyouJim,"shesaid,"anditissuchanicename,easilyremembered,andithastheadvantageofnotbeingapopularnicknamefordogsandcats."

Hewas dying to ask herwhy, if shewas sowell off, she had taken up herresidence in a little fiat overlooking a railway line, and itwasprobable that

hadheaskedher,hewouldhavereceivedanunsatisfactoryreply.

Hetookleaveofheratherdoor.

"Goodnight,neighbour,"hesmiled.

"Goodnight,Jim,"shesaidsoftly.

AndJimwasstillsittinginhisbigarm-chairponderingtheeventsofthenightwhenthefirstraysoftherisingsunmadeagoldenpatternupontheblind.

CHAPTERTWENTY

EARLYthenextmorningadistrictmessengerarrivedattheflatwithaletterfromEunice,andhegroanedbeforeheopenedit.

Shehadwrittenit in thehurtofherdiscoveryandtherewerephraseswhichmadehimwince.

"Ineverdreamtitwasyou,andafterallthepretenceyoumadethatthiswasawoman!Itwasn'tfairofyou,Jim.Tosecureasensationyounearlyfrightenedmetodeathonmyfirstnighthere,andmademelookridiculousinorderthatImightfallintoyourwaitingarms!Iseeitallnow.YoudonotlikeMr.Groat,and were determined that I should leave his house, and this is the methodwhichyouhavefollowed.Ishallfinditveryhardtoforgiveyouandperhapsyouhadbetternotseemeagainuntilyouhearfromme."

"Oh,damn,"saidJimforthefortiethtimesincehehadlefther.

Whatcouldhedo?Hewrotehalfadozenlettersandtorethemallup,everyoneofthemintoshreds.HecouldnotexplaintoherhowthekeycameintohispossessionwithoutbetrayingLadyMaryDanton'ssecret.Andnowhewouldfind it more difficult than ever to convince her that Digby Groat was anunscrupulousvillain.Thepositionwashopelessandhegroanedagain.Thenathoughtstruckhimandhecrossedthelandingtothenextflat.

Madge Benson opened the door and this time regarded him a little morefavourably.

"My lady is asleep," she said. She knew that Jimwas aware ofMrs. Fane'sidentity.

"Doyouthinkyoucouldwakeher?Itisratherimportant."

"I will see," said Madge Benson, and disappeared into the bedroom. Shereturned ina fewmoments."Madame isawake.Sheheardyourknock,"shesaid."Willyougoin?"

LadyMarywaslyingonthebedfullydressed,wrappedinadressing-gown,andshetooktheletterfromJim'shandwhichhehandedherwithoutaword,andread.

"Havepatience,"shesaidasshehandeditback."Shewillunderstandintime."

"And in themeanwhile," said Jim,hisheartheavy, "anythingcanhappen toher!ThisistheverythingIdidn'twanttooccur."

"Youwenttothehouse.Didyoudiscoveranything?"

Heshookhishead.

"Takenonoticeanddonotworry,"saidLadyMary,settlingdowninthebedandclosinghereyes,"andnowpleaseletmesleep,Mr.Steele;Ihavenotbeentobedfortwenty-fourhours."

Eunicehadnotdispatched themessengerwith the letter to Jim fiveminutesbefore she regretted the impulsewhich hadmade herwrite it. She had saidbitter thingswhich she did not really feel. Itwas an escapade of hiswhichought tobeforgiven,becauseat thebackof it,shethought,washis loveforher. She had further reason to doubt her wisdom, when, going into DigbyGroat'slibraryshefoundhimstudyingalargephotograph.

"Thatisverygood,consideringitwastakeninartificiallight,"hesaid.Itwasanenlargedphotographofhislaboratorydoorbearingtheblueimprint,andsocarefullyhadthephotographerdonehiswork,thateverylineandwhorlofthefinger-tipsshowed.

"Itisawoman'shand,ofcourse,"hesaid.

"Awoman!"shegasped."Areyousure?"

Helookedupinsurprise.

"OfcourseI'msure,"saidDigby;"lookatthesizeofit!Itismuchtoosmallforaman."

So she had wronged Jim cruelly! And yet what was he doing there in thehouse?Howhadhegotin?Thewholethingwassoinexplicablethatshegaveitup,only—shemusttellJimandaskhimtoforgiveher.

Assoonasshewasfreeshewenttothetelephone.Jimwasnotintheoffice.

"Whoisitspeaking?"askedthevoiceoftheclerk.

"Nevermind,"saidthegirlhurriedly,andhungupthereceiver.

Alldaylongshewashauntedbythethoughtoftheinjusticeshehaddonethemansheloved.Hewouldsendheranote,shethought,orwouldcallherup,andateveryringofthetelephonethebloodcameintoherface,onlytorecedewhen she heard the answer, and discovered the caller was some person inwhomshehadnointerest.

That day was one of the longest she had ever spent in her life. There waspracticallynowork todo,andeven thedubiousentertainmentofDigbywasdeniedher.Hewentoutinthemorninganddidnotcomebackuntillateintheafternoon,goingoutagainassoonashehadchangedhisclothes.

She ate her dinner in solitude and was comforted by the thought that shewould soon be free from this employment. She had written to her oldemployerandhehadansweredbyreturnofpost,sayinghowgladhewouldbeifhecouldgetherback.Thentheycouldhavetheirlittletea-partiesalloveragain,shethought,andJim,freeofthisobsessionaboutDigbyGroat,wouldbehisoldcheerfulself,

ThenursewasgoingoutthateveningandMrs.Groatsentforher.Shehatedthegirl,butshehatedthethoughtofbeingalonemuchmore.

"Iwantyoutositherewithmeuntil thenursecomeshome,"shesaid."Youcantakeabookandread,butdon'tfidget."

Eunicesmiledtoherselfandwentinsearchofabook.

She came back in time to find Mrs. Groat hiding something beneath herpillow.Theysatinsilenceforanhour,theoldwomanplayingwithherhandsonherlap,herheadsunkforward,deepinthought,thegirltryingtoread,andfinding it very difficult. Jim's face so constantly came between her and theprinted page, that shewould have been glad for an excuse to put down thebook,gladforanydiversion.

ItwasMrs.Groatwhoprovidedherwithanescapefromherennui.

"Wheredidyougetthatscaronyourwrist?"sheasked,lookingup.

"Idon'tknow,"saidEunice."IhavehaditeversinceIwasababy.I thinkImusthavebeenburnt."

Therewasanotherlongsilence.

"Wherewereyouborn?"

"InSouthAfrica,"saidthegirl.

Againtherewasaninterval,brokenonlybythecreakofMrs.Groat'schair.

Insheerdesperation,forthesituationwasgettingonhernerves,Eunicesaid:"Ifoundanoldminiatureofyourstheotherday,Mrs.Groat."

Thewomanfixedherwithherdarkeyes.

"Ofme?" she said, and then, "Oh, yes, I remember.Well?Did you think itlookslikeme?"sheaskedsourly.

"Ithinkitwasprobablylikeyouyearsago.Icouldtracearesemblance,"saidEunicediplomatically.

TheanswerseemedtoamuseJaneGroat.Shehadamordantsenseofhumour,thegirlwastodiscover.

"LikemewhenIwaslikethat,eh?"shesaid."DoyouthinkIwaspretty?"

HereEunicecouldspeakwhole-heartedlyandwithoutevasion.

"Ithinkyouwereverybeautiful,"shesaidwarmly.

"Iwas,too,"saidthewoman,speakinghalftoherself."Myfathertriedtoburyme in a dead-and-alive village.He thought Iwas too attractive for town.Awicked, heartless brute of a man," she said, and the girl was somewhatshocked.

ApparentlytheolddoctrineoffilialpietydidnotruninJaneGroat'sfamily.

"WhenIwasagirl,"theoldwomanwenton,"theheadofthefamilywasthefamilytyrant,andlivedfortheexerciseofhispower.MyfatherhatedmefromthemomentIwasbornandIhatedhimfromthemomentIbegantothink."

Eunice said nothing. She had not invited the confidence, nevertheless itfascinatedhertohearthiswomandrawasidetheveilwhichhidthepast.Whatgreat tragedy had happened, she speculated, that had turned the beautifuloriginaloftheminiatureintothishardandevil-lookingwoman?

"Men would run after me. Miss Weldon," she said with a curiouscomplacence."Menwhosenamesarefamousthroughouttheworld."

The girl remembered theMarquis of Estremeda and wondered whether hergenerositytohimwasduetotheparthehadplayedaspursuinglover.

"Therewasonemanwholovedme,"saidtheoldwomanreflectively,"buthedidn't love me well enough. He must have heard something, I suppose,

because he was going to many me and then he broke it off and married asimperingfoolofagirlfromMalaga."

She chuckled to herself. She had had no intention of discussing her privateaffairs with Eunice Weldon, but something had started her on a train ofreminiscence.Besides, she regardedEunicealreadyasanunofficialmemberof the family.Digbywould tellher sooneror later.Shemight aswellknowfromher,shethought.

"HewasaMarquis,"shewenton,"ahardman,too,andhetreatedmebadly.MyfatherneverforgavemeafterIcameback,andneverspokeanotherwordinhislife,althoughhelivedfornearlytwentyyears."

Aftershehadcomeback,thoughtEunice.ThenshehadgoneawaywiththisMarquis?TheMarquisofEstremeda.Andthenhehaddesertedher,andhadmarriedthis"simperingfool"fromMalaga.Graduallythestorywasrevealingitselfbeforehereyes.

"Whathappenedtothegirl?"sheaskedgently.Shewasalmostafraidtospeakunlessshestoppedtheloquaciouswoman.

"Shedied,"saidMrs.Groatwithathinsmile."HesaidIkilledher.Ionlytoldherthetruth.Besides,Iowedhimsomething,"shefrowned."IwishIhadn't,"shemuttered, "I wish I hadn't. Sometimes the ghost of her comes into thisroomandlooksdownatmewithherdeepblackeyesandtellsmethatIkilledher!"Shemumbledsomething,andagainwiththatnoteofcomplacencyinhervoice:

"Whensheheardthatmychildwastheson—"shestoppedquicklyandlookedround."WhatamItalkingabout?"shesaidgruffly.

Euniceheldherbreath.Nowsheknew the secret of this strangehousehold!Jimhadtoldhersomethingabout it; toldherof thelittleshippingclerkwhohadmarriedMrs.Groat, and forwhom she had so profound a contempt.Ashippingclerkfromtheoldman'soffice,whomhehadpaidtomarrythegirlthathershameshouldbehidden.

DigbyGroatwas actually the sonof—theMarquis ofEstremeda! In lawhewasnoteventheheirtotheDantonmillions!

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

EUNICE could only stare at the old woman. "Get on with your book,"grumbledMrs.Groatpettishly,andthegirl,lookingupthroughherlashes,sawthesuspiciouseyesfixedonherand the tremulousmouthmovingas thoughshewerespeaking.

She must tell Jim. Despite her sense of loyalty, she realized that this wasimperative.JimwasvitallyinterestedinthedisposaloftheDantonestate,andhemustknow.

Suddenlytheoldwomanbeganspeakingagain.

"WhatdidItellyoujustnow?"sheasked.

"Youweretalkingaboutyouryouth,"saidthegirl.

"Did I sayanythingabout—aman?"asked theoldwomansuspiciously.Shehadforgotten!Euniceforcedthelietoherlips.

"No,"shereplied,soloudlythatanybodybutthismuddledwomanwouldhaveknownshewasnotspeakingthetruth.

"Becarefulofmyson,"saidMrs.Groatafterawhile."Don'tcrosshim.He'snotabad lad,notabad lad"—sheshookherheadandglancedslylyat thegirl."Heislikehisfatherinmanyways."

"Mr.Groat?"saidEunice,andfeltinexpressivelymeanattakingadvantageofthewoman'sinfirmity,butshesteeledherheartwiththethoughtthatJimmustbenefitbyherknowledge.

"Groat," sneered, the oldwoman contemptuously, "thatworm.No—yes, ofcoursehewasGroat.Whoelsecouldhebe;whoelse?"sheasked,hervoicerisingwrathfully.

Therewasasoundoutsideandsheturnedherheadandlistened.

"Youwon't leaveme alone.MissWeldon, until the nurse comes back, willyou?"shewhisperedwithpatheticeagerness."Youpromisemethat?"

"Why,ofcourseIpromiseyou,"saidEunice,smiling;"thatiswhyIamhere,tokeepyoucompany."

The door handle turned and the old woman watched it, fascinated. Euniceheard her audible gasp as Digby came in. He was in evening dress andsmokingacigarettethroughalongholder.

He seemed for the moment taken aback by the sight of Eunice and thensmiled.

"Ofcourse, it is thenurse'snightout, isn't it?Howareyou feeling to-night,mother?"

"Verywell,myboy,"shequavered,"verywellindeed.MissWeldoniskeepingmecompany."

"Splendid," saidDigby. "IhopeMissWeldonhasn'tbeenmakingyour fleshcreep."

"Oh,no,"saidthegirl,shocked,"ofcourseIhaven't.HowcouldI?"

"I was wondering whether you had been telling mother of our mysteriousvisitor," he laughed as he pulled up an easy chair and sat down. "Youdon'tmindmysmoke,mother,doyou?"

Eunice thought that even if old Jane Groat had objected it would not havemade the slightest difference toher son, but theoldwoman shookherheadandagainturnedherpleadingeyesonEunice.

"Ishouldliketocatchthatlady,"saidDigby,watchingacurlofsmokerisetotheceiling.

"Whatlady,myboy?"askedMrs.Groat.

"Theladywhohasbeenwanderinglooseroundthishouseatnight,leavinghermarkuponthepanelsofmydoor."

"Aburglar,"saidtheoldwoman,anddidnotseemgreatlyalarmed.

Digbyshookhishead.

"A woman and a criminal, I understand. She left a clear finger- print, andScotlandYardhavehad thephotographandhave identified itwith thatof awomanwhoservedasentenceinHollowayGaol."

AslightnoiseattractedEuniceandsheturnedtolookatJaneGroat.

She was sitting bolt upright, her black eyes staring, her face workingconvulsively.

"Whatwoman?"sheaskedharshly."Whatareyoutalkingabout?'"

Digbyseemedasmuchsurprisedasthegirltodiscovertheeffectthestatementhadmadeuponhismother.

"The woman who has been getting into this house and making herself aconfoundednuisancewithhermelodramaticsignature."

"Whatdoyoumean?"askedMrs.Groatwithpainfulslowness.

"ShehasleftthemarkofaBlueHandonmydoor—"

Beforehecouldfinishthesentencehismotherwasonherfeet,staringdownathimwithterrorinhereyes.

"ABlueHand!"shecriedwildly."Whatwasthatwoman'sname?"

"Accordingtothepolicereport,MadgeBenson,"saidDigby.

Forasecondsheglaredathimwildly.

"BlueHand," shemumbled, andwould have collapsed but for the fact thatEunicehadrecognizedthesymptomsandwasbyhersideandtookherinherstrongyoungarms.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

OUTSIDEthedoorinthedarkenedpassageamanwaslisteningintently.HehadtrailedDigbyGroatallthatevening,andhadfollowedhimintothehouse.Hearing amovementof footstepswithin, he slipped into a sidepassage andwaited.EuniceflewpasttheentrancetothepassageandJimSteelethoughtitwastimethathemadeamove.Inafewminutesthehousewouldbearoused,for he guessed that the old woman had collapsed. It was a desperate, madenterpriseofhis,toenterthegreathouseholdatsoearlyanhour,buthehadaparticularreasonforwishingtodiscoverthecontentsofaletterwhichhehadseenslippedintoDigby'shandthatnight.

JimhadbeenfollowinghimwithoutsuccessuntilDigbyGroathadalightedatPiccadillyCircusapparently tobuyanewspaper.Thena strangerhadedgedclose to himand Jimhad seen thequickpassageof thewhite envelope.Hemeanttoseethatletter.

He reached the ground floor in safety and hesitated. Should he go into thelaboratory whither Digby was certain to come, or should he—? A hurriedfootsteponthestairsabovedecidedhim:heslippedthroughthedoorleadingto Digby's study. Hiding-place there was none: he had observed the roomwhen he had been in there a few days previously. He was safe so long asnobodycameinandturnedonthelights.Jimheardthefootstepspassthedoor,andpulledhissoftfelthatfurtheroverhiseyes.Thelowerpartofhisfacehehadalreadyconcealedwithablacksilkhandkerchief,andiftheworstcameto

theworst,hecouldbattlehiswayoutandseeksafetyinflight.Nobodywouldrecognize him in the old grey suit he wore, and the soft collarless shirt. Itwould not be a very noble end to the adventure, but it would be lessignominiousthanbeingexposedagaintothescornofEunice.

Suddenlyhisheartbeatfaster.Somebodywascomingintothelibrary.Hesawtheunknownopenthedoorandhecroucheddownsothatthebiglibrarytablecoveredhimfromobservation.Instantlytheroomwasfloodedwithlight;Jimcouldonlyseethelegsoftheintruder,andtheywerethelegsofDigbyGroat.Digbymovedtothetable,andJimheardthetearofpaperasanenvelopewasslit,andthenanexclamationofangerfromtheman.

"Mr.Groat,pleasecomequickly!"

ItwasthevoiceofEunicecallingfromthefloorabove,andDigbyhurriedout,leavingthedooropen.HewasscarcelyoutofsightbeforeJimhadrisen;hisfirstglancewasatthetable.TheletterlayasDigbyhadthrownitdown,andhethrustitintohispocket.Inasecondhewasthroughthedoorwayandinthepassage.Jacksonwasstandingbythefootofthestairslookingup,andforthemomenthedidnotseeJim;then,at thesightof themaskedface,heopenedhismouthtoshoutawarning,andatthatinstantJimstruckathimtwice,andthemanwentdownwithacrash.

"What is that?" saidDigby's voice, but Jimwas out of the house, the doorslammed behind him, and was racing along the sidewalk toward BerkeleySquare,beforeDigbyGroatknewwhathadhappened.Heslackenedhispace,turnedsharptotheright,sothathecamebackonhistrack,andstoppedunderastreetlighttoreadtheletter.

Partsofitscontentscontainednoinformationforhim.Buttherewasonelinewhichinterestedhim:

"Steeleistrailingyou:wewillfixhimto-night."

Hereadthelineagainandsmiledashewalkedonatamoreleisurelypace.

Onceor twicehe thoughthewasbeingfollowed,and turnedround,butsawnobody.As he strolled up Portland Place, deserted at this hour of the nightsave for an occasional car, his suspicion that he was being followed wasstrengthened.Twomen,walkingonebehind the other, andkeeping close totherailings,wereabouttwentyyardsbehindhim.

"I'll give yon a run for your money, my lads," muttered Jim, and crossingMaryleboneRoad,hereachedtheloneliestpartofLondon,theoutercircleofRegent'sPark.And thenhebegan to run: and Jimhad takenboth the sprint

and the two-mile at the 'Varsity sports. He heard swift feet following andgrinned to himself. Then came the noise of a taxi door shutting. They hadpickedupthe"crawler"hehadpassed.

"Thatisveryunsporting,"saidJim,andturning,ranintheoppositedirection.Hewentpastthecablikeaflash,andhearditstopandaloudvoiceorderthetaxitoturn,andheslackenedhispace.Hehadalreadydecideduponhisplanofaction—onesobeautifullysimpleandsoembarrassingtoDigbyGroatandhisservitors,ifhissuspicionswereconfirmed,thatitwasworththebluff.Hehaddroppedtoawalkatthesightofapolicemancomingtowardhim.Asthetaxicameabreasthesteppedintotheroadway,grippedthehandleofthedoorandjerkeditopen.

"Comeout,"hesaidsternly.

Inthereflectedlightfromthetaximeterlanternhesawthedamagedfaceofanoldfriend.

"Come out, Jackson, and explain justwhy you're followingme through thepeacefulstreetsofthisgreatcity."

Themanwasloathtoobey,butJimgrippedhimbythewaistcoatanddraggedhimout,tothetaxi-driver'sastonishment.

Thesecondmanwasobviouslyaforeigner,alittledark,thin-facedmanwithamahoganyface,andtheystoodsheepishlyregardingtheirquarry.

"To-morrowyoucangoback toMr.DigbyGroat and tell him that thenexttimehesetsthemembersoftheThirteenGangtotrailme,I'llcomeafterhimwithenoughevidence ineachhand to leavehimswinging in thebrick-linedpitatWandsworth.Doyouunderstandthat?"

"Idon'tknowwhatyoumeanaboutto-morrow,"saidtheinnocentJacksoninanaggrievedtone."Wecouldhavethelawonyoufordraggingusoutofthecab."

"Tryit,herecomesapoliceman,"saidJim.Hegrippedhimbythecollaranddraggedhimtowardtheinterestedconstable."Ithinkthismanwantstomakeachargeagainstme."

"No,Idon't,"growledJackson,terrifiedastowhathismasterwouldsavwhenheheardofthisundramaticendtothetrailingofJim.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

THEREislittlethatisromanticaboutaPoliceStation,andDigbyGroat,whocameina toweringragetoreleasehisservants,wassofurious thathecouldnotevenseethehumoroussideofthesituation.

Once outside the building he dismissed one,Antonio Fuentes,with a curse,andpouredthevialsofwrathupontheunhappyJackson.

"You fool,youblunderingdolt,"he stormed. "I toldyou tokeep theman insight; Bronson would have carried out my orders without Steele knowing.Whythehelldidyoucarryarevolver?"

"How did I know he would play a dirty trick on me like that?" growledJackson;"besides,I'veneverheardoftheFirearmsAct."

It was a stupid but a dangerous situation, thought Digby Groat, as he satgnawinghisnailsinthelibrary.Itwasanoldtheoryofhisthatgreatschemescometonoughtandgreatcrimesaredetectedthroughsomecontemptiblelittlesliponthepartoftheconspirators.WhatJimhaddoneinthesimplest,easiestmanner,wastosetthepolicemovingagainsttheThirteen,andtobringtwoofitsmembersintothesearchinglightofamagisterialinquiry.Whatwasworse,he had associated DigbyGroat with the proceedings, thoughDigby had anexcusethatJacksonwashisvalet,and,assuch,entitledtohisinterest.Hehaddisclaimed all knowledge of Fuentes, but, as an act of generosity, as theSpaniardwasafriendofhisservant,hadgonebailforhimalso.

Had the Thirteen brought off a big coup, their tracks would have been sohidden,theirpreparationssoelaborated,thattheywouldhavedefieddetection.Andherethroughasimpleoffence,whichcarriednomorethanapenaltyofafive-pound fine, two of the members of the gang had come under policeobservation.Madmen!

Itwas a sleeplessnight forhim—evenhis threehourswasdeniedhim.Thedoctorattendinghismotherdidnotleaveuntilpastthreeo'clock.

"Itisnotexactlyastroke,butIthinkacollapseduetosomesuddenshock."

"Probablyyou're right,"saidDigby."But I thought itbest tocallyou in.Doyouthinkshewillrecover?"

"Oh.yes.Ishouldimagineshe'llbeallrightinthemorning."

Digby nodded. He agreed with that conclusion, without being particularlypleasedtohearit.

Difficultieswereincreasingdaily,itseemed;newobstacleswerebesettingthe

smoothpathofhislife,andhetracedthemonebyoneandreducedthemtoasinglecause—JimSteele.

Thenextmorning,afterhehadtelephonedtoashadysolicitorwhomheknew,orderinghim todefend the twomenwhowere tobechargedatMarylebonewithoffencesundertheFirearmsAct,hesentforEuniceWeldon.

"MissWeldon,"hesaid,"Iammakingchangesinthishouse,andIthoughtoftakingmymothertothecountrynextweek.Theairheredoesn'tseemtoagreewithher,andIdespairofhergettingbetterunlessshehasaradicalchangeofenvironment."

Shenoddedgravely.

"IamafraidIshallnotbeabletoaccompanyyou,Mr.Groat."

Helookedupathersharply.

"Whatdoyoumean,MissWeldon?"heasked.

"Thereisnotsufficientworkformetodohere,andIhavedecidedtoreturntomyoldemployment,"shesaid.

"Iamsorrytohearthat,MissWeldon,"hesaidquietly,"but,ofcourse,Iwillputnoobstacle inyourway.Thishasbeenacalamitoushouse recently,andyourexperiencehasnotbeenanexceedinglyhappyone,andthereforeIquiteunderstandwhy you are anxious to leave us. I could have wished that youwouldhave stayedwithmymother until shewas settled inmyplace in thecountry,butevenonthispointIwillnotpressyou."

She expected that hewouldhavebeen annoyed, andhis courtesy impressedher.

"I shall not, of course, think of leaving until I have done all that I possiblycan,"shehastenedtoadd,asheexpectedhertodo,"andreallyIhavenotbeenatallunhappyhere,Mr.Groat."

"Mr.Steeledoesn'tlikeme,doeshe?"hesmiled,andhesawherstiffen.

"Mr.Steelehasnovoiceinmyplans,"shesaid,"andIhavenotseenhimforseveraldays."

Sotherehadbeenaquarrel,thoughtDigby,anddecidedthathemustknowalittlemoreof this.Hewas toowily to askher point-blank, but the fact thattheyhadnotmetonthepreviousdaywasknowntohim.

EunicewasgladtogettheinterviewoverandtogouptoMrs.Groat,whohad

sentforheralittleearlier.

Theoldwomanwasinbedproppedupwithpillows,andapparentlywashernormalselfagain.

"You'vebeenalongtime,"shegrumbled.

"Ihadtoseeyourson,Mrs.Groat,"saidEunice.

Theoldwomanmutteredsomethingunderherbreath.

"Shutthedoorandlockit,"shesaid."Haveyougotyournote-book?"

Eunicepulledupachairtothebedside,andwonderedwhatwastheimportantepistlethatMrs.Groathaddecidedtodictate.Usuallyshehatedwritinglettersexceptwithherownhand,andthereasonforhersummonshadtakenthegirlbysurprise.

"IwantyoutowriteinmynametoMaryWeatherwale.Writethatdown."OldMrs.Groatspeltthename."TheaddressisinSomerset—HillFarm,Retherley,Somerset.NowsaytoherthatIamveryill,andthatIhopeshewillforgiveouroldquarrelandwillcomeupandstaywithme—underlinethatIamveryill," said JaneGroatemphatically. "Tellher that Iwillpayherexpensesandgiveher£5aweek.Isthattoomuch?"sheasked."No,don'tputthesalaryatall.I'llbeboundshe'llcome;they'repoorlyon,theWeatherwales.Tellhershemustcomeatonce.Underlinethat,too."

Thegirlscribbleddownherinstructions.

"Nowlisten.MissWeldon."JaneGroat loweredhervoice."Youare towritethis letter, and not to let my son know that yon have done it: do youunderstand?Postityourself;don'tgiveittothathorribleJackson.AndagainItellyounottoletmysonknow."

Eunicewonderedwhatwasthereasonforthemystery,butshecarriedouttheoldwoman'sinstructions,andpostedtheletterwithoutDigby'sknowledge.

TherewasnowordfromJim,thoughsheguessedhewasthemaskedstrangerwho had knocked down Jackson in the hall. The strain of waiting wasbeginningtotelluponEunice;shehadgrownoddlynervous,startedateverysound,anditwasthisunusualexhibitionofnerveswhichhadfinallydecidedher to leave Grosvenor Square and return to the less exciting life at thephotographicstudio.

Why didn't Jim write, she asked herself fretfully, and immediately afterrelentlesslogicdemandedofherwhyshedidnotwritetoJim.

Shewentforawalkintheparkthatafternoonhopingthatshewouldseehim,butalthoughshesatforanhourunderhisfavouritetree,hedidnotputinanappearanceandshewenthomedepressedandangrywithherself.

Astampuponapostcardwouldhavebroughthim,butthatpostcardshewouldnotwrite.

ThenextdaybroughtMrs.MaryWeatherwale,astout,cheerywomanofsixty,with a rosy apple face. She came in a four-wheeled cab, depositing herluggageinthehall,andgreetedEunicelikeanoldfriend.

"How is she,my darling?" ("Darling"was a favouriteword of hers, Eunicediscoveredwithamusement.)"PooroldJane,Ihaven'tseenherforyearsandyears.Weusedtobegoodfriendsonce,youknow,verygoodfriends,butshe—butthere,letbygonesbebygones,darling;showmetoherroom,willyou?"

It requiredall thecheerfulnessofMrs.Weatherwale todisguisehershockattheappearanceofherone-timefriend.

"Why,Jane,"shesaid,"what'sthematterwithyou?"

"Sitdown,Mary,"saidtheotherpettishly."Allright,younglady,youneedn'twait."

This ungrateful dismissal was addressed to Eunice, who was very glad tomakeherescape.Shewaspassingthroughthehalllaterintheafternoon,whenDigbyGroatcamein.Helookedattheluggage,whichhadnotbeenremovedfromthehall,andturnedwithafrowntoEunice.

"Whatisthemeaningofthis?"heasked."Towhomdoesthisbelong?"

"AfriendofMrs.Groatiscoiningtostay,"saidEunice.

"Afriendofmother's?"heansweredquickly."Doyouknowhername?"

"Mrs.Weatherwale."

Shesawaninstantchangecomeoverhisface.

"Mrs.Weatherwale,eh,"hesaidslowly."Comingtostayhere?Atmymother'sinvitation, I suppose."He stripped his gloves and flung themon to the halltableandwentupthestairstwoatatime.

Whathappenedinthesick-roomEunicecouldonlyguess.Thefirstintimationshe had that all was not well, was the appearance of Mrs. Weatherwalestrutting down the stairs, her face as red as a turkey-cock, her bead bonnettremblingwithanger.ShecaughtsightofEuniceandbeckonedher.

"Getsomebodytofindacabforme,mydarling,"shesaid."I'mgoingbacktoSomerset. I've been thrown out,my darling!What do you think of that?Awomanofmyageandmyrespectability;thrownoutbyadirtylittledevilofaboythatIwouldn'tharbourinmycow-yard."Shewascholericandhervoicewas trembling with her righteous rage. "I'm talking about you," she said,raisinghervoice,andaddressingsomebody,apparentlyDigby,whowasoutofsightofEunice."Youalwayswereacruellittlebeast,andifanythinghappenstoyourmother,I'mgoingtothepolice."

"YouhadbettergetoutbeforeIsendforapoliceman,"saidDigby'sgrowlingvoice.

"Iknowyou,"sheshookherfistatherinvisibleenemy."I'veknownyoufortwenty-threeyears,myboy,andamorecruelandnastiermanneverlived!"

Digbycameslowlydownthestairs,asmileonhisface.

"Really,Mrs.Weatherwale,"hesaid,"youareunreasonable. I simplydonotwantmymother to be associatedwith the kind of people she chose as herfriendswhenshewasagirl.Ican'tberesponsibleforhervulgartastesthen;Icertainlyamresponsiblenow."

Therosyfaceofthewomanflushedanevendeeperred.

"Common!Vulgar!" she spluttered. "You say that?Youdirty little foreigner.Ah!Thatgothome.Iknowyoursecret,Mr.DigbyGroat!"

Ifeyescouldkill,shewouldhavediedatthatmoment.Heturnedatthefootofthestairsandwalkedintohisstudy,andslammedthedoorbehindhim.

"Whenever yon want to know anything about that!"—Mrs. Weatherwalepointedattheclosedoor—"sendforme.I'vegotlettersfromhismotherabouthimwhenhewasachildofsohighthatwouldmakeyourhairstandonends,darling."

When at last a cab bore the indignant lady fromGrosvenor Square, Eunicebreathedasighofrelief.Onemorefamilyskeleton,shethought,butshehadalreadyinspected thegrislybones.Shewouldnotbesorry tofollowinMrs.Weatherwale's footsteps, though, unknown to her, Digby Groat had otherplans.

Thoseplanswerematuring,whenheheardasharprat-tatatthedoorandcameoutintothehall."Wasthatatelegramforme?"heasked.

"No,forme,"saidEunice,andtherewasnoneedtoaskwhomthatmessagewasfrom;hershiningeyes,herflushedface,toldtheirownstory.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

"JIM!"

Eunice came running across thegrasswithout-stretchedhands, oblivious tothefactthatitwasbroaddaylightandthatshewasbeingwatchedbyatleastahundredidleloungersinthepark.

Jim took both her hands in his and she experienced a moment of serenecomfort. Then they both talked at once; they were both apologetic,interrupting one another's explanations with the expression of their owncontrition.

"Jim,I'mgoingtoleaveMrs.Groat'shouse,"shesaidwhentheyhadreachedsanity.

"ThankGodforthat,"saidJim.

"Youaresosolemnaboutit,"shelaughed."DidyoureallythinkIwasinanydangerthere?"

"Iknowyouwere,"hesaid.

Shehadsomuchtotellhimthatshedidnotknowwheretobegin.

"Wereyousorrynottoseeme?"

"ThedaysIhavenotseenyouaredead,andwipedoffthecalendar,"saidJim.

"Oh,beforeIforget,"saidEunice,"Mrs.Weatherwalehasgone."

"Mrs.Weatherwale!"herepeated,puzzled.

"Ihaven't toldyou?No,ofcoursenot.Ididnotseeyouyesterday.ButMrs.Groat askedme towrite toMrs.Weatherwale,who is anold friendofhers,askinghertocomeandstay.IthinkMrs.GroatisratherafraidofDigby."

"Andshecame?"askedJim.

Thegirlnodded.

"She came and stayed about one hour, then arrived my lord Digby, whobundledherunceremoniouslyintothestreet.Thereisnolovelostthere,either,Jim.Thedearoldladyhatedhim.Shewasacharmingoldsoulandcalledme

'darling.'"

"Whowouldn't?" said Jim. "I can call you darling even though I am not acharmingoldsoul.Goon.Soshewentaway?IwonderwhatsheknowsaboutDigby?"

"Sheknowseverything.SheknowsaboutEstremeda,of that Iamsure. Jim,doesn'tthatmakeadifference?"

Heshookhishead.

"IfyoumeandoesitmakeanydifferenceaboutDigbyinheritinghismother'smoneywhenshegets it, Icantellyouthat itmakesnone.ThewilldoesnotspecifythatheisthesonofJohnGroat,andthefactthathewasbornbeforeshemarriedthisunfortunateshippingclerkdoesnotaffecttheissue."

"WhenisthemoneytobemadeovertotheGroats?"

"NextThursday,"saidJim,withagroan,"andIamjustasfarfromstoppingthetransferofthepropertyasIhaveeverbeen."

HehadnottoldherofhismeetingwithLadyMaryDanton.Thatwasnothissecretalone.Norcouldhe tellher thatLadyMarywas thewomanwhohadwarnedher.

They strolledacross thePark towards theSerpentineand Jimwasunusuallypreoccupied.

"Doyouknow,Eunice, that Ihaveanuncannyfeeling thatyoureallyare insomewayassociatedwiththeDantonfortune?"

Shelaughedandclungtightertohisarm.

"Jim,youwouldmakemeQueenofEnglandifyoucould,"shesaid,"andyouhavejustasmuchchanceofraisingmetothethroneasyouhaveofprovingthatIamsomebodyelse'schild.Idon'twanttobeanybodyelse's,really,"shesaid."Iwasvery,veryfondofmymother,anditnearlybrokemyheartwhenshedied.Anddaddywasadarling."

Henodded.

"Ofcourse, it isafantastic idea,"hesaid,"andIamflyinginfaceofall thefacts.Ihavetakenthetroubletodiscoverwhereyouwereborn.IhaveafriendinCapeTownwhomadetheinquiriesforme."

"Eunice May Weldon," she laughed. "So you can abandon that idea, can'tyou?"shesaid.

StrollingalongbythesideoftheSerpentine,theyhadreachedthebridgenearthemagazine andwere standingwaiting until a car had passed before theycrossedtheroad.Somebodyinthecarraisedhishat.

"Whowasthat?"saidJim.

"DigbyGroat," she smiled, "mynearly lateemployer!Don't letusgo to thetea-shop,Jim,"shesaid;"letusgotoyourflat—I'dloveto."

Helookedatherdubiously.

"It is not customary for bachelors to give tea-parties to young females," hesaid.

"I'm sure it is"—she waved aside his objection. "I'm perfectly certain ithappenseveryday,onlytheydon'tspeakaboutit."

Theflatdelightedherandshetookoffhercoatandbusiedherselfinthelittlekitchenette.

"Youtoldmeitwasanatticwithbareboards,"shesaidreproachfullyasshewaslayingthecloth.

ToJim,stretchedinhisbigchair,shewasathingofsheerdelight.Hewantednomore than to sit for ever andwatchher flitting from room to room.Thesoundofher freshvoicewasadeliciousnarcotic,andevenwhenshecalledhim,asshedid,againandagain,toexplainsomecurioofhiswhichhunginthehall,thespellwasnotbroken.

"Everythingisspeckless,"shesaidasshebroughtinthetea,"andI'msureyouhaven'tpolishedupthosebrassesandcleanedthatchina."

"You're right first time," said Jim lazily. "Anunprepossessing ladycomes ineverymorningathalf-pastsevenandworksherfingerstothebone,asshehastold memore times than once, though she manages to keepmore flesh onthosebonesthanseemscomfortableforher."

"And there is your famous train," she said, jumping up and going to thewindow as an express whizzed down the declivity. "Oh, Jim, look at thoseboys,"shegaspedinhorror.

Across the lineandsupportedby twostoutpoles,oneofwhichstood in thecourtyardoftheflat,wasastretchofthintelegraphwires,andontheseasmallandadventurousurchinwaspullinghimselfacrosshand-over-hand,tothejoyofhiscompanionsseatedontheoppositewallofthecutting.

"Theyoungdevil,"saidJimadmiringly.

Anothertrainshriekedpast,andrunningdownintoEustontrainsmovedatagood speed. The telegraphwire had sagged under theweight of the boy tosuchanextentthathehadtoliftuphislegstoavoidtouchingthetopsofthecarriages.

"Ifthepolicecatchhim,"musedJim,"theywillfinehimasovereignandgivehimabirching.Inrealityheoughttobegivenamedal.Theselittlebeggarsarethe soldiers of the future, Eunice, and some day he will reproduce thatfearlessnessofdanger,andhewillearntheVictoriaCrossajollysightmorethanIearnedit."

Shelaughedanddroppedherheadagainsthisshoulder.

"You queer man," she said, and then returned to the contemplation of theyoungclimber,whohadnowreachedtheoppositewallamidsttheapprovingyellsandshoutsofhisdiminutivecomrades.

"Nowletusdrinkourtea,becauseImustgetback,"saidthegirl.

Thecupwastoherlipswhenthedooropenedandawomancamein.Eunicedidnotheartheturningofthehandle,andherfirstintimationofthestranger'spresencewastheword"Jim."Shelookedup.Thewomaninthedoorwaywas,by all standards, beautiful, she noticed with a pang. Age had not lined ormarredthebeautyofherfaceandthestrandsofgreyinherhairaddedtoherattraction.Foramomenttheylookedatoneanother,thewomanandthegirl,andthentheintruder,withanodandasmile,said:

"Iwillseeyouagain.Iamsorry,"andwentoutclosingthedoorbehindher.

The silence that followedwas painful. Jim started three times to speak, butstopped as he realized the futility of explaining to thegirl the reasonof thewoman'spresence.HecouldnottellhershewasLadyMaryDanton.

"Shecalledyou'Jim,'"saidthegirlslowly."Issheafriendofyours?"

"Er—yes,"herepliedawkwardly."SheisMrs.Fane,aneighbour."

"Mrs.Fane,"repeatedthegirl,"butyoutoldmeshewasparalysedandcouldnotgetup.Yousaidshehadneverbeenoutofdoorsforyears."

Jimswallowedsomething.

"Shecalledyou'Jim,'"saidthegirlagain."Areyouverygreatfriends?"

"Well,wearerather,"saidJimhuskily."Thefactis,Eunice—"

"How did she come in?" asked the girl with a frown. "She must have let

herselfinwithakey.Hassheakeyofyourflat?"

Jimgulped.

"Well,asamatteroffact—"hebegan.

"Hasshe,Jim?"

"Yes,shehas.Ican'texplain,Eunice,butyou'vegot—"

"Isee,"shesaidquietly."Sheisverypretty,isn'tshe?"

"Yes,sheisratherpretty,"admittedJimmiserably."Yousee,wehavebusinesstransactions together, and frequently I am out and she wants to get to mytelephone.Shehasnotelephoneinherownflat,yousee,Eunice,"hewentonlamely.

"Isee,"saidthegirl,"andshecallsyou'Jim'?"

"Becausewearegoodfriends,"hefloundered."Really,Eunice,Ihopeyouarenotputtinganymisconstructionuponthatincident."

Sheheavedalittlesigh.

"I suppose it isall right, Jim," she said,andpushedawayherplate. "Idon'tthink Iwillwait any longer.Pleasedon't comebackwithme, I'd ratheryoudidn't.Icangetacab;there'sarankoppositetheflat,Iremember."

Jim cursed the accident which had brought the lady into his room at thatmomentandcursedhimselfthathehadnotmadeacleanbreastofthewholething,evenattheriskofbetrayingLadyMary.

Hehaddonesufficientharmbyhisincoherentexplanationandheofferednootherashehelpedthegirlintohercoat.

"Youaresureyou'drathergoalone?"hesaidmiserably.

Shenodded.

Theywerestandingonthelanding.LadyMary'sfrontdoorwasajarandfromwithin came the shrill ringof a telephonebell.She raisedhergrave eyes toJim.

"Yourfriendhasthekeyofyourflatbecauseshehasnotelephoneofherown,didn'tyousay,Jim?"

Hemadenoreply.

"Ineverthoughtyouwouldlietome,"shesaid,andhewatchedherdisappeardownthestaircasewithanachingheart.

Hehadhardlyreachedhisroomandflunghimselfinhischairbythesideofthetea-table,whenLadyMaryfollowedhimintotheroom.

"I'msorry,"shesaid,"Ihadn'ttheslightestideashewouldbehere."

"It doesn'tmatter," said Jimwith awan smile, "only itmakes things ratherawkwardforme.Itoldheralieandshefoundmeout,orrather,yourinfernaltelephonedid,LadyMary."

"Thenyouwerestupid,"wasallthecomfortshegavehim.

"Whydidn'tyoustay?"heasked."Thatmadeitlooksoqueer."

"ThereweremanyreasonswhyIcouldn'tstay,"saidLadyMary."Jim,doyouremembertheinquiriesImadeaboutthisverygirl,EuniceWeldon,andwhichyoumadetoo?"

Henodded.

Hewasn'tinterestedinEuniceWeldon'sobviousparentageatthatmoment.

"YouremembershewasbornatRondebosch?"

"Yes,"hesaidlistlessly."Evensheadmitsit,"headdedwithafeebleattemptatajest.

"Does she admit this?" askedLadyMary. She pushed a telegramacross thetabletoJim,andhepickeditupandread:

"EuniceMayWeldon died in Cape Town at the age of twelve months andthreedays,andisburiedatRosebankCemetery.PlotNo.7963."

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

JIM read the cablegram again, scarcely believing his eyes or hisunderstanding,

"Buriedattheageoftwelvemonths,"hesaidincredulously,"buthowabsurd.Sheishere,alive,besideswhich,IrecentlymetamanwhoknewtheWeldonsandrememberedEuniceasachild.Thereisnoquestionofsubstitution."

"Itispuzzling,isn'tit?"saidLadyMarysoftly,assheputthetelegraminherbag."Buthereisaveryimportantfact.ThemanwhosentmethiscablegramisoneofthemostreliableprivatedetectivesinSouthAfrica."

EuniceWeldonwas born, EuniceWeldon had died, and yet EuniceWeldonwasverymuchaliveatthatmoment,thoughshewaswishingsheweredead.

Jimleanthiselbowonthetableandrestedhischinonhispalm.

"Imustconfess that Iamnowcompletely rattled,"hesaid. "Then if thegirldied, it isobvious theparentsadoptedanothergirland thatgirlwasEunice.The question is, where did she come from, because there was never anyquestionofheradoption,sofarassheknew."

Shenodded.

"Ihavealreadycabled tomyagent toaskhimto inquireon thisquestionofadoption,"shesaid,"andinthemeantimetheoldideaisgainingground,Jim."

Hiseyesmethers.

"YoumeanthatEuniceisyourdaughter?"

Shenoddedslowly.

"Thatcircularscaronherwrist?Youknownothingaboutit?"

Sheshookherhead.

"Itmayhavebeendoneafter"—shefaltered—"after—Ilostsightofher."

"LadyMary,willyouexplainhowyoucametolosesightofher?"askedJim.

Sheshookherhead.

"Notyet."shesaid.

"Thenperhapsyouwillansweranotherquestion.YouknowMrs.Groat?"

Shenodded.

"DoyouknowawomannamedWeatherwale?"

LadyMary'seyesopened.

"MaryWeatherwale,yes.Shewasafarmer'sdaughterwhowasveryfondofJane,anice,decentwoman.IoftenwonderedhowJanecametomakesuchafriend.Whydoyouask?"

Jim told her what had happened when Mrs. Weatherwale had arrived atGrosvenorSquare.

"Letusputasmanyofourcardsonthetableasarenottoostaletoexhibit,"shesaid."DoyoubelievethatJaneGroathadsomepartinthedisappearanceofmydaughter?"

"HonestlyIdo,"saidJim."Don'tyou?"

Sheshookherhead.

"I used to think so," she said quietly, "but when Imade inquiries, she wasexoneratedbeyondquestion.She is awickedwoman, aswickedas any thathaseverbeenborn,"shesaidwithasuddenfirethatsentthecolourflyingtoher face, "but she was not so wicked that she was responsible for littleDorothy'sfate."

"Youwillnottellmeanymoreabouther?"

Sheshookherhead.

"There is something you could say which might make my investigations alittleeasier,"saidJim.

"There is nothing I can say—yet," she said in a lowvoice, as she rose and,withoutawordoffarewell,glidedfromtheroom.

Jim'smindwasmade up. In the light of that extraordinary cablegram fromSouthAfrica,hismisunderstandingwithEunice faded into insignificance. IfshewereLadyMary'sdaughter!Hegaspedatthethoughtwhich,withall itsconsequences,cameasanewpossibility,even thoughhehadpondered it inhismind.

HefixeduponJaneGroatasonewhocouldsupplythekeyofthemystery,buteveryattempthehadmadetogettheparticularsofherpasthadbeenfrustratedbyignorance,ortheunwillingnessofallwhohadknownherinherearlydays.

There was little chance of seeing Septimus Salter in his office, so he wentroundtothegaragewherehehousedhislittlecar,andsetforthonavoyageofdiscoverytoChislehurst,whereMr.Salterlived.

Theoldgentlemanwasalone;hiswifeandhiseldestson,anofficer,whowasstaying with him, had gone to Harrogate, and he was more genial in hisreceptionthanJimhadarighttoexpect.

"You'llstaytodinner,ofcourse,"hesaid.

Jimshookhishead.

"No thankyou,sir, I'mfeelingratheranxious justnow. Icame toaskyou ifyouknewMrs.Weatherwale."

Thelawyerfrowned.

"Weatherwale,Weatherwale,"hemused,"yes,Irememberthename.Iseldomforgetaname.SheappearsinMrs.Groat'swill,Ithink,asalegateeforafewhundredpounds.HerfatherwasoneofoldDanton'stenants."

"That is thewoman," said Jim, and told his employer all that he had learntaboutMrs.Weatherwale'sill-fatedvisittoLondon.

"Itonlyshows,"saidthelawyerwhenhehadfinished,"howtheterrificsecretswhichwelawyersthinkarelockedawayinsteelboxesandstowedbelowthegroundinmustycellars,arethepropertyofTom,DickandHarry!Wemightas well save ourselves all the trouble. Estremeda is, of course, the SpanishMarquis who practically lived with the Dantons when Jane was a youngwoman.Heis,asobviously, thefatherofDigbyGroat,andtheresultof thiswoman'smadpassionfortheSpaniard.Iknewtherewassomesortofscandalattached tohername,but thisexplainswhyher fatherwouldneverspeak toher, andwhyhecutheroutofhiswill. I'mquite sure that JonathanDantonknewnothingwhateverabouthissister'sescapade,orhewouldnothaveleftherhismoney.HewasasstraitlacedasanyoftheDantons,but,thankstohisfather'sreticence,itwouldseemthatMrs.Groatisgoingtobenefit."

"Andtheson?"saidJim,andthelawyernodded.

"Shemayleavehermoneywhereshewishes—toanybody'sson,forthematterofthat,"saidthelawyer."Acariouscase,averycuriouscase"—heshookhisgreyhead."Whatdoyouintenddoing?"

"IamgoingdowntoSomersettoseeMrs.Weatherwale,"saidJim."Shemaygiveusastringwhichwillleadsomewhere."

"Ifshe'llgiveyouastringthatwillleadMr.DigbyGroattoprison,"growledtheoldlawyer,"getholdofit,Steele.andpulllikethedevil!"

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

WHENhis alarm dock turned him out at six in themorning, Jimwas bothsleepyandinclinedtobepessimistic.Butashismindclearedandherealized

whatresultstheday'sinvestigationsmightbring,hefacedhisjourneywithalighterheart.

Catchingtheseveno'clockfromPaddington,hereachedtheneareststationtoMrs.Weatherwale'sresidencesoonafternine.Hehadnottakenanybreakfast,andhedelayedhisjourneyforhalfanhour,whilstthehostessofasmallinnfacingthestationpreparedhimthemealwithoutwhichnoEnglishmancouldlive,asshehumorouslydescribedit,&dishofeggsandbacon.

ItseemedasthoughhewereinanotherworldtothatwhichhehadleftbehindatPaddington.Thetreeswerealittlegreener,thelushgrassesofthemeadowswere a more vivid emerald, and overhead in the blue sky, defying sight, askylark trilled passionately and was answered somewhere from the ground.Tinyfurryshapesintheirbrightspringcoatsdartedacrossthewhiteroadwayalmostunderhisfeet.Hecrossedacrumblingstonebridgeandpausedtolookdownintotheshallowracingstreamthatfoamedandbubbledandswirledonitswaytothedistantsea.

The oldmasonswho had dressed these powdery ashlars and laid themoss-green stones of the buttresses, were dead when burly Henry lorded it atWestminster.Thesestoneshadseentheepochspass,andthemaidenswhohadleant against theparapet listeningwithdowncast eyes to theiryoung swainshadbecomeoldwomenanddustandforgotten.

Jimheavedasighasheresumedhistrudge.Lifewouldnotbelongenoughforhim,ifEunice...ifI—

Heshookthethoughtfromhimandclimbedsteadilytohisdestination.

Hill Farmwas a small house standing in about three acres of land, devotedmainly tomarketgarden.TherewasnoMr.Weatherwale.Hehadbeendeadfortwelveyears,Jimlearntattheinn,buttheoldladyhadasonwhoassistedinthemanagementofthefarm.

Jimstrodeout towhatwastoproveapleasantwalkthroughthegloriesofaSomerset countryside, and he foundMrs.Weatherwale in the act of butter-making.Shehadapastureandadozencows,assheinformedhimlater.

"Idon'twanttotalkaboutJaneGroat,"shesaiddecisively,whenhebroachedthe object of his visit. "I'll never forgive that boy of hers for the trouble hegaveme,apartfromtheinsult.Igaveupmyworkandhadtohireawomantotakechargehereandlookaftertheboy—there'smyfaretoLondon—"

"I dare say all that could be arranged,Mrs.Weatherwale," said Jimwith alaugh."Mr.DigbyGroatwillcertainlyrepayyou."

"Areyouafriendofhis?"sheaskedsuspiciously,"becauseifyouare—"

"Iamnotafriendofhis,"saidJim."Onthecontrary,Idislikehimprobablyasmuchasyoudo."

"That is not possible," she said, "for I would as soon see the devil as thatyellow-facedmonkey."

Shewipedherhandsonherapronandledthewaytothesunnylittleparlour.

"Sityedown,Mr.What-you-may-call-it,"shesaidbriskly.

"Steele,"murmuredJim.

"Mr.Steele,isit?Justsitdownthere,willyou?"Sheindicatedawindow-seatcoveredwithbrightchintz."Nowtellmejustwhatyouwanttoknow."

"Iwant toknowsomethingabout JaneGroat'syouth,whowereher friends,andwhatyouknowaboutDigbyGroat?"

Mrs.Weatherwaleshookherhead.

"I can't tell youmuchabout that, sir," she said. "Her fatherwasoldDantonwhoownedKennettHall.Youcanseeitfromhere"—shepointedacrossthecountrytoagreymassofbuildingsthatshowedabovethehill-crest.

"Janefrequentlycameovertothefarm.Myfatherhadabiggeroneinthosedays. All Hollyhock Hill belonged to him, but he lost his money throughhorses, drat them!" she said good-humouredly, and apparently had noparticulargrievanceagainstthethoroughbredrace-horse.

"Andwegotquitefriendly.Itwasunusual,Iadmit,shebeingaladyofqualityandmebeingafarmer'sdaughter;butlord!I'vegotstacksoflettersfromher,orrather,Ihad.Iburntthemthismorning."

"You've burnt them?" said Jim in dismay. "I was hoping that I should findsomethingIwantedtoknowfromthose."

Sheshookherhead.

"There'snothingthereyouwouldfind,exceptalotofsillynonsenseaboutamanshefellinlovewith,aSpanishman."

"TheMarquisofEstremeda?"suggestedJim.

Sheclosedherlips.

"Maybeitwasandmaybeitwasn't,"shesaid."I'mnotgoingtoscandalizeat

my timeof life, and at her timeof life too.We've allmademistakes in ourtime, and I dare say you'll make yours, if you haven't made them already.Whichremindsme,Mr.—Idon'trememberyourname?"

"Steele,"saidJimpatiently.

"Well, that remindsme there's aduckof agirl in that house.HowJane canallow a beautiful creature like that to come into contact with a beast likeDigby,Idon'tknow.Butthatisallbytheway.No,Iburnttheletters,exceptafew.Ikeptoneortwotoprovethataboydoesn'tchangehischaracterwhenhegrowsup.Why,itmaybe,"shesaidthatgood-humouredly,"whenDigbyishangedthenewspaperreporterswouldliketoseethese,andtheywillbeworthmoneytome!"

Jimlaughed.Hergood-humourwasinfectious,andwhenafteranabsenceoffiveminutes she returned to the roomwith a small box coveredwith fadedgreenplush,heasked;"YouknownothingofDigbyGroat'srecentlife?"

Sheshookherhead.

"Ionlyknewhimasaboy,andawicked littledevilhewas, thesortofboywhowouldpullafly'swingsoffforthesportofit.Iusedtothinkthosestoriesaboutboyswerelies,butitwastrueabouthim.Doyouknowwhathischiefdelightwasasaboy?"

"No,Idon't,"smiledJim."Itwassomethingunpleasant,Iamsure."

"TocomeonaFridayafternoontoFannerJohnson'sandseethepigskilledformarket,"shesaidgrimly."That'sthesortofboyhewas."

She took out a bundle of faded letters and fixing her large steel- rimmedspectacles,readthemover.

"Here'sone,"shesaid;"thatwillshowyouthekindofkidhewas."

"I floggedDigby to-day.He tiedabunchofcrackers round thekitten'sneckandletthemoff.Thepoorlittlecreaturehadtobekilled."

"That'sDigby,"saidMrs.Weatherwale,lookingoverherglasses."Thereisn'taletterherewhichdoesn'tsaythatshehadtobeathimforsomethingorother,"shereadon,readinghalftoherself,andJimheardtheword"baby."

"Whatbabywasthat?"

Shelookedathim.

"Itwasn'therbaby,"shesaid.

"Butwhosewasit?"insistedJim.

"Itwasababyshewaslookingafter."

"Hersister-in-law's?"demandedJim.

Thewomannodded.

"Yes,LadyMaryDanton's,poorlittlesoul—hedidacruelthingtohertoo."

Jim dare not speak, and without encouragement Mrs. Weatherwale said:"Listentothis,ifyouwanttounderstandthekindoflittledevilDigbywas."

"I had to giveDigby a severe flogging to-day.Really, the child is naturallycruel.Whatdoyouimaginehedid?Hetookasixpence,heatedit in thefireandputitonthepoorbaby'swrist.Itleftacircularbum."

"GreatGod!"-saidJim,springingtohisfeet,hisfacewhite."Acircularburnontherest?"

Shelookedathiminastonishment.

"Yes,why?"

So thatwas the explanation, and theheiress to theDantonmillionswasnotDigbyGroatorhismother,butthegirlwhowascalledEuniceWeldon,or,astheworldwouldknowher,DorothyDanton!

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

EUNICEwasLadyMary's daughter! Therewas no doubt of it, no possibledoubt.Hisinstincthadprovedtoberight.HowhadshegottoSouthAfrica?Hehadyettofindasolutiontothemystery.

Mrs.Weatherwale'srosyfacewasapictureofastonishment.Foramomentshethoughthervisitorhadgonemad.

"WillyoureadthatpieceagainaboutDigbyGroatburningthebaby'swrist,"saidJimslowly,andafteratroubledglanceathim,shecomplied.

"Thelittlebabywaslostsoonafter,"sheexplained."Itwentoutwithanurse;oneofJane'sgirlstookitoutinaboat,andtheboatmusthavebeenrundownbysomeship."

AndthenalightdawneduponJim.

WhatshipspassedtotheeastoftheGoodwins(foritwasneartherethatthedisastermusthaveoccurred)on thedayof the tragedy?Hemust find it outimmediately and hemust take the letter from Jane to her friend in order toplaceitbeforeSeptimusSalter.Here,however,thewomandemurred,andJim,sittingdownagain,toldherplainlyandfranklyallhisfearsandsuspicions.

"What, that beautiful girl I saw in Jane's house?" saidMrs.Weatherwale inamazement."Youdon'ttellme!"

"Ido,"saidJim."Shehasthemarkonherwrist,aburn,andnowIremember!Mrs.Groatknowssheis thedaughterofLadyMary, too!Itwasthesightofthatscarwhichbroughtaboutherstroke."

"Idon'twantanyharmtohappentoJane,shehasn'tbeenabadfriendofmine,but it seems tome only justice to the young lady that she should have theletter.Asamatteroffact,Inearlyburntit."

"ThankGodyoudidn't,"saidJimfervently.

HecarriedhisprizebackbythefirsttrainthatleftforLondonanddashedintoSalter'sofficewithhisnews.

"Ifyourtheoryiscorrect."saidtheoldmanwhenhehadfinished."thereoughtnot to be any difficulty in discovering the link between the child'sdisappearance and her remarkable appearance in Cape Town as EuniceWeldon.WehavehadconfirmationfromSouthAfricathatEuniceWeldondiddie at this tender age, so, therefore, your Eunice cannot be the same girl. Ishouldadviseyoutogetbusybecausethedayafterto-morrowIhandovertheDantonestatetoMrs.Groat'snewlawyers,andfromwhatIcanseeofthings,"saidMr.Salter grimly, "it isDigbyGroat's intention to sell immediately thewholeoftheDantonproperty."

"Doesthatamounttomuch?"

"Itrepresentsmorethanthree-quartersoftheestate,"saidthelawyertoJim'ssurprise. "TheLakesideproperties areworth fourhundred thousandpounds,they include about twenty-four homesteads and six fairly big farms. Yourememberhecameheresometimeagotoquestionusastowhetherhehadtherightofsale.IhadatalkwithBennetts—theyarehisnewsolicitors—onlythismorning," Mr. Salter went on stroking his big chin thoughtfully, "and it isprettyclear thatDigby intendssellingout.HeshowedBennett thePowerofAttorneywhichhismothergavehimthismorning."

The lawyer was faithfully interpreting Digby Groat's intentions. The will

whichEunicehadfoundhadshockedhim.Hewasdeterminedthatheshouldnotbeatthemercyofacapriciousoldwomanwhoheknewdislikedhimasintensely as he hated her, and he had induced his mother to change herlawyers,notsomuchbecausehehadanyprejudiceagainstSalter,butbecausehe needed a new solicitor who would carry through the instructions whichSalterwouldquestion.

DigbywasdeterminedtoturnthelandsandrevenuesoftheDantonEstateintosolidcash—cashwhichhecouldhandle,andonceitwasinhisbankhewouldbreathemorefreely.

Thatwasthesecretofhisbusinessinthecity,theformationofasyndicatetotakeovertheDantonpropertiesonacashbasis,andhehadsowellsucceededininterestingseveralwealthyfinanciersinthescheme,thatitwantedbutthestrokeofapentocompletethedeal.

"Aren't there sufficient factsnow,"askedJim, "toprove thatEunice isLadyMary'sdaughter?"

Saltershookhishead.

"No,"hesaid,"youmustgetacloserconnectionofevidence.ButasIsay,itshouldnotbeverydifficult foryou todo that.Youknow thedate the childdisappeared. Itwason the2ist June,1901.TorefreshyourmemoryIwouldremarkthatitwasinthatyeartheBoarWarwasbeingfoughtout."

Jim's first callwas at theUnionAfrican SteamshipCompany, and hemadethatjustwhentheofficewasclosing.

Fortunatelytheassistantmanagerwasthere,tookhimintotheofficeandmadeasearchofhisrecords.

"NoneofourshipsleftLondonRiveronthe20thor21stJune,"hesaid,"and,anyway, only our intermediate boats sail from there. Themail steamers sailfromSouthampton.ThelastshiptopassSouthamptonwastheCentralCastle.Shewas carrying troops to SouthAfrica and she called at Plymouth on the20th,soshemusthavepassedMargatethreedaysbefore."

"WhatotherlinesofsteamersruntoSouthAfrica?"

Themanagergavehimalist,anditwasalongeronethanJimhadexpected.

HehurriedhometobreakthenewstoLadyMary,butshewasout.Hermaid,themysteriousMadgeBenson,saidshehadleftanddidnotexpecttobebackfor two or three days, and Jim remembered that LadyMary had talked ofgoingtoParis.

"DoyouknowwhereshewouldstayinParis?"

"I don't even know she's gone to Paris, sir," said the woman with a smile."LadyMarynevertellsmeherplans."

Jimgroaned.

Therewasnothingtodobutwaituntilto-morrowandpursuehisinquiries.InthemeantimeitwasgrowinguponhimthatEuniceandhewerebadfriends.He smiled to himself. What would she say when she discovered that thewomanwho called him "Jim"was hermother!Hemust possess his soul inpatienceforanothertwenty-fourhours.

Suddenlya thought came tohim,a thoughtwhich struck the smile fromhislips.EuniceWeldonmightforgivehimandmightmarryhimandchangethedrab roadway of life to a path of flowers, but Dorothy Danton was a richwoman,wealthybeyondherdreams,andJimSteelewasapoorman.Hesatbackinhischairtoconsiderthatdisquietingrevelation.HecouldnevermarrythegirlEunicenow,hethought;itwouldnotbefairtoher,ortohim.Supposesheneverknew!Hesmiledcontemptuouslyatthethought.

"Gettheebehindme,Satan."hesaidtothelittledogthatcrouchedathisfeet,watchinghimwitheyesthatneverlefthisface.Hebentdownandpattedthemongrel, who turned on his back with uplifted paws. "You and I have noparticularreasontoloveDigbyGroat,oldfellow,"hesaid,forthiswasthedoghehad rescued fromDigby'sdissecting table, "and ifheharmsahairofherhead,hewillbesorryhewaseverborn."

He began his search in themorning, almost as soon as the shipping officesopened.Onebyone theyblastedhishopes, andhe scarcelydaredmakehislastcallwhichwasattheofficeoftheAfricanCoastwiseLine.

"AndIdon'tthinkitismuchusegoingtothem,"saidtheclerkatthelastbutoneofhiscalls."Theydon'tsailfromLondon,theyareaLiverpoolfirm,andalltheirpacketssaildirectfromtheMersey.Idon'tthinkwehaveeverhadaCoastwise boat in the London docks. I happen to know," he explained,"becauseIwasintheCustomsbeforeIcametothisfirm."

TheCoastwiseLinewasanold-fashionedfirmandoccupiedanold-fashionedoffice in a part of London which seemed to be untouched by the passingimprovements of the age. It was one of those firms which have neversuccumbedtotheblandishmentsoftheCompanyPromoter,andthetwoseniorpartners of the firm, old gentlemen who had the appearance of beingdignitariesoftheChurch,wereseatedoneithersideofabigpartner'stable.

Jimwasreceivedwithold-worldcourtesyandachairwasplacedforhimbyaporteralmostasancientastheproprietorsoftheAfricanCoastwiseLine.

Boththegentlemenlistenedtohisrequirementsinsilence.

"Idon'tthinkwehaveeverhadashippassthroughtheStraitsofDover,"saidone,shakinghishead."WewereoriginallyaLiverpoolfirm,and thoughtheofficeshavealwaysbeeninLondon,Liverpoolisourheadquarters."

"AndAvonmouth,"murmuredhispartner.

"And Avonmouth, of course," the elder of the two acknowledged thecorrectionwithaslightinclinationofhishead.

"ThenthereisnoreasonwhyIshouldtroubleyou,gentlemen,"saidJimwithaheavyheart.

"Itisnotrouble,Iassureyou,"saidthepartner,"buttomakeabsolutelysurewewillgetoursailingsfor—June,1901,Ithinkyousaid?"

Herangabell,and to themiddle-agedclerk,who lookedsoyoung, thoughtJim,thathemustbetheoffice-boy,hemadehisrequestknown.Presentlytheclerk came back with a big ledger which he laid on the partners' desk. Hewatched the gentleman as hiswell-manicured finger ran carefully down thepagesandsuddenlystopped.

"Why, of course," he said, looking up, "do you remember we took over aUnionAfricantripwhentheywerehardpressedwithtransportwork?"

"To be sure," said his partner. "Itwas theBattledorewe sent out, shewentfromTilbury.TheonlyshipofoursthathaseversailedfromThamesRiver."

"Whatdatediditsail?"askedJimeagerly.

"It sailed with the tide, which was apparently about eight o'clock in themorningofthe21stJune.Letmesee,"saidthepartner,risingandgoingtoabigchartthathungonthewall,"thatwouldbringheruptotheNorthForelandLightatabouttwelveo'clock.Whattimedidtheaccidentoccur?"

"Atnoon,"saidJimhuskily,andthepartnerslookedatoneanother.

"Idon'trememberanythingpeculiarbeingreportedonthatvoyage,"saidtheseniorslowly.

"You were in Switzerland at the time," said the other, "and so was I. Mr.Mansarwasincharge."

"IsMr.Mansarhere?"askedJimeagerly.

"Heisdead,"saidthepartnergently."Yes,poorMr.Mansarisdead.Hediedatacomparativelyearlyageofsixty-three,averyamiableman,whoplayedthepianoremarkablywell."

"Theviolin,"murmuredhispartner.

Jimwas not interested in themusical accomplishments of the deceasedMr.Mansar.

"Istherenowayoffindingoutwhathappenedonthatvoyage?"

Itwasthesecondofthepartnerswhospoke.

"WecanproducethelogbookoftheBattledore."

"I hope we can," corrected the other. "The Battledore was sunk during theGreat War, torpedoed off the Needles, but Captain Pinnings, who was incommandofheratthetime,isaliveandhearty."

"Andhislogbook?"askedJim.

"Thatwemustinvestigate.WekeepalllogbooksattheLiverpooloffice,andIwillwriteto-nighttoaskourmanagingclerktosendthebookdown,ifitisinhispossession."

"Thisisveryurgent,"saidJimearnestly."YouhavebeensokindthatIwouldnotpressyou if itwerenotamatterof thegreatest importance.Would itbepossibleformetogotoLiverpoolandseethelog?"

"IthinkIcansaveyouthattrouble,"saidtheelderofthetwo,whosenamesJimneverknew."Mr.HarryiscomingdowntoLondonto-morrow,isn'the?"

Hisfriendnodded.

"Well,hecanbring thebook, if itexists. Iwill tell theclerk to telephone toLiverpool to thateffect,"andwith thisJimhad tocontenthimself, though itmeantanothertwenty-fourhours'delay.

Hereportedprogresstothelawyer,whenhedetermineduponmakingaboldmove.HisfirstbusinesswastheprotectionofEunice,andalthoughhedidnotimaginethatanyimmediatedangerthreatenedher,shemustbegotoutof409,GrosvenorSquare,attheearliestopportunity.

IfLadyMarywereonlyinLondon,howsimpleitwouldbe!Asitwas,hehadneithertheauthoritytocommandnortheinfluencetorequest.

He drove up to 409, Grosvenor Square, and was immediately shown intoDigbyGroat'sstudy.

"How do you do,Mr. Steele," said that bland gentleman. "Take a seat,willyou?Itismuchmorecomfortablethanhidingunderthetable,"headded,andJimsmiled.

"Now,whatcanIdoforyou?"

"IwanttoseeMissWeldon,"saidJim.

"Ibelievetheladyisout;butIwillinquire."

Herangthebellandimmediatelyaservantansweredthesummons.

"WillyouaskMissWeldontostepdownhere?"

"ItisnotnecessarythatIshouldseeherhere,"saidJim.

"Don'tworry,"smiledDigby."Iwillmakemyexitatthepropermoment."

Themaidreturned,however,withthenewsthattheladyhadgoneout.

"Very well," said Jim, taking up his hat, and with a smile as bland as hisunwillinghost's,"Iwillwaitoutsideuntilshecomesin."

"Admirablepersistence!"murmuredDigby."PerhapsIcanfindher."

HewentoutandreturnedagaininafewminuteswithEunice.

"Themaidwasquitemisinformed,"hesaidurbanely."MissWeldonhadnotgoneout."

He favouredherwitha littlebowand left the room,dosing thedoorbehindhim.

Eunice stood with her hands behind her, looking at the man on whom herhopesand thoughtshadcentred,andaboutwhoseconductsuchastormwasstillraginginherbosom.

"Youwanttoseeme,Mr.Steele?"

Her attitude shook his self-possession and drove from his mind all thecarefullyreasonedargumentshehadprepared.

"Iwantyoutoleavethishouse,Eunice,"hesaid.

"Haveyouanewreason?"sheasked,thoughshehatedherselfforthesarcasm.

"Ihavethebestofreasons,"hesaiddoggedly."IamsatisfiedthatyouarethedaughterofLadyMaryDanton."

Againshesmiled.

"Ithinkyou'veusedthatargumentbefore,haven'tyou?"

"Listen, Eunice, I beg of you," he pleaded. "I can prove that you are LadyMary'sdaughter.ThatscaronyourwristwasmadebyDigbyGroatwhenyouwereababy.AndthereisnoEuniceWeldon.WehaveprovedthatshediedinCapeTownayearafteryouwereborn."

Sheregardedhimsteadily,andhisheartsank.

"Thatisveryromantic,"shesaid,"andhaveyouanythingfurthertosay?"

"Nothing,excepttheladyyousawinmyroomwasyourmother."

Hereyesopenedwiderandthenhesawalittlesmilecomeandgolikearayofwintersunshineonherlips.

"Really, Jim," she said, "you shouldwrite stories. And if it interests you, ImighttellyouthatIamleavingthishouseinafewdays.Iamgoingbacktomyoldemployment.Idon'twantyoutoexplainwhothewomanwaswhohasthemisfortunetobewithoutatelephoneandthegoodfortunetohavethekeyofyourflat,"shesaid,herangerswampingthepityshehadforhim."IonlywanttotellyouthatyouhaveshakenmyfaithinmenmorethanDigbyGroatoranyothermancouldhavedone.Youhavehurtmebeyondforgiveness."

Foramomenthervoicequivered,and thenwithaneffortofwill shepulledherself togetherandwalked to thedoor. "Good-bye, Jim," shesaid,andwasgone.

Hestoodas shehad lefthim, stunned,unable tobelievehis ears.Her scornstruck him like a whip, the injustice of her view of him deprived him ofspeech.

For a second ablindingwaveof anger drownedall other emotions, but thispassed.Hecouldhavegonenow, for therewasnohopeof seeingheragainandexplainingevenifhehadbeenwillingtoofferanyexplanation.

But he stayed on. He was anxious to meet Digby Groat and find from hisattitudewhatparthehadplayedinformingthegirl'smind.Thehumourofthesituationstruckhimandhelaughed,thoughhislaughterwasfilteredthroughapainthatwassonearlyphysicalthathecouldnotdistinguishtheonefromtheother.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

THEendwascoming.DigbyGroattooktoosaneaviewofthingstomistakethesigns.

FortwoyearshehadbeeninnegotiationwithalandagentinSanPauloandhadpracticallycompletedthepurchaseofanestate.Bysubterraneanmethodshe had skilfully disguised the identity of the purchaser, and on thatmagnificent ranch he intended to spend a not unpleasant life. It might notcome to a question of flight, inwhich case the ranchwould be a diversionfrom the humdrum life ofEngland.Andmore than everwas he determinedthatEuniceWeldonshouldaccompanyhim,andshare,atanyrate,ayearofhislife.Afterwards—heshruggedhisshoulders.Womenhadcomeintohislifebefore,hadatfirstfascinated,andthenboredhim,andhaddisappearedfromhis ken. Probably Eunice would go the same way, though he could notcontemplatethepossibilityatthemoment.

The hours of themorning passed all too slowly for JimSteele. The partnerbrothers had said that their "Mr. Harry" would arrive at one o'clock, andpunctuallyatthathourJimwaswaitingintheouteroffice.

Mr.Harry's train, however,must havebeen late. Itwasnearer twowhenhecamein,followedbyaportercarryingathickparcelunderhisarm.Presentlytheportercameout."Willyougoin,sir,"hesaidrespectfully,andJimsteppedquicklyintotheroom.

Mr.Harry,whomhehad thoughtofasaboy,wasagravemanof fifty, andapparentlytheyoungerbrotheroftheeldestpartner.

"Wehave found the logof theBattledore," said that gentleman, "but I haveforgottenthedate."

"June21st,"saidJim.

Theloglayopenuponthebigtable,anditspresencebroughtanatmosphereofromanceintothisquietorderlyoffice.

"Herewe are," said the partner. "Battledore left Tilbury 9 a.m. on the tide.Windeastbysouth-east,seasmooth,hazy."Heranhisfingersdown."ThisiswhatIthinkyouwant."

For Jim it was a moment of intense drama. The partner was reading some

preliminary and suddenly he came to the entry which was to make all thedifferenceintheworldtothewomanwhomJimloveddearerthanlife.

"'Heavyfog,speedreducedat11.50tohalf.Reducedtoquarterspeedat12.1.Bosunreportedthatwehadrundownsmallrowingboatandthathehadseentwo persons in the water. Able seaman Grant went overboard and rescuedchild. The second person was not found. Speed increased, endeavoured tospeakDungeness,butweathertoohazyforflagsignals'—thiswasbeforethedaysofwireless,youmustunderstand,Mr.Steele."Jimnodded.

"'Sex of child discovered, girl, apparent age a fewmonths.Child handed tostewardess.'"

Entryfollowedentry,but therewasnofurtherreference to thechilduntilhecametoFunchal.

"In the islandofMadeira,"heexplained. "'ArrivedFunchal6a.m.ReportedrecoveryofchildtoBritishConsul,whosaidhewouldcabletoLondon.'"

Thenextentrywas:"Dakka—aportontheWestCoastofAfricaandFrenchprotectorate," said the partner. "'Received cable from British Consul atFunchalsayingnolossofchildreportedtoLondonpolice.'"

TherewasnootherentrywhichaffectedJimuntiloneonthethirddaybeforetheshiparrivedatCapeTown.

"'Mr.Weldon, aCapeTown residentwho is travellingwith hiswife for herhealth, has offered to adopt the child picked up by us on June 2ist, havingrecently lost one of his own.Mr.Weldon being known to the Captain andvouchedforbyCanonJesson'—thiswasapparentlyafellow-passengerofhis,"explainedthepartner—"'thechildwashandedtohiscare,onconditionthatthematterwasreportedtotheauthoritiesinCapeTown.'"

Afulldescriptionofthesize,weight,andcolouringofthelittlewaiffollowed,andagainstthequery"MarksonBody"werethewords"Scaronrightwrist,doctorthinkstheresultofarecentburn."

Jimdrewalongsigh.

"I cannot tell you gentlemen how grateful I am to you.You have righted agreatwrongandhaveearnedthegratitudeofthechildwhoisnowawoman."

"Doyouthinkthatthisistheyounglady?"

Jimnodded.

"Iamsure,"hesaidquietly."ThelogofCaptainPinningssuppliesthemissing

linkofevidence.Wemayhavetoaskyoutoproducethis logincourt,butIhopethattheclaimofourclientwillnotbedisputed."

HewalkeddownThreadneedleStreet,treadingonair,andthefactthatwhilehe had gained for Eunice—her name was Dorothy now, but she would bealwaysEunicetohim—afortune,hehadlostthegreatestfortunethatcouldbebestoweduponaman,didnotdisturbhisjoy.

Hehadmadea roughcopyof the log,andwith this inhishandhedrove toSeptimusSalter'sofficeandwithoutawordlaidtheextractsbeforehim.

Mr.Salterread,andashereadhiseyeslitup.

"Thewholethingisremarkablyclear,"hesaid;"thelogprovestheidentityofLadyMary'sdaughter.Yourinvestigationsarepracticallycomplete?"

"Notyet,sir,"smiledJim."WehavefirsttodisplaceJaneGroatandherson,"hehesitated,"andwemustpersuadeMissDantontoleavethathouse."

"In thatcase," said the lawyer, rising, "I thinkanolderman'sadvicewillbemoreacceptablethanyours,myboy,andI'llgowithyou."

Anewservantopenedthedoor,andalmostatthesoundoftheknock,Digbycameoutofhisstudy,urbaneandasperfectlygroomedasusual.

"IwanttoseeMissWeldon,"saidthelawyer,andDigbystiffenedatthesightofhim.HewouldhavefeltmoreuncomfortableifhehadknownwhatwasinSalter'smind.

Digbywaslookingathimstraightly;hiswholeattitude,thoughtJim,wasoneoftenseanxiety.

"IamsorryyoucannotseeMissWeldon,"hesaid,speakingslowly."Sheleftwithmymother by an earlyContinental train and at thismoment, I shouldimagine,issomewhereintheregionofParis."

"Thatisadamnedlie!"saidJimSteelecalmly.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

THEYstoodconfrontingoneanother,twomenwithmurderintheirhearts.

"Itisalie!"repeatedJim."MissWeldoniseitherhereorshehasbeentakentothathellhouseofyoursinSomerset!"

ForthetimebeingDigbyGroatwaslessconcernedbyJim'svehementinsultthanhewasbythepresenceofthelawyer.

"Soyoulendyourselftothisblackguardlyoutrage,"hesneered."Ishouldhavethought amanof your experiencewouldhave refused tohavebeenmade adupeof by this fellow.Anyway," he turned to Jim, "MissWeldonwants nomore todowithyou.Shehas toldmeabout that quarrel, and really,Steele,youhavebehavedverybadly."

Themanwas lying. Jimdidnot think twiceabout that.Eunicewouldneverhavemadeaconfidantofhim.

"WhatisyourinterestinMissWeldon?"askedDigby,addressingthelawyer.

"Outsideofahumaninterest,none,"saidoldSalter,andJimwasstaggered.

"But—"hebegan.

"I think we had better go, Steele," Salter interrupted him with a warningglance.

TheyweresomedistancefromthehousebeforeJimspoke.

"Butwhy didn't you tell him,Mr. Salter, thatEunicewas the heiress of theDantonfortune?"

Salterlookedathimwithanoddqueerexpressioninhisbrightblueeyes.

"Supposeallyoufearhashappened,"hesaidgently."Supposethismanisthevillainthatwebothbelieveheis,andthegirlisinhispower.Whatwouldbe,the consequenceofmy tellinghim thatEuniceWeldonwas in a position tostriphimofeverypennyhepossesses,toturnhimoutofhishouseandreducehimtopenury?"

Jimbithislip.

"I'msorry,sir."hesaidhumbly."I'manimpetuousfool."

"SolongasDigbyGroatdoesnotknowthatEunicethreatenshispositionsheiscomparativelysafe.Atanyrate,her life issafe.Oncewelethimlearnallthatweknow,sheisdoomed."

Jimnodded.'"Doyouthink,then,thatsheisinrealdanger?"heasked.

"IamcertainthatMr.DigbyGroatwouldnothesitate 'atmurdertoservehisends,"saidthelawyergruffly.

TheydidnotspeakagainuntiltheywereintheofficeinMarlboroughStreet,

andthenJimthrewhimselfdowninachairwithagroanandcoveredhisfacewithhishands.

"It seems as if we are powerless," he said bitterly, and then, looking up,"Surely,Mr.Salter,thelawisgreaterthanDigbyGroat.Aretherenoprocesseswe can set inmotion to pull him down?" Itwas very seldom old SeptimusSalter smoked in his office, but this was an occasion for an extraordinaryhappening.Hetookfromacabinetanoldmeerschaumpipeandpolishingitonthesleeveofhisbroad-clothcoat,slowlyfilledit,packingdownthestragglingstrandsoftobaccowhichoverflowedthepipe,withexasperatingcalmness.

"The law, my boy, is greater than Digby Groat, and greater than you or I.Sometimes ignorantpeople laughat it, sometimes they sneer at it, generallythey curse it. But there it is, the old dilatorymachinery, grinding slow andgrindingexceedinglysmall.Itisnotconfinedtotheissueofsearchwarrants,ofarrestandjudgments.Ithasathousandweaponstostrikeat thecheatandthe villain, and, by God, every one of those weapons shall be employedagainstDigbyGroat!"

Jimsprangtohisfeetandgrippedtheoldman'shand."Andifthelawcannottouchhim,"hesaid,"Iwillmakealawofthesetwohandsandstranglethelifeoutofhim."

Mr.Salter lookedathimadmiringly,buta littleamused."Inwhichcase,mydear Steele," he said dryly, "the law will take you in her two hands andstranglethelifeoutofyou,anditdoesn'tseemworthwhile,whenafewlittlepiecesofpaperwillprobablybringaboutaseffectivea resultasyourwilfulmurderofthisdamnablescoundrel."

Immediately Jimbeganhis inquiries.Tohis surprisehe learnt that thepartyhad actually been driven toVictoria Station. It consisted of Eunice and oldMrs.Groat.Moreover,twoticketsforParishadbeentakenbyDigbyandtwoseatsreservedinthePullman.ItwasthroughthesePullmanreservationsthatthenamesofEuniceand theoldwomanwereeasy to trace,asDigbyGroatintendedtheyshouldbe.

Whethertheyhadleftbythetrain,hecouldnotdiscover.

Hereturnedtothelawyerandreportedprogress.

"The fact that Jane Groat has gone does not prove that our client has alsogone,"saidthelawyersensibly.

"Ourclient?"saidJim,puzzled.

"Ourclient,"repeatedSeptimusSalterwithasmile."DonotforgetthatMiss

Danton is our client, and until she authorizes me to hand her interestselsewhere—"

"Mr. Salter," interrupted Jim, "when was the Danton estate handed over toBennetts?"

"This morning," was the staggering reply, though Mr. Salter did not seemparticularlydepressed.

"Goodheavens,"gaspedJim,"thentheestateisinDigbyGroat'shands?"

Thelawyernodded.

"Forawhile,"hesaid,"butdon'tletthatworryyouatall.Yougetalongwithyoursearch.HaveyouheardfromLadyMary?"

"Who,sir?"saidJim,againstaggered.

"LadyMaryDanton,"saidthelawyer,enjoyinghissurprise."Yourmysteriouswomaninblack.ObviouslyitwasLadyMary.Ineverbadanydoubtofit,butwhenI learntabout theBlueHand,Iwascertain.Yousee,myboy,"hesaidwithatwinkleinhiseyes,"Ihavebeenmakingafewinquiriesinadirectionwhichyouhaveneglected."

"WhatdoestheBlueHandmean?"askedJim.

"LadyMarywilltellyouoneofthesedays,anduntilshedoes,Idonotfeelatliberty to take you into my confidence. Have you ever been to a dyer's,Steele?"

"Adyer's,sir;yes,I'vebeentoadye-works,ifthatiswhatyoumean."

"Haveyoueverseenthehandsofthewomenwhouseindigo?"

"Doyou suggest thatwhen shedisappeared shewent to a dye-works?" saidJimincredulously.

"Shewilltellyou,"repliedthelawyer,andwiththathehadtobecontent.

Theworkwasnowtooseriousandthestringsweretoowidelydistributedtocarry on alone. Salter enlisted the services of two ex- officers of theMetropolitan Police who had established a detective agency, and at aconferencethatafternoonthewholeofthestory,asfarasitwasknown,wasrevealedtoJim'snewhelpers,ex-InspectorHolderandex-SergeantField.

That afternoonDigby Groat, looking impatiently out of the window, saw abeardedmanstrollingcasuallyalongthegardensideof thesquare,apipein

his mouth, apparently absorbed in the contemplation of nature and thearchitecturalbeautyofGrosvenorSquare.Hedidnotpayasmuchattentiontotheloungerashemighthavedone,hadnothisscrutinybeeninterruptedbythearrival of Mr. Bennett, an angular, sandy-haired Scotsman, who was notparticularlyenamouredofhisnewemployer.

"Well,Mr.Bennett,hasoldSalterhandedoverallthedocuments?"

"Yes,sir,"saidBennett,"everyone."

"Youaresurehehasnotbeenuptoanytrickery?"

Mr.Bennettregardedhimcoldly.

"Mr.SeptimusSalter,sir,"hesaidquietly,"isaneminentlawyer,whosenameis respected wherever it is mentioned. Great lawyers do not indulge intrickery."

"Well, you needn't get offended. Good Lord, you don't suppose he feelsfriendlytowardsyou,doyou?"

"What he feels to me, sir," said Mr. Bennett, his strong northern accentbetraying his annoyance, "is amatter of complete indifference. It is what Ithinkofhimthatwearediscussing.TheleasesoftheLakesidePropertyhavebeenpreparedfortransfer.Youarenotlosingmuchtime,Mr.Groat."

"No," saidDigby, after amoment's thought. "The fact is, the people in thesyndicate which is purchasing this property are very anxious to takepossession.Whatistheearliestyoucantransfer?"

"To-morrow,"wasthereply."Isuppose"—hehesitated—"Isupposethereisnoquestionof theoriginal heiressof thewill—DorothyDanton, I thinkhernameis—turningupunexpectedlyatthelastmoment?"

Digbysmiled.

"DorothyDanton, as you call her, hasbeen food for the fishes these twentyyears,"hesaid."Don'tyouworryyourheadabouther."

"Verygood,"saidBennett,producinganumberofpapersfromablackleatherportfolio."Yoursignaturewillberequiredonfourofthese,andthesignatureofyourmotheronthefifth."

Digbyfrowned.

"Mymother? I thought it was unnecessary that she should sign anything. IhaveherPowerofAttorney."

"Unfortunately the Power of Attorney is not sufficiently comprehensive toallowyoutosignawaycertainroyaltyrightswhichdescendedtoherthroughherfather.Theyarenotveryvaluable,"saidthelawyer,"buttheygiveherlienupon Kennett Hall, and in these circumstances, I think you had better notdependuponthePowerofAttorneyincasethereisanydispute.Mr.Salterisaveryshrewdman,andwhentheparticularsof this transactionarebrought tohis notice, I think it is very likely that, feeling his responsibility as Mr.Danton'slatelawyer,hewillenteracaveat."

"Whatisacaveat?"

"Literally," said Mr. Bennett, "a caveat emptor means 'let the purchaserbeware,'andifacaveatisentered,yoursyndicatewouldnotdaretaketheriskofpayingyoufortheproperty,eventhoughthecaveathadnoeffectupontheestatewhichweretransferredbyvirtueofyourPowerofAttorney."

Digbytuggedathislittlemoustacheandstaredoutofthewindowforalongtime.

"Allright,I'llgethersignature."

"SheisinParis,Iunderstand."

Digbyshotaquickglanceathim.

"Howdoyouknow?"heasked.

"IhadtocallatMr.Salter'sofficeto-day,"hesaid,"toverifyandagreetothelist of securities which he handed me, and he mentioned the matter inpassing."

Digbygrowledsomethingunderhisbreath.

"IsitnecessarythatyoushouldseeSalteratall?"heaskedwithasperity.

"ItisnecessarythatIshouldconductmyownbusinessinmyownway,"saidMr.Bennettwiththatacidsmileofhis.

Digbyshotanangryglanceathimandresolvedthatassoonas thebusinesswascompleted,hewouldhave littleuse for thisuncompromisingScotsman.Hehatedthelawandhehatedlawyers,andhehadbeenundertheimpressionthatMessrs. Bennett would be so overwhelmedwith joy at the prospect ofadministeringhisestatethattheywouldagreetoanysuggestionhemade.Hehadyettolearnthatthecomplacentlawyerisafigureoffiction,andifheisfoundatall,itisinthecharacteroftheseedybroken-downoldsolicitorwhohangsaboutPoliceCourtsandwhointerviewshisclientsinthebarparlourof

thenearestpublic-house.

"Verygood,"hesaid,"givemethepaper.Iwillgethertosignit."

"WillyougotoParis?"

"Yes,"saidDigby."I'llsenditacrossby—er—aeroplane."

Thelawyergatheredupthepapersandthrustthembackintothewallet.

"ThenIwillseeyouattwelveo'clockto-morrowattheofficeoftheNorthernLandSyndicate."

Digbynodded.

"Oh,bytheway,Bennett"—hecalledthelawyerback—"Iwishyoutoputthishouseinthemarket.IshallbespendingagreatdealofmytimeabroadandIhavenouseforthiscostlyproperty.Iwantaquicksale,bytheway."

"Aquicksaleisabadsalefortheseller,"quoththelawyer,"butI'lldowhatIcanforyou,Mr.Groat.Doyouwanttodisposeofthefurniture?"

Digbynodded.

"Andyouhaveanotherhouseinthecountry?"

"Thatisnotforsale,"saidDigbyshortly.

When the lawyer hadgonehewent up to his roomand changed, takinghistimeoverhistoilet.

"Now,"hesaidashedrewonhisgloveswithaquietsmile,"IhavetoinduceEunicetobeagoodgirl!"

CHAPTERTHIRTY

DIGBYGROATmadeanunexpectedjourneytowest.Agoodgeneral,eveninthe hour of his victory, prepares the way for retreat, and the possibility ofKennett Hall had long appealed to Digby as a likely refuge in a case ofemergency.

KennettHallwas one of the propertieswhich hismother had inherited andwhich,owingtohisfailuretosecurehersignature,hadnotbeenpreparedfortransfertothelandsyndicate.IthadbeenthehomeoftheDantonfamilyfor

140years.Arambling,neglectedhouse,standinginabigandgloomypark,ithadbeenuntenantedalmostaslongasDigbycouldremember.

Hehad senthis cardown in theearlymorning,buthehimselfhadgonebytrain.Hedisliked longmotor journeys,andthoughhe intendedcomingbackbyroad,hepreferredthequietudeandsmoothprogressofthemorningrailwayjourney.

Thecar,coveredwithdust,waswaitingforhimattherailwaystation,andthefewofficialswhoconstitutedthestationstaffwatchedhimgooutofthegatewithoutevidenceofenthusiasm.

"That's Groat who owns Kennett Hall, isn't it?" said the porter to the agedstation-master.

"That's him," was the reply. "It was a bad day for this country when thatpropertycame intooldJaneGroat'shands.Abadwoman, that, ifever therewasone."

Unconscious of the criticisms of hismother,Digbywas bowling up the hillroad leading to the gates of Kennett Hall. The gates themselves weremagnificent specimens of seventeenth-century ironwork, but the lodges oneither side were those ugly stuccoed huts with which the mid-Victorianarchitect "embellished" the estatesof thegreat.Theyhadnotbeenoccupiedfor twentyyears,andboretheappearanceof theirneglect.Thelittlegardenswhich once had flowered so cheerfully before the specklesswindows,wereoverrun byweeds, and the gravel drive, seen through the gates,was almostindistinguishablefromthegrasslandoneitherside.

Thecaretakercamerunningdownthedrivetounlockthegates.Hewasanill-favouredmanoffiftywithaperpetualscowl,whicheventhepresenceofhismastercouldnotwhollyeradicate.

"Hasanybodybeenhere,masters?"askedDigby.

"No,sir,"saidtheman,"excepttheflyinggentleman.Hecamethismorning.What awonderful thing flying is, sir!Thewayhe camedown in theHomeParkwaswonderfultosee."

"Getonthestepwiththedriver,"saidDigbycurtly,whowasnotinterestedinhisservitor'sviewsofflying.

Thecardrove througha longavenueofelmsand turned tobreasta treelessslope that led up to the lower terrace. All the beauty and loveliness ofSomersetinwhichitstoodcouldnotsaveKennettHallfromthereproachofdreariness.Itsparapetswerecrumbledbythewindandrainoflong-forgotten

seasons,anditsfacewasscarredandstainedwiththirtywinters'rainsItsblackanddustywindowsseemedtoleeruponthefreshcleanbeautyoftheworld,asthoughinprideofitssheerugliness.

Fortwentyyearsnopainter'sbrushhadtouchedthedrabanduglywoodwork:andtheweedsgrewhighwhererosesusedtobloom.Threegreatwhiteseatsof marble, that were placed against the crumbling terrace balustrade, weregreenwithdrippingsfromtheneglectedtrees;theterracefloorwasbrokenandtheragsandtattersofdeadseasonsspreadtheirmoulderinglitterofleavesandtwigs and moss upon the marble walk where stately dames had trodden inthosebravedayswhenKennettHallwasanametoinspireawe.

Digbywasnotdepressedbyhisviewof theproperty.Hehadseenitbefore,andatonetimehadthoughtofpullingitdownand,erectingamodernbuildingforhisowncomfort.

ThemanhehadcalledMastersunlockedthebigdoorandusheredhimintothehouse.

Theneglectwashereapparent.Ashesteppedinto thebigbleakentranceheheardthescurryandscamperoftinyfeetandsmiled.

"You'vegotsomeratshere?"

"Rats?"saidMastersinatoneofresignation,"there'sacolonyofthem,sir.ItisasmuchasIcandotokeepthemoutofmyquarters,butthere'snothingintheeastwing,"hehastenedtoadd."Ihadacoupleofterriersandferretshereforamonthkeepingthemdown,andthey'reallonthissideofthehouse."Hejerkedhisheadtotheright.

"Istheflyinggentlemanhere?"

"He'shavingbreakfast,sir,atthisminute."

Digby followed the caretaker down a long gloomy passage on the groundfloor,andpassedthroughthedoorthatthemanopened.

ThebeardedVillanoddedwithahumorousglintinhiseyeasDigbyentered.Fromhisappearanceanddress,hehadevidentlyarrivedbyaeroplane.

"Well,yougothere,"saidDigby,glancingat thehugemealwhichhadbeenputbeforetheman.

"Igothere,"saidVillawithanextravagantflourishofhisknife."Butonlybythe favour of the gods. I do not like these scout machines: you must getBronsontopilotitback."

Digbynodded,andpullingoutaricketychair,satdown.

"Ihavegiven instructionsforBronson tocomehere-hewillarrive to-night,"hesaid.

"Good,"mutteredtheman,continuinghismeal.

Masters had gone, and Villa was listening to the receding sound of hisfootstepsupontheuncoveredboards,beforeheasked:

"Whatistheideaofthis,governor?Youarenotchangingheadquarters?"

"I don't know," replied Digby shortly, "but the Seaford aerodrome is underobservation.Atleast,Steeleknows,orguesses,allaboutit.Ihavedecidedtohiresomecommercialpilotstogiveanappearanceofgenuinebusinesstothecompany."

Villawhistled.

"This place is no use to you, governor," he said, shaking his head. "They'dtumbletoKennettHall—that'swhatyoucallit,isn'tit?"Hehadanoddwayofintroducingslangwords intohis tongue,forhespokeinSpanish,andDigbysmiledat"tumble."

"You'rebecomingquiteanexpertintheEnglishlanguage,Villa."

"Butwhy are you coming here?" persisted the other. "This could only be atemporaryheadquarters.Isthegameslipping?"heaskedsuddenly.

Digbynodded.

"Itmaycometoacaseofsauvequipeut,"hesaid,"thoughIhopeitwillnot.Everything depends upon—" He did not finish his sentence, but askedabruptly:"Howfaristheseafromhere?"

"Not a great distance,"was the reply. "I travelled at six thousand feet and IcouldseetheBristolChannelquitedistinctly."

Digbywasstrokinghischin,lookingthoughtfullyatthetable.

"Icantrustyou,Villa,"hesaid,"soItellyounow,muchasyoudislikethesefastmachines,you'vegot toholdyourself in readiness topilotme to safety.Again,IsaythatIdonotthinkitwillcometoflight,butwemustbeprepared.In themeantime, Ihaveacommissionforyou,"hesaid."Itwasnotonly tobringthemachinethatIarrangedforyoutocometothisplace."

Villahadguessedthat.

"ThereisamaninDeauville towhomyouhaveprobablyseenreferences inthenewspapers,amannamedMaxilla.HeisarichcoffeeplanterofBrazil."

"Thegambler?"saidtheotherinsurprise,andDigbynodded.

"IhappentoknowthatMaxillahashadaverybadtime-helostnearlytwentymillion francs in oneweek, and that doesn't represent all his losses.He hasbeengamblingatAixandatSanSebastian,andIshouldthinkheisinaprettydesperateposition."

"Buthewouldn'tbebroke,"saidVilla,shakinghishead."Iknowthemanyoumean.Why, he's as rich as Croesus! I saw his yacht when you sent me toHavre.Awonderful ship,worth a quarter of amillion.He has hundreds ofsquaremilesofcoffeeplantationsinBrazil—"

"I know all about that," said Digby impatiently. "The point is, that for themomentheisveryshortofmoney.Now,donotaskmeanyquestions,Villa:acceptmyword."

"Whatdoyouwantme todo?" asked theman. "Go toDeauville, takeyourslowmachineandflythere;seeMaxilla—youspeakPortuguese?"

Villanodded.

"Likeanative,"hesaid."IlivedinLisbon—"

"Nevermindwhereyoulived,"interruptedDigby,unpleasantly."YouwillseeMaxilla, and if, as I believe, he is short of money, offer him a hundredthousand pounds for his yacht.Hemaywant double that, and youmust beprepared to pay it. Maxilla hasn't the best of reputations, and probably hiscrew—whoareallBraziliansbytheway—willbegladtosailunderanotherflag.Ifyoucaneffectthepurchase,sendmeawire,andordertheboattobebroughtroundtotheBristolChanneltobecoaled."

"Itisanoil-runningship,"saidVilla.

"Well,itmusttakeonsuppliesofoilandprovisionsforamonth'svoyage.ThecaptainwillcomestraighttomeinLondontoreceivehisinstructions.Idaresayoneofhisofficerscanbringtheboatacross.Now,isthatcleartoyou?"

"Everything is clear tome,my dear friend," saidVilla blandly, "except twothings.TobuyayachtImusthavemoney."

"ThatIwillgiveyoubeforeyougo."

"Secondly,"saidVilla,puttingthestumpofhisforefingerinhispalm,"wheredoespoorAugustVillacomeintothis?"

"Yougetawayaswell,"saidDigby.

"Isee,"saidVilla.

"Maxillamust not know that I am the purchaser under any circumstances,"Digby went on. "You may either be buying the boat for yourself in yourcapacity as a rich Cuban planter, or youmay be buying it for an unknownfriend.IwillarrangetokeepthecaptainandthecrewquietassoonasIamonboard.YouleaveforDeauvilletonight."

Hehadotherpreparationstomake.Mastersreceivedanordertopreparetwosmall rooms and to arrange for beds and bedding to be erected, and theinstructionsfilledhimwithconsternation.

"Don't arguewithme," saidDigby angrily. "Go intoBristol, into any town,buythebedsandbringthemoutinacar.Idon'tcarewhatitcosts.Andgetasquareofcarpetforthefloor."

Hetossedabundleofnotesintotheman'sband,andMasters,whohadneverseensomuchmoneyinhislife,nearlydroppedtheminsheeramazement.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

DIGBYGROAT returned to town by car and reachedGrosvenor Square intime for dinner. He had a hasty meal and then went up to his room andchanged.

HepassedtheroomthatEuniceoccupiedandfoundJacksonsittingonachairbeforethedoor.

"She's all right," said the man, grinning. "I've shuttered and padlocked thewindowsandI've toldher that ifshedoesn'twantme tomakefriendlycallsshehastobehave."

Digbynodded.

"Andmymother—yougaveherthelittlebox?"

AgainJacksongrinned.

"Andshe'shappy,"hesaid."Ineverdreamtshewasadope,Mr.Groat—"

"Thereisnoneedforyoutodreamanything,"saidDigbysharply.

Hehadacalltomake.LadyWalthamwasgivingadancethatnight,andtherewouldbepresenttwomembersofthesyndicatewhomhewastomeetonthefollowingmorning.One of these drewhim aside during the progress of thedance.

"Isupposethosetransfersarequiteinorderforto-morrow,"hesaid.

Digbynodded.

"Someofmypeoplearecurioustoknowwhyyouwantcash,"hesaid,lookingatDigbywithasmile.

Theothershruggedhisshoulders.

"You seem to forget, my dearman," he said suavely, "that I ammerely anagent in thesematters, and that I am acting formy rather eccentricmother.Godblessher!"

"That is theexplanationwhichhadoccurred tome,"said thefinancier."Thepaperswillbeinorder,ofcourse?Iseemtorememberyousayingthattherewasanotherpaperwhichhadtobesignedbyyourmother."

Digbyrememberedwithanunspokenoaththathehadneglectedtosecurethissignature.Assoonashecould,hemadehisexcusesandreturnedtoGrosvenorSquare.

Hismother'sroomwaslocked,butsheheardhisgentletap.

"Whoisthat?"shedemandedinaudibleagitation.

"ItisDigby."

"Iwillseeyouinthemorning."

"Iwanttoseeyoutonight,"interruptedDigbysharply."Openthedoor."

Itwassome timebeforesheobeyed.Shewas inherdressing-gown,andheryellowfacewasgreywithfear.

"Iamsorrytodisturbyou,mother,"saidDigby,dosingthedoorbehindhim,"butIhaveadocumentwhichmustbesignedtonight."

"I gave you everything you wanted," she said tremulously, "didn't I, dear?Everythingyouwanted,myboy?"

Shehadnottheremotestideathathewasdisposingofherproperty.

"Couldn'tIsignitinthemorning?"shepleaded."Myhandissoshaky."

"Signitnow,"healmostshouted,andsheobeyed.

The Northern Land Syndicate was but one branch of a great financecorporation, and had been called into existence to acquire the Dantonproperties. In a large, handsomely furnished board-room, members of thesyndicatewerewaiting.LordWalthamwasone;HugoVindt,thebluff,good-naturedJewishfinancier,whosefingerswereinmostofthebusinesspies,wasthe second; and Felix Strathellan, that debonair man-about-town, was theimportant third—for he was one of the shrewdest land speculators in thekingdom.

A fourthmember of the party was presently shown in in the person of theScotchlawyer,Bennett,whocarriedunderhisarmablackportfolio,whichhelaidonthetable.

"Goodmorning,gentlemen,"hesaidshortly.Millionaires'syndicateshadlongfailedtoimpresshim.

"Goodmorning,Bennett," saidhis lordship. "Haveyouseenyourclient thismorning?"

Mr.Bennettmadeawryfaceasheunstrappedtheportfolio.

"No,mylord,Ihavenot,"hesaid,andsuggestedbyhistonethathewasnotatalldispleasedthathehadmissedamorninginterviewwithDigbyGroat.

"AqueerfellowisGroat,"saidVindtwithalaugh."Heisnotabusinessman,andyethehascuriouslykeenmethods.IshouldneverhaveguessedhewasanEnglishman:helooksmorelikeaLatin,don'tyouthink.LordWaltham?"

Hislordshipnodded.

"A queer family, theGroats," he said. "Iwonder howmany of you fellowsknowthathismotherisakleptomaniac?"

"Goodheavens,"saidStrathellaninamazement,"youdon'tmeanthat?"

Hislordshipnodded.

"She'squitearumoldladynow,"hesaid,"thoughtherewasatimewhenshewasashandsomeawomanastherewasintown.Sheusedtovisitusalot,andinvariably we discovered, when she had gone, that some little trinket, veryoften a perfectly worthless trifle, but on one occasion a rather valuablebraceletbelongingtomydaughter,haddisappearedwithher.UntilIrealizedthe trueconditionofaffairs itused toworryme,but themoment I spoke toGroat,thepropertywasrestored,andwecametoexpectthisevidenceofher

eccentricity.She'saluckywoman,"headded.

"I wouldn't say that with a son like Digby," smiled Strathellan, who wasdrawingfiguresidlyonhisblotting-pad.

"Nevertheless,she'slucky,"persistedhislordship."IfthatchildoftheDantonshadn'tbeenkilled,theGroatswouldhavebeenaspoorasChurchmice."

"DidyouevermeetLadyMary,mylord?"askedVindt.

LordWalthamnodded.

"ImetLadyMaryandthebaby,"hesaidquietly;"IusedtobeondiningtermswiththeDantons.Andabeautifullittlebabyshewas."

"Whatbabyisthis?"askedavoice.

DigbyGroathadcomeininhisnoiselessfashion,andclosedthedooroftheboard-roomsoftlybehindhim.Thequestionwasthefirstintimationtheyhadofhispresence,allexceptLordWaltham,who,outof thecornerofhiseye,hadseenhisentrance.

"WeweretalkingaboutLadyMary'sbaby,yourcousin."

DigbyGroatsmiledcontemptuously.

"Itwillnotprofitusverymuchtodiscussher."hesaid.

"Doyourememberheratall,Groat?"askedWaltham.

"Dimly,"saidDigbywithacarelessshrug."I'mnotfrightfullykeen,onbabies.I have a faint recollection that she was once staying in our house, and Iassociateherwithprodigioushowling!Iseverythingallright,Bennett?"

Bennettnodded.

"Here is thepaperyouasked for."Digby took it fromhispocket and laid itbefore the lawyer, who unfolded it leisurely and read it with exasperatingslowness.

"Thatisinorder,"hesaid."Now,gentlemen,wewillgettobusiness."

Such of them who were not already seated about the table, drew up theirchairs.

"Your insistenceuponhaving themoney incashhasbeen ratheranuisance,groat,"saidLordWaltham,pickingupatinboxfromthefloorandopeningit."Ihate tohavea lotofmoneyin theoffice; ithasmeant theemploymentof

twospecialwatchmen."

"I will pay," said Digby good-humouredly, watching with greedy eyes asbundleafterbundleofnoteswaslaiduponthetable.

Thelawyertwistedroundthepaperandofferedhimapen.

"Youwillsignhere,Mr.Groat,"hesaid.

AtthatmomentVindtturnedhisheadtotheclerkwhohadjustentered.

"Forme?"hesaid,indicatingtheletterintheman'shand.

"No,sir,forMr.Bennett."

Bennett took the note, looked at the name embossed upon the flap, andfrowned.

"FromSalter,"hesaid,"anditismarked'urgentandimportant.'"

"Letitwaituntilafterwehavefinishedthebusiness,"saidDigbyimpatiently.

"Youhadbetterseewhatitis,"repliedthelawyer,andtookoutatypewrittensheetofpaper.Hereaditthroughcarefully.

"Whatisit?"askedDigby.

"I'mafraid thissalecannotgo through,"answered the lawyerslowly."Salterhasenteredacaveatagainstthetransferoftheproperty."

LividwithrageDigbysprangtohisfeet.

"Whatrighthashe?"hedemandedsavagely."Heisnolongermylawyer:hehasnorighttoact.Whoauthorizedhim?"

Thelawyerhadaqueerexpressiononhisface.

"Thiscaveat,"he said, speakingdeliberately, "hasbeenenteredbySalteronbehalfofDorothyDanton,who,accordingtotheletter,isstillalive."

Therewasapainfulsilence,whichthevoiceofVindtbroke.

"Sothatsettlesthetransfer,"hesaid."Wecannotgoonwiththisbusiness,youunderstand,Groat?"

"ButIinsistonthetransfergoingthrough,"criedDigbyviolently."Thewholethingisaplotgotupbythatditheringoldfool,Salter.EverybodyknowsthatDorothyDantonisdead!Shehasbeendeadfortwentyyears."

"Nevertheless," saidLordWaltham quietly, "we cannotmove in face of thecaveat.Withoutbeingalegalinstrument,itplacesuponthepurchasersofthepropertythefullestresponsibilityfortheirpurchase."

"ButIwillsignthetransfer,"saidDigbyvehemently.

LordWalthamshookhishead.

"Itwouldnotmatterifyousignedtwentytransfers,"hesaid."IfwepaidyouthemoneyforthispropertyanditprovedtobethepropertyofMissDanton,asundoubtedly it would prove, if she were alive, we, and only we, would beresponsible. We should have to surrender the property and look to you torefundus themoneywehadinvestedin theestate.No,no,Groat, if it is,asyousay,abluffonthepartofSalter—anduponmyword,IcannotimagineamanofSalter'sposition,ageandexperienceputtingupemptybluff—thenwecanhaveameetingonanotherdayandthedealcangothrough.Weareveryeagertoacquiretheseproperties."

TherewasamurmurofagreementfrombothStrathellanandVindt.

"But at present, asmatters stand,we candonothing, andyou as a businessmanmustrecognizeourhelplessnessinthematter."

Digbywasbesidehimselfwithfuryashesawthemoneybeingputbackinthetinbox.

"Verywell,"hesaid.Hisfacewaspallidandhissuppressedrageshookhimaswithanague.Buthenever lostsightofall thepossibledevelopmentsof thelawyer'saction.Ifhehadtaken,sograveastepinrespecttotheproperty,hewould takeaction inotherdirections, andno timemustbe lost if hewas toanticipateSalter'snextmove.

Withoutanotherwordhe turnedonhisheelandstalkeddown thestairs intothestreet.Hiscarwaswaiting.

"TotheThirdNationalBank,"hesaid,asheflunghimself into its luxuriousinterior.

He knew that at the Third National Bank was a sum nearly approaching ahundred thousand pounds which his parsimonious mother had accumulatedduringtheperiodshehadbeeninreceiptoftherevenuesoftheDantonestate.Viewingthematterascalmlyashecould,hewasforcedtoagree thatSalterwasnotthemanwhowouldplaytricksoremploythemachineryofthelaw,unlesshehadbehindhimaverysubstantialbackingoffacts.DorothyDanton!Where had she sprung from? Who was she? Digby cursed her long andheartily.Atanyrate,hethought,ashiscarstoppedbeforethebankpremises,

hewouldbeon thesafesideandgethishandsonall themoneywhichwaslyingloose.

He wished now that when he had sent Villa to Deauville he had taken hismother'smoneyforthepurchaseofthegambler'syacht.InsteadofthathehaddrawnupontheenormousfundsoftheThirteen.

Hewasshown into themanager'soffice,andhe thought that thatgentlemangreetedhimalittlecoldly.

"Goodmorning,Mr.Stevens,Ihavecometodrawoutthegreaterpartofmymother'sbalance,andIthoughtIwouldseeyoufirst."

"I'm glad you did, Mr. Groat," was the reply. "Will you sit down?" Themanagerwasobviouslyillatease."Thefactis,"heconfessed,"Iamnotinapositiontohonouranychequesyoudrawuponthisbank."

"Whatthedevildoyoumean?"demandedDigby.

"I amsorry," said themanager, shrugginghis shoulders, "but thismorning Ihavebeenservedwithanotice thatacaveathasbeenenteredat theProbateOffice,preventingtheoperationoftheDantonwillinyourmother'sfavour.Ihavealreadyinformedourheadofficeandtheyaretakinglegalopinion,butasMr. Salter threatens to obtain immediately an injunction unlesswe agree tocomply, it would bemadness onmy part to let you touch a penny of yourmother'saccount.Yourownaccount,ofcourse,youcandrawupon."

Digby'sownaccountcontainedarespectablesum,heremembered.

"Verywell,"hesaidafterconsideration."WillyoudiscovermybalanceandIwillclosetheaccount."

Hewas cool now. This was not themoment to hammer his head against abrickwall.Heneededtomeetthiscold-bloodedoldlawyerwithcunningandforesight.Salterwasdiabolicallywiseinthelawandhaditsprocessesathisfingertips,andhemustgowanlyagainsttheframedfighterorhewouldcometoeverlastingsmash.

Fortunately,theaccountoftheThirteenwasatanotherbank,andiftheworstcame to theworst—well, he could leave elevenof theThirteen tomake thebestofthingstheycould.

Themanagerreturnedpresentlyandpassedaslipacrossthetable,andafewminutesafterwardsDigbycamebacktohiscar,hispocketsbulgingwithbank-notes.

AtallbeardedmanstoodonthesidewalkashecameoutandDigbygavehima cursory glance. Detective, he thought, and went cold. Were the policealreadystirringagainsthim,orwasthissomeprivatewatcherofSalter's?Hedecidedrightlythatitwasthelatter.

Whenhegotbacktothehousehefoundatelegramwaiting.ItwasfromVilla.Itwasshortandsatisfactory.

"Bought Pealigo hundred and twelve thousand pounds. Ship on its way toAvonmouth. Am bringing captain back by air. Calling Grosvenor nineo'clock."

Thefrownclearedawayfromhisfaceashereadthetelegramforthesecondtune, and as he thought, a smile lit up his yellow face.Hewas thinking ofEunice.Thepositionwasnotwithoutitscompensations.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

EUNICEwassitting in theshuttered roomtrying to readwhenDigbyGroatcamein.Allthecolourleftherfaceassherosetomeethim.

"Good evening. Miss Weldon," he said in his usual manner. "I hope youhaven'tbeenverybored."

"Will youplease explainwhy I amkept here a prisoner?" she asked a littlebreathlessly."Yourealizethatyouarecommittingaveryseriouscrime—"

Helaughedinherface.

"Well," he said almost jovially, "at any rate.Eunice,we candrop themask.Thatisoneblessedsatisfaction!Thesepolitelittlespeechesareirksometomeastheyaretoyou."

Hetookherhandinhis.

"Howcoldyouare,mydear,"hesaid,"yettheroomiswarm!"

"WhenmayIleavethishouse?"sheaskedinalowvoice.

"Leave thishouse—leaveme?"He threw theglovesbehadstrippedon toachairandcaughtherbytheshoulders."Whenarewegoing?That isabetterwayofputtingit.Howlovelyyouare,Eunice!"

Therewasnodisguisenow.Themaskwasoff,ashehadsaid,andtheugliness

ofhisblacknaturewaswritteninhiseyes.

Stillshedidnotresist,standingstifflyerectlikeafigureofmarble.Notevenwhenhetookherfaceinbothhishandsandpressedhislipstohers,didshemove.Sheseemedincapable.Somethinginsideherhadfrozenandshecouldonlystareathim.

"Iwantyou,Eunice!Ihavewantedyouallthetime.Ichoseyououtofallthewomen in theworld tobemine. Ihavewaited foryou, longed foryou, andnowIhaveyou!There isnobodyhere,Eunice,butyouand I.Doyouhear,darling?"

Thensuddenlyachordsnappedwithinher.Withaneffortof strengthwhichsurprised him she thrust him off, her eyes staring in horror as though shecontemplated some loathsome crawling thing. That look inflamed him. Hesprangforward,andashedid, thegirl in thedesperationoffrenzy,struckathim;twiceheropenhandcameacrosshisface.Hesteppedbackwithayell.Before he could reach her she had flown into the bathroom and locked thedoor.Forfullyfiveminuteshestood,thenheturnedandwalkedslowlyacrosstothedressing-table,andsurveyedhisfaceinthebigmirror.

"Shestruckme!"thishesaid.Hewasaswhiteasasheet.Againsthispalefacethe imprint of her hand showed lividly. "She struck me!" he said againwonderingly,andbegantolaugh.

For every blow, for every joint on every finger of the hand that struck theblow, she should have pain. Pain and terror. She should pray for death, sheshouldcrawltohimandclasphisfeetinheragony.Hisbreathcamequickerandhewipedthesweatfromhisforeheadwiththebackofhishand.

Hepassedout,lockingthedoorbehindhim.Hishandwasonthekeywhenheheard a sound and looking along the corridor, saw the door of hismother'sroomopenandtheoldwomanstandinginthedoorway.

"Digby," she said, and therewas avigour andcommand inhervoicewhichmadehim frown. "Iwantyou!" she said imperatively, and in amazementheobeyedher.

Shehadgonebacktoherchairwhenhecameintotheroom.

"Whatdoyouwant?"hedemanded.

"Shutthedoorandsitdown."

Hestaredatherdumbfounded.Not forayearhadshedaredaddresshim inthattone.

"Whatthedevildoyoumeanbyorderingme—"hebegan.

"Sitdown,"shesaidquietly,andthenheunderstood.

"So,youolddevil,thedopeisinyou!"

"Sitdown,mylovechild,"shesneered."Sitdown,DigbyEstremeda!Iwanttospeaktoyou."

Hisfacewentlivid.

"You—you—"hegasped.

"Sitdown.Tellmewhatyouhavedonewithmyproperty."

He obeyed her slowly, looking at her as though he could not believe theevidenceofhisears.

"Whathaveyoudonewithmyproperty?"sheaskedagain."LikeafoolIgaveyouaPowerofAttorney.Howhaveyouemployedit?Haveyousold—"

shewaslookingathimkeenly.

Hewassurprisedintotellingthetruth.

"Theyhaveputanembargo—orsomesuchrubbish—onthesale."

Shenodded.

"Ihopedtheywould,"shesaid."Ihopedtheywould!"

"Youhopedtheywould?"heroared,gettingup.

Herimperioushandwavedhimdownagain.Hepassedhishandoverhiseyeslikeamaninadream.Shewasissuingorders;thisoldwomanwhomhehaddominated for years, and he was obeying meekly! He had given her themorphinetoquietenher,andithadmadeherhismaster.

"Whydidtheystopthesale?"

"Because that old lunatic Salter swears that the girl is still alive—DorothyDanton,thebabywhowasdrownedatMargate!"

Hesawaslowsmileonherlinedfaceandwonderedwhatwasamusingher.

"Sheisalive!"shesaid.

Hecouldonlyglareatherinspeechlessamazement.

"Dorothy Danton alive?" he said. "You're mad, you old fool! She's gonebeyondrecall—dead—deadthesetwentyyears!"

"Andwhatbroughtherbacktolife,Iwonder?"musedtheoldwoman?"HowdidtheyknowshewasDorothy?Why,ofcourseyoubroughtherback!"Shepointedherskinnyfingeratherson."Youbroughther,youaretheinstrumentofyourownundoing,myboy!"shesaidderisively."Oh,youpoorlittlefool—youcleverfool!"

Nowhehadmasteredhimself.

"Youwill tellmeall there is tobe told,or,byGod,you'llbesorryyoueverspokeatall,"hebreathed.

"Youmarkedher.Thatiswhyshehasbeenrecognized—youmarkedher!"

"Imarkedher?"

"Don'tyouremember,Digby,"shespokerapidlyandseemedtofindajoyinthehurt shewas causing, "a tinybaby and a cruel little beast of aboywhoheatedasixpenceandputitonthebaby'swrist?"

Itcamebacktohiminstantly.Hecouldalmostheartheshriekofhisvictim.Asummer day and a big room full of old furniture. The vision of a garden-throughanopenwindowandthesoundofthebees...asmallspirit-lampwherehehadheatedthecoin....

"MyGod!"saidDigby,reelingback."Iremember!"

Hestaredatthemockingfaceofhismotherforasecond,thenturnedandlefttheroom.Ashedidso,therecameasharprat-tatatthedoor.Swiftlyheturnedintohisownroomandrantothewindow.

Oneglanceatthestreettoldhimallthathewantedtoknow.HesawJimandoldSalter...theremusthavebeenadozendetectiveswiththem.

Thedoorwouldholdforfiveminutes,andtherewastimetocarryouthislastplan.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE

AMINUTElaterheappearedinEuniceWeldon'sroom."Iwantyou,"hesaid,andtherewasasinisterlookinhiseyethatmadethegirlcowerbackfromhim

in fear that she could notmaster. "Mydear," he saidwith that smile of his,"youneednotbeafraid,yourfriendsarebreakingintothehouseandinhalfanhour you will be free.What I intend doing to you is to put you in such aconditionthatyouwillnotbeabletogiveinformationagainstmeuntilIamclearofthishouse.No,Iamnotgoingtokillyou,"healmostlaughed,"andifyouarenotsensibleenoughtorealizewhyIamtakingthisstep,thenyouareafool—andyouarenotafool,Eunice."

Shesawsomethingbrightandglitteringinhishandandterrortookpossessionofher.

"Don'ttouchme,"shegasped."IswearIwillnottell,"buthehadgrippedherarm.

"Ifyoumakeasound,"hisfacewasthrustintohers,"you'llregretittothelastdayofyourlife."

Shefeltasuddenprickingsensationinherarmandtriedtopull itaway,butherarmwasheldasbyavice.

"There.Itwasn'tverypainful,wasit?"

Sheheardhimutteracurse,andwhenheturnedhisfacewasredwithrage.

"They'vesmashedinthegates,"hesaidsharply.

Shewaswalking towardhim,herhandon the littlepuncture theneedlehadmade,andherfacewascuriouslycalm.

"Areyougoingnow?"sheaskedsimply.

"Wearegoinginafewminutes,"saidDigby,emphasizingthe"we".

Buteventhisshedidnotresent.Shehadfallenintoacuriousplacidconditionof mind which was characterized by the difficulty, amounting to animpossibility, of remembering what happened the previous minute. All shecoulddowastositdownontheedgeofachair,nursingherarm.Sheknewithurt her, andyet shewas conscious of no hurt. Itwas a curious impersonalsensation she had. To her, Digby Groat had no significance. He was asomebodywhom she neither liked nor disliked. It was all very strange andpleasant.

"Putyourhaton,"hesaid,andsheobeyed.Sheneverdreamtofdisobeying.

He ledher to thebasement and throughadoorwhichcommunicatedwithagarage.Itwasnotthegaragewherehekepthisowncar—JimhadoftenbeenpuzzledtoexplainwhyDigbykepthiscarsofarfromthehouse.Theonlycar

visiblewasacoveredvan,suchas theaverage tradesmanuses todeliverhisgoods.

"Getin,"saidDigby,andEuniceobeyedwithastrangesmile.

Shewasundertheinfluenceofthatadmixtureofmorphineandhyacin,whichdestroyedallmemoryandwill.

"Sit on the floor," he ordered, and laced the canvas flap at the back. Hereachedunder thedriver's seat andpulledout a cotton coatwhichhadoncebeenwhite,butwasnowdisfiguredwithpaintandgrease,buttoningituptothethroat.Acaphetookfromthesamesourceandpulleditoverhishead,sothatthepeakwellcoveredhiseyes.

Then he opened the gates of a garage. He was in a mews, and with theexceptionofawomanwhowastalkingtoamilkman,theonlytwopersonsinsight,nonesawthevanemerge.

Therewasnottheslightestsuspicionofhurryonhispart.Hedescendedfromhisseattoclosethegatesandlockthem,litapipeand,clamberingup,setthelittlevangoinginthedirectionoftheBayswaterRoad.

Hestoppedonlyatthepetrolstationtotakeaboardafairsupplyofspirit,andthenhewenton,stillataleisurelypace,passingthroughtheoutlyingsuburbs,untilhecametothelongroadleadingfromStainestoAscot.Herehestoppedandgotdown.

Takingthelittleflatcasefromhispocket,andrechargingtheglasscylinder,heopenedthecanvasflap-atthebackandlookedin.

Eunicewassittingwithherbackbracedagainstthesideofthevan,herheadnoddingsleepily.Shelookedupwithapuzzledexpression.

"Itwon'thurtyou,"saidDigby.Againtheneedlewent intoherarm,andthepistonwasthrusthome.

Shescrewedupherfacealittleatthepainandagainfondledherarm.

"Thathurt,"shesaidsimply.

Just outside Ascot a touring car was held up by two policemen andDigbyslowedfromnecessity,forthecarhadlefthimnoroomtopass.

"We are looking for a man and a girl," said one of the policemen to theoccupantsofthecar."Allright,sir,goon."

Digbynoddedinafriendlywaytothepoliceman.

"Isitallright,sergeant?"

"Offyougo," said the sergeant,not troubling to look insideavanonwhichwaspaintedthenameofareputablefirmofLondonfurnishers.

Digbybreathedquickly.Hemustnotriskanotherencounter.Therewouldbeasecondbarrieratthecrossroads,whereheintendedturning.HemustgobacktoLondon, he thought, the policewould not stop a London- bound car.HeturnedintoasecondaryroadandreachedthemainBathroadpassinganotherbarrier,where, ashehadexpected, thepolicedidnotchallengehim, thoughtheywereholdingupastringofvehiclesgoing in theotherdirection.Therewere half a dozen places to which he could take her, but the safest was agarage he had hired at the back of a block of buildings in Paddington. Thegarage had been useful to the Thirteen, but had not been utilized for thegreaterpartofayear,thoughhehadsentJacksonfrequentlytosuperintendthecleaning.

HegainedthewestofLondonastherainbegantofall.Everythingwasinhisfavour.Themewsinwhichthegaragewassituatedwasdesertedandhehadopenedthegatesandbackedinthecarbeforetheoccupantsofthenextgaragewerecuriousenoughtocomeouttoseewhoitwas.

Digbyhadonefadandithadservedhimwellbefore.Itwastobeinvaluablenow.Yearsbefore,hehadinsistedthateveryhouseandeveryroom,ifitwereonlyastore-room,shouldhavealockofsuchacharacterthatitshouldopentohismasterkey.

Hehalf led,half lifted thegirl from thecar, and she sighedwearily, for shewasstiffandtired.

"Thisway,"hesaid,andpushedherbeforehimupthedarkstairs,keepingheronthelandingwhilsthelitthegas.

Though it had not been dusted for the best part of a month, the roomoverlooking themewswasneat and comfortably furnished.Hepulleddowntheheavyblindbeforehe lit thegashere, feltherpulseand looked intohereyes.

"You'll do, I think," he saidwith a smile. "Youmustwait hereuntil I comeback.Iamgoingtogetsomefood."

"Yes,"sheanswered.

Hewasgonetwentyminutes,andonhisreturnhesawthatshehadtakenoffher coat and hadwashed her hands and face. She was listlessly drying herhandswhenhecameupthestairs.Therewassomethingpatheticallychildlike

inher attitude, andamanwhowas lessof abrute thanDigbyGroatwouldhavesuccumbedtotheappealofherhelplessness.

Buttherewasnohintofpityinthethoughtfuleyesthatsurveyedher.Hewaswondering whether it would be safe to give her another dose. In order tosecureaquickeffecthehadadministeredmore thanwassafealready.Theremightbeacollapse,orafailureofheart,whichwouldbeasfataltohimastoher.Hedecidedtowaituntiltheeffectshadalmostwornoff.

"Eat,"hesaid,andshesatatthetableobediently.

He had brought in cold meat, a loaf of bread, butter and cheese. Hesupplementedthisfeastwithtwoglassesofwaterwhichhedrewinthelittlescullery.

Suddenlysheputdownherknifeandfork.

"Ifeelverytired,"shesaid.

Somuchthebetter,thoughtDigby.Shewouldsleepnow.

The back roomwas a bedroom. He watched her whilst she unfastened hershoesandloosenedthebeltofherskirtbeforeshelaydown.Withasigh,sheturnedoverandwasfastasleepbeforehecouldwalktotheothersideofthebedtoseeherface.

Digby Groat smoked for a long time over his simple meal. The girl waswholly inhispower,butshecouldwait.Amuchmorevitalmatterabsorbedhis attention. He himself had reached the possibility which he had longforeseenandprovidedagainst.Itwasnotapleasantsituation,hethought,andfoundreliefforhismindbyconcentratinghisthoughtsuponthelovelyranchinBrazil,onwhich,withaverage luck,hewouldspendtheremainderofhisdays.

Presently he got up, produced from a drawer a set of shaving materialswrapped in a towel, and heating some water at the little gas- stove in thekitchen,heproceededtodivesthimselfofhismoustache.

Withthemasterkeyheunlockedthecupboardthatrantheheightoftheroom,andsurveyedthoughtfullythestacksofdressesandcostumeswhichfilledthehalf a dozen shelves. The two top shelves were filled with boxes, and hebroughtoutthreeoftheseandexaminedtheircontents.Fromoneofthesehetookabeautifuleveninggownofsilver tissue,and laid itover thebackofachair.Asatinwrapfollowed,andfromanotherboxhetookwhitesatinshoesandstockingsandseemedsatisfiedbyhischoice,forhelookedatthemforalongtimebeforehefoldedthemandputthembackwherehehadfoundthem.

Hisowndisguisehehaddecidedupon.

And now, having mapped out his plan, he dressed himself in a chauffeur'suniform,andwentouttothetelephone.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

"DEAD!JaneGroatdead?"

ToLadyMarythenewscameasashock.

Jim, gaunt and hollow-eyed, sitting listlessly by thewindow ofMr. Salter'soffice,nodded.

"The doctors think it was an overdose of morphia that killed her," he saidshortly.

LadyMarywassilentforalongwhile,then;

"I think perhaps now is amomentwhen I can tell you something about theBlueHand,"shesaid.

"Willitassistus?"askedJim,turningquickly.

Sheshookherhead.

"Iamafraiditwillnot,butthisImusttellyou.ThepersonagainstwhomtheBlueHandwasdirectedwasnotDigbyGroat,buthismother.Ihavemadeonegravemistakerecently,"shesaid,"anditwastobelievethatDigbyGroatwasdominated by his mother. I was amazed to discover that so far from herdominatinghim,shewashisslave,andtheonlyexplanationIcangiveforthisextraordinarytransitionisDigbyGroat'sdiscoverythathismotherwasadrug-taker.Oncehewasstrongenoughtokeepthedrugfromherthepositionswerereversed.Thestoryof theBlueHand,"shesaidwithhersad littlesmile,"isneitherasfantasticnorasmelodramaticasyoumightexpect."

Therewasalongsilencewhichneitherofthemenbroke.

"Iwasmarriedataveryearlyage,asyouknow."ShenoddedtoSalter."Myfatherwasaverypoornoblemanwithonedaughterandnosons,andhefounditnotonlydifficulttokeepupthemortgagedestateswhichhehadinherited,but tomake both endsmeet even though hewas living in themostmodestway.ThenhemetJonathanDanton'sfather,andbetweenthetwotheyfixedup

amarriagebetweenmyselfandJonathan.Inevermethimuntilaweekbeforemywedding-day.Hewasacold,hardman,verymuchlikehisfather,justtoafault, proud and stiff-necked, and to his natural hardness of demeanourwasaddedthefretfulnessduetoanaffectedheart,whicheventuallykilledhim.

"Mymarriedlifewasanunhappyone.ThesympathythatIsoughtwasdeniedme.Withallhiswealthhecouldhavemademehappy,but fromthefirstheseemed to be suspicious of me, and I have often thought that he hatedmebecauseIwasamemberofaclasswhichheprofessedtodespise.WhenourdaughterwasbornIimaginedthattherewouldbeachangeinhisattitude,but,ifanything,thechangewasfortheworse.

"Ihadmethissister,JaneGroat,andknew,inavaguekindofway,thatsomescandalhadattachedtohername-Jonathanneverdiscussedit,buthisfather,inhis lifetime, loathed Janeandwouldnot allowher toputher foot insidehishouse.Jonathanhadn'tthesameprejudices.Heknewnothingofherescapadewith the Spaniard, Estremeda, and I only learnt of the circumstances byaccident.

"Janewasapeculiarmixture.Somedaysshewouldbebrightandvivacious,andsomedaysshewouldbeinthedepthsofgloom,andthisusedtopuzzleme,untilonedaywewereatteatogetheratourhouseinParkLane.Shehadcome ina stateofnervesand irritabilitywhichdistressedme. I thought thatherlittleboywasgivinghertrouble,forIknewhowdifficulthewas,andhowhiscruelways,evenat that tenderage,annoyedher. Inearlysaiddistressedher,"shesmiled,"butJanewasneverdistressedat things like that.Wewerehaving a cupof teawhen sheput her hand inher bag and tookout a smallbottlefilledwithbrownpellets.

"'Ireallycan'twaitanylonger,Mary,'shesaid,andswallowedoneofthepills.Ithoughtitwassomethingfordigestion,untilIsawhereyesbegintobrightenandherwholedemeanourchange,thenIguessedthetruth.

"'You'renottakingdrugs,areyou,Jane?'Iasked.

"'I'mtakingalittlemorphine,'shereplied.'Dontbeshocked,Mary.Ifyouhadmytroubles,andalittledevilofaboytolookafter,asIhave,you'dtakedrugstoo!'

"Butthatwasnotherworstweakness,frommypointofview.WhatthatwasIlearntaftermyhusbandsailedtoAmericaonbusiness.

"Dorothy was then about seven or eight months old, a bonny, healthy,beautiful child, whom my husband adored in his cold, dour fashion. Onemorning Janecame intomy roomwhile Iwasdressing, andapologizing for

her early arrival, asked me if I would go shopping with her. She was socheerful and gay that I knew she had been swallowing some of those littlepellets,andasIwasatalooseendthatmorningIagreed.Wewenttoseveralstores and finished up at Clayneys, the big emporium inBromptonRoad. InoticedthatJanemadeveryfewpurchases,butthisdidn'tstrikemeasbeingpeculiar,becauseJanewasnotoriouslymean,andIdon'tthinkshehadagreatdealofmoneyeither.IdidnotknowClayneys.Ihadneverbeentotheshopbefore. This explanation is necessary in view of what followed. Suddenly,whenwewerepassingthroughthesilkdepartment,Janeturnedtomewithastartledexpressionandsaidtomeunderherbreath,'Putthissomewhere.'

"BeforeIcouldexpostulate,shehadthrustsomethingintotheinteriorofmymuff.ItwasacolddayandIwascarryingoneofthosebigpillowmuffswhichweresofashionableinthatyear.Ihadhardlydonesobeforesomebodytappedme on the shoulder. I turned to see a respectable- looking man who saidsharply,'I'lltroubleyoutoaccompanymetothemanager'soffice.'

"I was dazed and bewildered, and the only thing I recollect was Janewhisperinginmyear, 'Don'tgiveyourname.'Sheapparentlywassuspectaswell, for we were both taken to a large office, where an elderly maninterviewedus.'Whatisyourname?'heasked.ThefirstnameIcouldthinkofwasmymaid,MadgeBenson.Ofcourse,Iwashalfmad.Ishouldhavetoldthemthat IwasLadyMaryDantonandshouldhavebetrayedJaneupon thespot.Mymuffwassearchedandinsidewasfoundalargesquareofsilk,whichwasthearticleJanehadputintoit.

"The elderlyman retiredwith his companion to a corner of the room and Iturned to Jane. 'Youmust getme out of this; it is disgraceful of you, Jane.Whatevermadeyoudoit?'

"'ForGod'ssake,don'tsayaword,'shewhispered. 'Whateverhappens,Iwilltaketheresponsibility.Themagistrate—'

"'Themagistrate?'Isaidinhorror.'Ishallnotgobeforeamagistrate?'

"'Youmust, youmust; itwouldbreak Jonathan's heart, andhewouldblameyou if I came intocourt.Quick.'She loweredhervoiceandbegan speakingrapidly.'IknowthemagistrateatPaddingtonandIwillgotohimandmakeaconfession of the whole thing.When you come up to-morrow you will bedischarged.Mary,youmustdothisforme,youmust!'

"To cut a long story short, the manager came back and, summoning apoliceman,gaveme intocustody. Ineitherdeniedmycrimenor inanywayimplicated Jane. I found afterwards that she explained to the proprietor thatshewasadistantrelationofmineandshehadmetmeintheshopbyaccident.

HowcanIdepictthehorrorofthatnightspentinapolice-courtcell?InmyfollyIeventhankedGodthatmynamehadnotbeengiven.ThenextmorningIcamebeforethemagistrate,anddidnotdoubtthatJanehadkeptherword.There was nobody in the court who knewme. I was brought up under thename of Madge Benson and the elderly man from Clayneys went into thewitness-box andmade his statement. He said that his firm had been losingconsiderablequantities through shop-lifting, and thathehadevery reason tobelieveIwasanoldhand.

"Humiliatingasthisexperiencewas,Ididnotforonemomentdoubtthatthemagistratewould find someexcuse formeanddischargeme.The shameofthatmomentasIstoodthereinthedock,withthecuriouscrowdsneeringatme! I cannot even speak of it to-day without my cheeks burning. Themagistratelistenedinsilence,andpresentlyhelookedatmeoverhisglassesandIwaited.

"'Therehasbeen toomuchof thissortof thinggoingon,' saidhe, 'andIamgoingtomakeanexampleofyou.Youwillgotoprisonwithhardlabourforonemonth.'

"The court, themagistrate, the people, everything and everybody seemed tofadeout,andwhenIcametomyselfIwassittinginacellwiththejailer'swifeforcingwaterbetweenmyteeth.Janehadbetrayedme.Shehadliedwhenshesaid she would go to the magistrate, but her greatest crime had yet to becommitted.

"IhadbeenafortnightinHollowayGaolwhenshecametovisitme.Iwasnotastrongwomanandtheyputmetoworkwithseveralotherprisonersinashedwhere the prison authorities were making experiments with dyes. Youprobablydon'tknowmuchaboutprisons,"shesaid,"butineverycountygaolthroughEngland theymake an attempt to keep the prisoners occupiedwithsome one trade. In Maidstone the printing is done for all the prisons inEngland—IlearntalotaboutthingswhenIwasinsideHolloway!InSheptonMallettheprisonersweave.InExetertheymakeharness.InManchestertheyweavecotton,andsoon.

"TheGovernmentwere thinkingofmakingoneof theprisonsadye-works.WhenIcametothelittleinterview-roomtoseeJaneGroat,Ihadforgottentheworkthathadstainedbothmyhands,anditwasnotuntilIsawherstartingatthehandsgrippingthebarsthatIrealizedthattheprisonhadplaceduponmeamarkwhichonlytimewoulderadicate.

"'May,look!'shestammered.'Yourhandsareblue!'

"Myhandswereblue,"saidLadyMarybitterly."TheBlueHandbecamethe

symboloftheinjusticethiswomanhadworked.

"Ididnotreproachher.Iwastoodepressed,toobrokentotauntherwithhermeanness and treachery. But she promised eagerly that she would tell myhusbandthetruth,andtoldmethatthebabywasbeingtakencareof,andthatshehadsentitwithherownmaidtoMargate.Shewouldhavekeptthebabyatherownhouse, shesaid,andprobablywith truth,but she feared thepeople,seeingthebaby,wouldwonderwhereIwas.Ifthebabywasoutoftown,Itoomightbeoutoftown.

"And thenoccurred that terribleaccident that sent,as Ibelieved,mydarlingbabytoahorribledeath.JaneGroatsawtheadvantagewhichthedeathgaveto her. She had discovered in some underhand fashion the terms of myhusband'swill, termswhichwere unknown tome at the time. ThemomentDorothywasgoneshewenttohimwiththestorythatIhadbeenarrestedandconvicted for shop-lifting, and that the baby, whom it was my business toguard,hadbeenlefttotheneglectfulcareofaservantandwasdead.

"TheshockkilledJonathan.Hewasfounddeadinhisstudyafterhissisterhadleft him. The day before I came out of prison I received a note from Janetellingme boldlywhat had happened. Shemade no attempt to break tomegentlythenewsofmydarlingbaby'sdeath.ThewholeletterwasdesignedtoproduceonmethefataleffectthathernewshadproducedonpoorJonathan.HappilyIhadsomemoneyandthepropertyintheCity,whichmyhusband,inamomentofgenerosity,whichIamsureheneverceasedtoregret,hadgiventome.Atmyfather'ssuggestionIturnedthisintoalimitedliabilitycompany,thesharesofwhichwereheld,andarestillheld,bymyfather'slawyer.

"Soonaftermy releasemy father inheritedaconsiderable fortune,whichonhisdeathcametome.WiththatmoneyIhavesearchedtheworldfornewsofDorothy, news which has always evaded me. The doubt in my mind as towhether Dorothy was dead or not concentrated on my mistrust of Jane. Ibelieved,wrongly, as I discovered, that Jane knewmygirliewas alive.TheBlueHandwasdesignedtoterrorizeherintoaconfession.Asithappened,itonlyterrorizedtheonepersonintheworldIdesiredtomeet—mydaughter!"

Salter had listened in silence to the recital of this strange storywhichLadyMaryhadtotell.

"Thatclearsupthelastmystery,"hesaid.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

EUNICE woke and, opening her eyes, tried hard to remember what hadhappened.Her last clear recollectionwas of her room inGrosvenorSquare.Thelastperson—sheshiveredassherecalledthemoment—wasDigbyGroat,andhewascomingtowardsher—shesatupinbedandreeledwiththepaininherhead.Wherewasshe?Shelookedround.Theroomwasmeanlyfurnished,a heavy green blind had been drawn over the small window, but therewasenoughlightintheroomtorevealtheshabbywardrobe,thecommonironbedonwhichshelay,thecheapwashstandandthethreadbarecarpetthatcoveredthefloor.

Shewas fullydressedand feelinghorriblygrimy.Shealmostwishedat thatmomentshewasbackinGrosvenorSquare,withits luxuriousbathroomanditsstingingshower-baths.

Butwherewasshe?Shegotoffthebed,and,staggeringacrosstheroom,shepulledasidetheblind.Shelookedoutuponthebacksofdrabbuildings.ShewasinLondon,then.OnlyLondoncouldprovidethatview.Shetriedtoopenthe door—it was locked, and as she turned the handle she heard footstepsoutside.

"Goodmorning,"saidDigbyGroat,unlockingthedoor.

At first she did not recognize him in his chauffeur uniform andwithout hismoustache.

"You?"shesaidinhorror."WhereamI?Whyhaveyoubroughtmehere?"

"If I told youwhere youwere youwould be nowiser," saidDigby coolly."Andthereasonyouarewithmemustbefairlyobvious.Besensibleandhavesomebreakfast."

Hewaslookingatherwithakeenprofessionaleye.Theeffectofthedrughadnotwornoff,henoticed, and shewasnot likely togivehimagreatdealoftrouble.

Her throat was parched and she was ravenously hungry. She sipped at thecoffeehehadmade,andallthetimehereyesdidnotleavehis.

"I'llmakeacleanbreastofit,"hesaidsuddenly."Thefactis,IhavegotintoveryserioustroubleanditisnecessarythatIshouldgetaway."

"FromGrosvenorSquare?"Sheopenedhereyeswideinastonishment."Aren'tyougoingbacktoGrosvenorSquare?"

Hesmiled.

"Itishardlylikely."hesaidsarcastically;"yourfriendSteele—"

"Ishethere?"shecriedeagerly,claspingherhands."Oh,tellme,please."

"Ifyouexpectmetosingyourlover'spraisesyou'regoingtogetajar!"saidDigby,withoutheat."Noweatsomefoodandshutup."Histonewasquietbutmenacing,andshethoughtitbestnottoirritatehim.

Shewasonlybeginningtounderstandherownposition.Digbyhadrunawayand taken her with him. Why did she go? she wondered. He must havedrugged her! And yet—she remembered the hypodermic syringe andinstinctivelyrubbedherarm.

Digby saw the gesture and could almost read her thoughts.How lovely shewas, he mused. No other woman in the world, after her experience ofyesterday,couldfacethecoldmorningclear-eyedandflawlessasshedid.Theearlylightwasalwayskindtoher,heremembered.Thebrightnessofhersofteyeswas undiminished, untarnishedwas the clarity of her complexion. Shewas a thing of delight, a joy to the eye, even of this connoisseur of beauty,whowasnoteasilymovedbymereloveliness.

"Eunice,"hesaid,"Iamgoingtomarryyou."

"Marryme,"shesaid,startled."Ofcourse,youwilldonothingofthekind,Mr.Groat.Idon'twanttomarryyou."

"Thatisquiteunimportant,"saidDigby,andleaningforwardoverthetable,helowered his voice. "Eunice, do you realizewhat I am offering you and thealternative?"

"Iwillnotmarryyou," sheansweredsteadily, "andno threatyoumakewillchangemymind."

Hiseyesdidnotleavehers.

"DoyourealizethatIcanmakeyougladtomarryme,"hesaid,choosinghiswordsdeliberately,"andthatIwillstopatnothing—nothing?"

Shemadenoreply,buthesawhercolourchange.

"Nowunderstandme,mydear,onceandforall.ItisabsolutelynecessarythatIshouldmarryyou,andyoucaneitheragreetoaceremonyoryoucantaketheconsequence,andyouknowwhatthatconsequencewillbe."

Shehadrisentoherfeetandwaslookingdownathim,andinhereyeswasacontemptwhichwouldhavewiltedanyothermanthanhe.

"Iaminyourpower,"shesaidquietly,"andyoumustdowhatyouwill,butconsciously Iwillnevermarryyou.Youwereable todrugmeyesterday, sothat I cannot rememberwhat happenedbetweenmy leavingyourhouse andmy arrival in this wretched place, and possibly you can produce a similarcondition,butsoonerorlater,DigbyGroat,youwillpayforallthewrongthatyouhavedonetotheworld.IfIamamongst theinjuredpeoplewhowillbeavenged,thatisGod'swill."

Sheturnedtoleavetheroom,buthewasatthedoorbeforeherandpulledherarmviolentlytowardshim.

"Ifyouscream,"hesaid,"Iwillchokethelifeoutofyou."

Shelookedathimwithcontempt.

"Ishallnotscream."

Nordidsheevenwincewhenthebrightneedlepassedunder theskinofherforearm.

"Ifanythinghappenstome,"shesaidinavoicescarcelyaboveawhisper,"Iwillkillmyselfinyourpresence,andwithsomeweaponofyours."Hervoicefadedawayandhewatchedher.

Forthefirsttime,hewasafraid.Shehadtouchedhimonasensitivepoint—hisownpersonalsafety.Sheknew.Whathadput that idea intoherhead,hewondered,ashewatched thecolourcomeandgounder the influenceof thedrug?Andshewoulddoit!Hesweatedatthethought.Shemighthavedoneithere,andhecouldneverhaveexplainedhisinnocenceofhermurder.

"Phew!"saidDigbyGroat,andwipedhisforehead.

Presently,heletherhanddropandguidedhertoachair.

Again,herhandtouchedherarm,tenderly,andthen:

"Getup,"saidDigby,andsheobeyed."NowgotoyourroomandstaythereuntilItellyouIwantyou."

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX

THATafternoonhehadavisitor.Hewas, apparently, agentlemanwhowasanxioustorentagarage,andhemadeoneortwoinquiriesinthemewsbefore

he called at Digby Groat's temporary home. Those people who troubled toobservehim,noticedthathestayedaconsiderabletimewithinthisgarage,andwhenhecameoutheseemedsatisfiedwithhisnegotiations.HewasintruthVilla,whohadcomeinanswertoanurgentwire.

"Well,"saidDigby,"iseverythingready?"

"Everything is ready,dear friend," saidVillaamiably. "Ihave the threemenyouwant.Bronsonisone,FuentesandSilvaaretheothers;theyareknowntoyou?"

Digbynodded.Bronsonwasanarmyaviatorwhohadlefttheserviceunderacloud.Digbyhademployedhimoncebefore,tocarryhimtoParis—BronsonranapassengercarryingservicewhichDigbyhadfinanced.TheothertwoheknewasassociatesofVilla—Villahadqueerfriends.

"Bronsonwillbe ina field justoutsideRugby. I toldhim topretendhehadmadeafalselanding."

"Good," saidDigby. "Nowyouunderstand that I shallbe travellingnorth inthedisguiseofanoldwoman.AcarmustbewaitingamileshortofthestationandFuentesmustreachthelinewitharedhand-lampandsignal thetraintostop.WhenitstopshecanclearandbythattimeIshallbewellaway.IknowRugbywellandthissketch-mapwilltellyoueverything."HehandedasheetofpapertoVilla."ThecarmustbewaitingattheendofthelanemarkedB.ontheplan—thehouse—isitingoodcondition?"

"There's ahouseon theproperty," saidVilla, "but it is rather a tumbledownaffair."

"It can't beworse thanKennettHall," saidDigby. "Thatwill do splendidly.You can keep the girl there all night and bring her to Kennett Hall in themorning. I will be there to receive you. To-morrow afternoon, just beforesundown,wewilltakeourfinalflighttothesea."

"WhataboutBronson?"

"Bronsonwillhavetobesettledwith,"saidDigby."butyoucanleavethattome."

He had his own views about Bronson which it was not expedient at themomenttodiscuss.

"HowareyougoingtogettotheHall?"askedtheinterestedVilla.

"Youcan leave that tomealso," saidDigbywitha frown."Whyareyouso

curious?Iwilltellyouthismuch,thatIintendtakingonthecarandtravellingthroughthenight."

"Whynottakethegirlbythecar?"demandedthepersistentVilla.

"BecauseIwanthertoarriveatKennettHallbytheonlywaythatissafe.IftheHallisbeingwatched,thereisachanceofgettingawayagainbeforetheycloseinonus.No,Iwillbetherebeforedaybreak,andmakeareconnaissance.Inacase like this, I can trustnobodybutmyself, andwhat ismore.Villa, Iknowthepeoplewhoarewatchingme.Now,doyouunderstand?"

"Perfectly,my friend," saidVilla jovially; "as to that littlematter of sharingout—"

"Themoney is here," saidDigby, tapping hiswaist, "and youwill have nocausetocomplain.Thereismuchtobedoneyet—wehavenotseentheworstofouradventures."

ForEuniceWeldontheworstwas,forthemoment,asplittingheadachewhichmadeitanagonytoliftherheadfromthepillow.Sheseemedtohavepassedthroughthedayinaconditionwhichwasneitherwakefulnessnorsleep.Shetriedtorememberwhathadhappenedandwhereshewas,buttheeffortwassopainfulthatshewascontenttoliewithherthrobbinghead,gladthatshewasleftalone.SeveraltimesthethoughtofDigbyGroatcamethroughhermind,but he was so inexplicably confused with Jim Steele that she could notseparatethetwopersonalities.

Whereshewassheneitherknewnorcared.Shewaslyingdownandshewasquiet—thatsatisfiedher.Onceshewasconsciousofasharpstingingsensationin her right arm, and soon after shemust have gone to sleep again, only towake with her head racked with shooting pains as though somebody wasdrivingred-hotnailsintoherbrain.

At last itbecamesounendurable thatshegroaned,andavoicenearher—ananxiousvoice,shethought—said;

"Haveyouanypain?"

"Myhead,"shemurmured."Itisdreadful!"

She was conscious of a "tut" of impatience, and almost immediatelyafterwards somebody's armwas roundher neck and aglasswasheld toherlips.

"Drinkthis,"saidthevoice.

Sheswallowedabitterdraughtandmadeagrimaceofdistaste.

"Thatwasnasty,"shesaid.

"Don't talk,"said thevoice.Digbywasseriouslyalarmedat thecondition inwhichhefoundherwhenhehadreturnedfromavisitofreconnaissance.Hercolourwasbad,herbreathingdifficultandherpulsealmostimperceptible.Hehadfearedthis,andyethemustcontinuehis"treatment."

Helookeddownatherfrowninglyandfeltsomesatisfactionwhenhesawthecolourcreepbacktothewax-likeface,andfeltthethrobofthepulseunderhisfingers.

As toEunice, the sudden release frompainwhichcamealmost immediatelyaftershehadtakenthedraught,wassoheavenlythatshewouldhavebeenonherkneesingratitudetothemanwhohadaccomplishedthemiracle,andwithrelieffrompaincamesleep.

Digbyheavedasighofreliefandwentbacktohiswork.Itwasverypleasantworkforhim,forthetablewascoveredwithlittlepackagesoffivethousanddollar gold bills, for he had been successful in drawing the funds of theThirteenandexchangingthemforAmericanmoney.Hedidnotwant tofindhimself in Brazil with a wad of English notes which he could not changebecausethenumbershadbeennotified.

Hisworkfinished,hestrappedthebeltabouthiswaistandproceededleisurelytoprepareforthejourney.Agreywigchangedtheappearanceofhisface,buthewasnotrelyinguponthatdisguise.Lockingthedoor,hestrippedhimselfofhisclothesandbegantodressdeliberatelyandcarefully.

Itwasnearlyeighto'clockthatnightwhenEunicereturnedtoconsciousness.Beyond an unquenchable thirst, she felt no distress. The room was dimlyilluminatedbyasmalloil-lampthatstoodonthewashstand,andthefirstthingthatattractedhereye,aftershehaddrunklongandeagerlyfromtheglassofwater thatstoodon the tableby thesideof thebed,wasabeautifuleveningdress of silver tissuewhich hung over the back of the chair. Then she sawpinnedto thesideof thepillowacard.Itwasnotexactly thesameshadeofgreythatDigbyandshehadreceivedintheearlystagesoftheiracquaintance.Digbyhadfailed tofind therightcolour inhissearchat the localstationers,but he had very carefully imitated the pen-print with which the mysteriouswomaninblackhadcommunicatedherwarnings,andthegirlreadingatfirstwithoutunderstandingandthenwithawildlybeatingheart,themessageofthecardsawhersafelyassured.

"Dressintheclothesyouwillfindhere,andifyouobeymewithoutquestionI

willsaveyoufromanignominiousfate.Iwillcallforyoubutyoumustnotspeaktome.WearegoingtothenorthinordertoescapeDigbyGroat."

ThemessagewassignedwitharoughdrawingoftheBlueHand.

Shewastremblingineverylimb,fornowtheeventsofthepastfewdayswereslowlyloomingthroughthefogwithwhichthedrugshadcloudedherbrain.ShewasinthepowerofDigbyGroat,andthemysteriouswomaninblackwascoming to her rescue. It did not seem possible. She stood up and almostcollapsed, for her head was humming and her knees seemed incapable ofsustaining her weight. She held on to the head of the bedstead for severalminutesbeforeshedaredbegintodress.

She forgot her raging thirst, almost forgot her weakness, as with tremblinghands she fastened the beautiful dress about her and slipped on the silkstockingsandsatinshoes.Whydidthemysteriouswomaninblackchoosethisconspicuous dress, she wondered, if she feared that Digby Groat would bewatching for her? She could not think consecutively. She must trust herrescuerblindly,she thought.Shedidherhairbefore the tinymirrorandwasshocked toseeher face.Abouthereyesweregreatdarkcircles;shehad theappearanceofonewhowasinawastingsickness.

"I'mgladJimcan'tseeyou,EuniceWeldon,"shesaid,andthethoughtofJimactedasatonicandaspur.

Herman!Howshehadhurthim.Shestoppedsuddenlyintheactofbrushingherhair.Sherememberedtheirlastinterview.JimsaidshewasthedaughterofLadyMaryDanton!Itcouldn'tbetrue,andyetJimhadsaidit,andthatgaveitauthoritybeyondquestion.Shestaredatherreflection,andthentheeffortofthoughtmadeherheadwhirlagainandshesatdown.

"Imustn't think,Imustn't think,"shemuttered,andyet thoughtsanddoubts,questionsandspeculations,crowdedinuponher.LadyMaryDantonwashermother!ShewasthewomanwhohadcomeintoJim'sflat.Therewasatapatthe door and she started.Was it DigbyGroat? Digbywho had brought herhere?

"Comein,"shesaidfaintly.

The door opened but the visitor did not enter, and she saw, standing on thelittle landing, a woman in black, heavily veiled, who beckoned to her tofollow.Sheroseunsteadilyandmovedtowardsher.

"Wherearewegoing?"sheasked,andthen,"Thankyou,thankyouathousandtimes,forallyouaredoingforme!"

Thewomanmadenoreply,butwalkeddownthestairs,andEunicewentafterher.

Itwasadarknight;rainwasfallingheavilyandthemewswasdesertedexceptforthetaxi-cabwhichwasdrawnupatthedoor.ThewomanopenedthedoorofthecabandfollowedEuniceintoitsdarkinterior.

"Youmustnotaskquestions,"shewhispered."There isahoodtoyourcoat.Pullitoveryourhead."

Whatdiditmean?Eunicewondered.

Shewassafe,butwhyweretheygoingoutofLondon?PerhapsJimawaitedher at the end of the journey and the danger was greater than she hadimagined. Whither had Digby Groat gone, and how had this mysteriouswoman inblackgothimoutof theway?Sheputherhand toherhead.Shemustwait.Shemusthavepatience.Allwouldberevealedtoheringoodtime—andshewouldseeJim!

Thetwopeoplewhowereinterestedinthedepartureoftheeleven-forty-fivetrainforthenorth,didnotthinkitwasunusualtoseeagirlineveningdress,accompanied by a woman in mourning, take their places in a reservedcompartment. Itwasa trainverypopularwith thosevisitors toLondonwhowantedtoseeatheatrebeforetheyleft,andthedetectivewhowaswatchingonthedepartureplatform,scrutinizingeverymanwhowasaccompaniedbyawoman,gavenoattentiontothegirlineveningdressand,astheythought,hermother.Perhapsifshehadnotbeensoattired, theymighthavelookedmoreclosely—DigbyGroatwasagreatstudentofhumannature.

LadyMary, inherrestlessness,hadcometoEustontosupplementthewatchof the detectives, and had passed every carriage and its occupants underreviewjustbeforeEunicehadtakenherseat.

"Sitinthecorner,"whisperedthe"woman,""anddonotlookattheplatform.IamafraidGroatwillbeonthelook-outforme."

The girl obeyed and Lady Mary, walking back, seeing the young girl ineveningdress,whosefacewashiddenfromher,neverdreamtofmakinganycloser inspection.Thedetectivestrolledalong theplatformwithher towardstheentrance.

"Iamafraidtherewillbenomoretrainsto-night,mylady,"saidthebeardedofficer,andshenodded."Ishouldthinkthey'veleftbymotor-car."

"Everyroadiswatchednow,"saidLadyMaryquietly,"anditisimpossibleforthemtogetoutofLondonbyroad."

Atthemomentthetrain,withashrillwhistle,begantomoveslowlyoutofthestation.

"MayIlooknow?"saidEunice,andthe"woman"inblacknodded.

Euniceturnedherheadtotheplatformandthenwithacry,startedup.

"Why,why,"shecriedwildly,"thereisMrs.Fane—LadyMary,mymother!"

Another instant, and shewas dragged back to her seat, and a hateful voicehissedinherear;"Sitdown!"The"woman"inblacksnappeddowntheblindandraised"her"veil.ButEuniceknewthatitwasDigbyGroatbeforeshesawtheyellowfaceoftheman.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN

THErecognitionhadbeenmutual.LadyMaryhadseenthatwhiteface,thosestaring eyes, for a second, and then the train had rolled quickly past her,leavinghermomentarilyparalysed.

"There,there!"shegasped,pointing."Stopthetrain!"

Thedetectivelookedround.Therewasnoofficialinsight,andhetorebacktothebarriers,followedbyLadyMary.Hecoulddiscovernobodywithauthoritytoact.

"I'llfindthestation-master,"hecried."Canyoutelephoneanywhere?"

TherewasatelephoneboothwithinafewyardsandherfirstthoughtwasofJim.

Jimwas sitting in his room, his head in his hands,when the telephone bellrang,andhewentlistlesslytoanswerthecall.ItwasLadyMaryspeaking.

"Eunice is on the northern train that has just left the station," she said,speakingrapidly."WearetryingtostopitatWillesden,butIamafraiditwillbeimpossible.Oh,forGod'ssakedosomething,Jim!"

"Onthenortherntrain?"hegasped."Howlonghasitleft?"

"Afewsecondsago...."

He dropped the receiver, threw open the door and ran downstairs. In thatmomenthisdecisionhadbeentaken.Likeaflashtherehadcomebacktohis

mind a sunny afternoon when, with Eunice at his side, he had watched adaringlittleboypullinghimselfacross thelinesbythetelegraphwirewhichcrossed the railway fromone side to theother.Hedarted into the courtyardandashemounted thewallhebeard the rumbleand roarof the train in thetunnel.

Itwouldbemovingslowlybecausethegradientwasastiffone.Fromwhichtunnelwoulditemerge?Thereweretwoblackopeningsanditmightbefromeither. Hemust risk that, he thought, and reaching up for a telegraphwire,swunghimselfoverthecoping.Thewireswouldbestrongenoughtoholdaboy.Would they support him?He felt them sagging and heard an ominouscreak from the post which was in the courtyard, but hemust risk that too.Handoverhandhewent,andpresentlyhesawwithconsternationthegleamofalightfromthefarthertunnel.Infrantichastehepulledhimselfacross.Therewasnotimeforcaution.Theengine,labouringheavily,hadpassedbeforehecameabovetheline.Nowhewasoverthewhite-toppedcarriages,andhislegswerecurleduptoavoidcontactwiththem.Heletgoanddroppedonhisfoot.Themovement of the carriage threw him down and he all but fell over theside,butgrippingtoaventilator,hemanagedtoscrambletohisknees.

Ashedid sohe saw thedanger ahead.The trainwas running intoa secondtunnel.Hehadonlytimetothrowhimselfflatonthecarriage,beforehewasallbutsuffocatedbythesulphurfumeswhichfilledthetunnel.Hewasontherighttrain,hewascertainofthat,ashelaygaspingandcoughing,butitwouldneedallhisstrengthtoholdhimselfinpositionwhenthedriverbegantoworkupspeed.

Herealized,whentheycameoutagainintotheopen,thatitwasraining,andraining,heavily.Inafewminuteshewaswetthrough,butheclunggrimlytohis perilous hold. Would Lady Mary succeed in stopping the train atWillesden? The answer came when they flashed through that junction,gatheringspeedateveryminute.

Thecarriagesrockedleftandrightandtherain-splashedroofswereassmoothasglass.Itwasonlybytwininghislegsaboutoneventilator,andholdingontotheother,thathesucceededinretaininghisholdatall.Butitwasforhersake.For the sake of thewoman he loved, he told himself,when utterwearinessalmostforcedhimtoreleasehisgrip.Fasterandfastergrewthespeedofthetrain,andnowinadditiontothemiserythestingingraincausedhim,hewasbombardedbyflyingcindersandsparksfromtheengine.

Hiscoatwassmoulderinginadozenplaces,inspiteofitssoddencondition,hiseyesweregrimedandsmartingwith thedustwhich therainwashed intothem,andtheagonyoftheattacksofcramp,whichwerebecomingmoreand

more frequent, was almost unendurable. But he held on as the train roaredthroughthenight,flashingthroughlittlewaysidestations,divingintosmokytunnels,andall the time rocking leftand right, so that it seemedmiraculousthatitwasabletokeeptherails.

Itseemedacenturybeforetherecamefromthedarknessaheadabewilderingtangleof redandgreen lights.Theywere reachingRugbyand the trainwasalready slowing. Suddenly it stoppedwith unusual suddenness and Jimwasjerked from his hold.Hemade awild claw at the nearest ventilator, but hemissedhisholdandfellwithathuddownasteepbank,rollingoverandover...anothersecond,andhefellwithasplashintowater.

The journeyhadbeenoneof terror forEuniceDanton.Sheunderstoodnowthe trick thathadbeenplayeduponher.DigbyGroathadknown shewouldnever leave willingly and had feared to use his dope lest her appearancebetrayedhim.Hehadguessedthatinhisdisguiseofthewomaninblackshewould obey him instantly, and now she began to understand why he hadchoseneveningdressforher.

"Whereareyoutakingme?"sheasked.

Hehaddrawntheblindsofthecarriageandwassmokingacigarette.

"IfIhadknownyouwouldaskthatquestion,"hesaidsarcastically,"Iwouldhave had a guide book prepared. As it is, you must possess your soul inpatience,andwaituntilyoudiscoveryourdestination."

Therewas only one carriage on the trainwhichwas not a corridor car, andDigby had carefully chosen that for his reservation. It was a local car thatwouldbedetachedatRugby,asheknew,andthepossibilityofaninterruptionwasremote.Onceortwicehehadlookeduptotheceilingandfrowned.Thegirl,whohad caught a scratching sound, as though somebodywas crawlingalongtheroofofthecarriage,watchedhimashepulleddownthewindowandthrustoutheadandshoulders.Hedrewinimmediately,hisfacewetwithrain.

"Itisafilthynight,"hesaidashepulleddowntheblindsagain."Now,Eunice,be a sensible girl. There areworse things that could happen to you than tomarryme."

"Ishouldliketoknowwhattheywere,"saidEunicecalmly.Theeffectofthedrughadalmostwornoftandshewasneartohernormalself.

"Ihave toldyoubefore," saidDigby,puffinga ringof smoke to theceiling,"thatifyourimaginationwillnotsupplyyouwithaworsealternative,youarea singularly stupid young person, and you are not stupid." He stopped.

Suddenlyhechangedhistoneand,throwingthecigaretteontotheground,hecameovertoherandsatbyherside."Iwantyou,Eunice,"hesaid,hisvoicetremblingandhiseyeslikefierystars."Don'tyouunderstandIwantyou?Thatyouarenecessarytome.Icouldn'tlivewithoutyounow.Iwouldsoonerseeyou dead, and myself dead too, than hand you to Jim Steele, or any otherman."Hisarmwasabouther,hisfacesoclosetohersthatshecouldfeelhisquick breath upon her cheek. "You understand?" he said in a low voice. "Iwouldsoonerseeyoudead.Thatisanalternativeforyoutoponderon."

"Thereareworsethingsthandeath."

"I'mgladyourecognizethat,"saidDigby,recoveringhisself-possessionwithalaugh.Hemustnotfrightenheratthisstageoftheflight.Therealdifficultiesofthejourneywerenotyetpassed.

AstoEunice,shewasthinkingquickly.Thetrainmuststopsoon,shethought,andthoughhekillhershewouldappealforhelp.Shehatedhimnow,withaloathing beyond description—seeing in him the ugly reality, and her soulshrank in horror from the prospect he had opened up to her. His realalternative she knew and understood only too well. It was not death—thatwouldbemerciful and final.Hisplanwas todegradeher so that shewouldneveragainholdupherhead,normeetJim'stendereyes.Sothatshewould,indesperation, agree to marriage to save her name from disgrace, and herchildrenfromshame.

Shefearedhimmorenowinhisgrotesquewomangarb,withthatsmileofhisplayinguponhisthinlips,thanwhenhehadheldherinhisarms,andhishotkisses rainedonher face. Itwas thebrainbehind thosedark eyes, the cool,calculatingbrain thathadplannedherabductionwith suchminutecare, thatshehadneverdreamtshewasbeingduped—thiswaswhatterrifiedher.Whatwashisplannow?shewondered.WhatschemehadheevolvedtoescapefromRugby,wherehemustknowthestationofficialswouldbelookingforhim?

LadyMaryhadseenherandrecognizedherandwouldhavetelegraphedtotheofficials tosearch the train.The thoughtofLadyMarystartedanewlineofspeculation. Her mother! That beautiful woman of whom she had beenjealous.Asmiledawnedonherface,asmileofsheerjoyandhappiness,andDigbyGroat,watchingher,wonderedwhatwasthecause.

Shepuzzledhimmorethanhepuzzledher.

"Whatareyousmilingat?"heaskedcuriously,andasshelookedathimthesmile faded from her face. "You are thinking that you will be rescued atRugby,"hebantered.

"Rugby,"shesaidquickly."Isthatwherethetrainstops?"Andhegrinned.

"You'rethemostsurprisingperson.Youareconstantlytrappingmeintogivingyou information," he mocked her. "Yes, the train will stop at Rugby." Helookedathiswatchandsheheardhimutteranexclamation. "Wearenearlythere,"hesaid,andthenhetookfromthelittlesilkbaghecarriedinhisroleofanelderlywomanasmallblackcase,andatthesightofitEuniceshrankback.

"Notthat,notthat,"shebegged."Pleasedon'tdothat."

Helookedather.

"Willyouswear thatyouwillnotmakeanyattempt toscreamorcryoutsothatyouwillattractattention?"

"Yes,yes,"shesaideagerly."Iwillpromiseyou."

Shecouldpromise thatwithsafety, for if thepeopleon theplatformdidnotrecognizeher,hercasewashopeless.

"Iwill take the risk,"he said. "I amprobably a fool, but I trust you. If youbetrayme,youwillnotlivetowitnessthesuccessofyourplans,myfriend."

CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT

SHEbreathedmorefreelywhenshesawthelittleblackcasedroppedintothebag,andthenthespeedofthetrainsuddenlyslackenedandstoppedwithsuchaviolentjerkthatshewasalmostthrownfromtheseat.

"Isthereanaccident?"

"Idon'tthinkso,"saidDigby,showinghisteethmirthlessly.Hehadadjustedhiswigandhisbonnetandnowhewaslettingdownthewindowandlookingoutintothenight.Therecametohisearsasoundofvoicesupthelineandavistaofsignallamps.Heturnedtothegirlasheopenedthedoor.

"Comealong,"hecommandedsharply,andshestoodaghast.

"Wearenotintheplatform."

"Comeoutquickly,"hesnarled."Rememberyoupromised."

Withdifficultysheloweredherselfinthedarknessandhisarmsupportedherasshedropped to thepermanentway.Stillclutchingherarm, theystumbled

and slid down the steep embankment and came presently to a field of highgrass. Her shoes and stockings were sodden by the rain which was fallingmoreheavilythanever,andshecouldscarcelykeepherfeet,butthehandthatgrippedherarmdidnotrelax,nordiditsownerhesitate.Heseemedtoknowtheway theyweregoing, though to thegirl itwas impossible to see a yardbeforeher.

Thepitilessrainsoakedherthroughandthroughbeforeshehadhalfcrossedthefield.SheheardDigbycurseashecaughthisfootinhisskirt,andatanyother tune she might have laughed at the picture she conjured up of thisdebonairman,inhiswoman'sdress.Butnowshewastooterrifiedtobeevenamused.

Butshehadthatcouragewhichgoeswithgreatfear.Thesoulcouragewhichrisessuperiortotheweaknessoftheflesh.

OnceDigbystoppedandlistened.Heheardnothingbutthepatteroftherainandthesilverysplashof thewateras it ranfromthebushes.Hesankonhiskneesand lookedalongtheground,striving togetaskyline,but therailwayembankment made it impossible. The train was moving on when the girllookedback, and shewonderedwhy it had stopped soprovidentially at thatspot.

"I could have sworn I heard somebody squelching through the mud," saidDigby."Comealong,thereisthecar."

Shecaught thefaintglimmerofa lightandimmediatelyafterwards they leftthe rough and soggy fields and reached the hard road, where walking wassomethingmoreofapleasure.

Thegirlhadlostoneshoeinherprogressandnowshekickedofftheother.Itwasnoprotectionfromtherain,forthethinsolewassoakedthrough,sothatitwasmorecomfortablewalkinginherstockingedfeet.

Thedistancetheyhadtraversedwasnotfar.Theycamefromtheside-laneontothemainroad,whereaclosedcarwasstanding,andDigbyhustledherin,sayingafewlowwordstothedriver,andfollowedher.

"Phew, this cursed rain," he said, and added with a laugh! "I ought not tocomplain.Ithasbeenaverygoodfriendtome."

Suddenly therewasagleamof light in thecar.Hehad switchedona smallelectriclamp.

"Whereareyourshoes?"hedemanded.

"Ilefttheminthefield,"shesaid.

"Damnyou,whydidyoudothat?"hedemandedangrily."Youthinkyouwereleavingaclueforyourlover,Isuppose?"

"Don'tbeunreasonable,Mr.Groat.Theyweren'tmyshoes,sotheycouldn'tbeverymuchofaclueforhim.Theywerewetthrough,andasIhadlostoneIkickedofftheother."

Hedidnotreplytothis,butsathuddledinacomerofthecar,asitranalongthedarkcountryroad.

Theymusthavebeentravellingforaquarterofanhourwhenthecarstoppedbeforea smallhouseandDigby jumpedout.Shewouldhave followedhim,buthestoppedher.

"Iwillcarryyou,"hesaid.

"Itisnotnecessary,"Eunicerepliedcoldly.

"Itisverynecessarytome,"heinterruptedher."Idon'twantthemarksofyourstockingedfeetshowingontheroadside."

He lifted her in his arms; it would have been foolish of her to have maderesistance,andshesufferedcontactwithhimuntilhesetherdowninastonepassageinahousethatsmeltdampandmusty.

"Isthereafirehere?"Hespokeoverhisshoulderstothechauffeur.

"Yes,inthebackroom.Ithoughtmaybeyou'dwantone,boss."

"Lightanother,"saidDigby.Hepushedopenthedoor,andtheblazefromthefirewastheonlylightintheroom.

Presently the driver brought in an oil motor-lamp. In its rays Digby was aludicrous spectacle. His grey wig was soaked and clinging to his face; hisdresswasthickwithmud,andhislightshoeswereinasdeplorableaconditionasthegirl'shadbeen.

She was in a very little better case, but she did not trouble to think aboutherselfandherappearance.Shewascoldandshiveringandcreptnearertothefire,extendingherchilledhandstotheblaze.

Digbywentout.Sheheardhimstillspeakinginhislowmumblingvoice,butthemanwhorepliedwasobviouslynotthechauffeur,thoughhisvoiceseemedtohavea faintly familiar ring.Shewonderedwhereshehadheard itbefore,andafterawhilesheidentifieditspossessor.Itwasthevoiceofthemanwhom

sheandJimhadmetcomingdownthestepsofthehouseinGrosvenorSquare.

PresentlyDigbycamebackcarryingasuitcase.

"Itisluckyforyou,myfriend,thatIintendedyoushouldchangeyourclotheshere,"hesaidashe threw thecasedown."Youwill findeverything in thereyourequire."

Hepointedtoabedwhichwasinthecorneroftheroom.

"Wehave no towels, but if you care to forgo your night's sleep, or sleep inblankets,youcanusethesheetstodryyourself,"hesaid.

"Yourcareformeisalmosttouching,"shesaidscornfully,andhesmiled.

"I likeyouwhenyouare like that,"hesaid inadmiration."It is thespirit inyouandthedevil inyouthatappeal tome.Ifyouwereoneof thosepuling,whiningmisses, all shocks and shivers, Iwouldhavebeendonewithyou alongtimeago. It isbecauseIwant tobreak that infernalprideofyours,andbecauseyouoffermeacontest,thatyoustandapartfrom,andabove,allotherwomen."

Shemade no reply to this, andwaited until he had gone j out of the roombefore she looked for some means of securing the door. The only method,apparently, was to place a chair under the door-knob, and this she did,undressingquicklyandutilizingthesheetasDigbyhadsuggested.

Thewindowswereshutteredandbarred.Theroomitself,except for thebedand the chair, was unfurnished and dilapidated. The paper was hanging infoldsfromthedampwalls,andtheunderpartofthegratewasfilledwiththeashes of fires that had burnt years before, and the smell of decay almostnauseatedher.

Was there any chance of escape? she wondered. She tried the shutteredwindow, but found the barswere so thick that it was impossible towrenchthemfromtheirsocketswithouttheaidofahammer.Shedidnotdreamthattheywouldleavethedoorunguarded,butitwasworthtrying,andshewaiteduntilthehouseseemedquietbeforeshemadeherattempt.

Steppingoutintothedarkpassage,shealmosttrodonthehandofVilla,whowaslyingasleepinthepassage.Hewasawakeinstantly.

"Doyouwantanything,miss?"heasked.

"Nothing,"shereplied,andwentbacktotheroom.Itwasuseless,useless,shethoughtbitterly,andshemustwaittoseewhatthemorrowbroughtforth.

Herprincipalhopelayinher—hermother.Howdifficultthatwordwastosay!Howmuchmoredifficult toassociateaname,thementionofwhichbroughtup the picture of the pleasant-facedwomanwho had been all that amothercouldbe toher inSouthAfrica,with thatgracious ladyshehadseen inJimSteele'sflat!

Shelaydown,notintendingtosleep,butthewarmthoftheroomandherowntirednessmadeherdoze.ItseemedshehadnotsleptmorethanafewminuteswhenshewoketofindVillastandingbyhersidewithahugecupofcocoainhishand.

"I'msorryIcan'tgiveyoutea,miss,"hesaid.

"Whattimeisit?"sheaskedinsurprise.

"Fiveo'clock.Therainhasstoppedanditisagoodmorningforflying."

"Forflying?"sherepeatedinamazement.

"Forflying,"saidVilla,enjoyingthesensationhehadcreated."Youaregoingalittlejourneybyaeroplane."

CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE

JIMSTEELEhadhadasnarrowanescapefromdeathashehadexperiencedin thewholecourseofhisadventurous life. Itwasnota river intowhichhetumbled,but adeeppool, thebottomofwhichwasayard thickwithviscidmud,inwhichhisfeetandlegswereheldasbyhiddenhands.

Struggleashedid,hecouldnotreleasetheirgrip,andhewasonthepointofsuffocationwhenhisgropinghandsfoundabranchofatreewhich,growingontheedgeofthepond,haddroopedonebranchuntilitsendwasunderwater.Withthestrengthofdespair,hegripped,anddrewhimselfupbysheerforceofmuscle.Hehadenoughstrengthlefttodraghimselftotheedgeofthepond,andtherehelay,oblivioustotherain,pantingandfightingforhisbreath.

Intheolddaysofthewar,hiscomradesoftheScoutSquadronusedtotickoffhis lives on a special chart which was kept in the mess-room. He hadexhausted the nine lives, with which they had credited him, when the warended,andallfurtherriskseemedtoanend.

"There go two more!" he gasped to himself. His words must have beeninspired,forashedrewhimselfpainfullytohisbruisedkneesheheardavoice

notadozenyardsaway,andthankedGodagain.ItwasDigbyGroatspeaking.

"Keepclosetomyside,"saidDigby.

"Iwill,"muttered Jim, andwalked cautiously in the directionwhere he hadheard the voice, but there was nobody in sight. The train, which had beenstationary on the embankment above—he had forgotten the train—began tomove,andintherumbleofitswheels,anysoundmightwellbedrowned.

Heincreasedhispace,butstillhedidnotcatchsightofthetwopeoplehewastracking.Presentlyheheardfootstepsonaroadway,butonlyofaman.

Theyhadreachedbettergoingthanthefield,thoughtJim,andmovedoverinthesamedirection.Hefoundthelane,andasheheardthefootstepsrecedingat the far end he ran lightly forward, hoping to overtake them before theyreached the car, the red rear-light of which he could see. The wheels weremovingashereachedtheopenroad,andhefeltforhisrevolver.Ifhecouldburstthereartyreshecouldholdthem.Jimwasadeadlyshot.Once,twice,hepressedthetrigger,buttherewasnomorethana"click,"asthehammerstruckthesoddencartridge,andbeforehecouldextractthedudandreplaceitthecarwasoutofrange.

Hewasachingineverylimb.Hisarmsandlegswerecrampedpainfully,buthewasnotdeterred.Puttingtheuselesspistolinhispocket,hesteppedoffatajog-trot,followinginthewakeofthecar.

Hewasamagnificentathleteandhehad,too,theintangiblegiftofclass,thatimponderablequalitywhichdistinguishesthegreatrace-horsefromthemerelygood.Itservedadoublepurpose,thisexercise.Itfreedthecrampedmuscles,itwarmedhischilledbodyanditclearedthemind.Hehadnotbeenrunningfortenminutesbeforehehadforgottenthatwithinthespaceofanhourhehadnearlybeenhurledtodeathfromtheroofofatrainandhadallbutchokedtodeathinthemuddydepthsofapond.

On,on,withouteitherslackeningorincreasinghispace,thesamesteadylop-lopping stride that had broken the heart of the Oxford crack when he hadbroughtvictorytothelight-bluesideatQueen'sPark.

It was half an hour before he came in sight of the car, and he felt wellrewarded,althoughhehadscarcelyglimpseditbeforeithadmovedonagain.

Whyhaditstopped?hewondered,checkinghispacetoawalk.Itmayhavebeentyretrouble.Ontheotherhand,theymighthavestoppedatahouse,oneofDigbyGroat'snumerousdepotsthroughthecountry.

Hesawthehouseatlastandwentforwardwithgreatercaution,ashehearda

man'svoiceaskingthetime.

Hedidnot recognize eitherVillaorBronson, for thoughhehadheardVillaspeak,hehadnoverykeenrecollectionofthefact."Whattodo?"murmuredJim.

Thehousewas easily approachable, but to rush inwith adefective revolverwouldhelpneitherhimnorthegirl.Ifthatinfernalpondhadnotbeenthere!He groaned in the spirit. That he was wise in his caution he was soon todiscover.SuddenlyamanloomedupbeforehimandJimstoppeddeadontheroad.Theman'sbackwastowardshim,andhewassmokingashewalkedupand down, taking his constitutional, for the rain had suddenly ceased. Hepassedsocloseasheturnedbackthat,hadhestretchedouthisbandtowardsthebushesunderwhichJimwascrouching,hewouldnothavefailedtotouchhim.

Inalittlewhilealowvoicecalled:

"Bronson!"

"Bronson!"thoughtJim."Imustrememberthatname!"

Themanturnedandwalkedquicklybacktothehouse,andthetwotalkedinatonesolowthatnotasyllablereachedJim.

Attheriskofdiscoveryhemusthearmore,andcreptuptothehouse.Therewasatinyporchbeforethedoorandunderthisthetwomenwerestanding.

"Iwill sleep in thepassage," said thedeep-throatedVilla. "Youcan take theotherroomifyoulike."

"Notme," said themancalledBronson. "I'd rather standby themachineallnight.Idon'twanttosleepanyway."

"Whatmachine?"wonderedJim."Wasthereanothermotor-carhere?"

"Willthebossgetthereto-night?"askedVilla.

"Ican'ttellyou,Mr.Villa,"repliedBronson."Hemightnot,ofcourse,butiftherearenoobstacleshe'llbeattheHallbeforedaybreak.Itisnotaverygoodroad."

AttheHall!InaflashitdawneduponJim.KennettHall!Thepileofbuildingswhich Mrs. Weatherwale had pointed out to him as the one-time ancestralhome of theDantons.What a fool he had been not to remember that placewhentheywerediscussingthepossiblesheltersthatDigbyGroatmightuse!

BothVilla andBronsonwere smokingnowand the fragrance of the formerman'scigarcametotheenviousJim.

"Shewon'tgiveanytrouble,willshe,Mr.Villa?"askedBronson.

"Trouble?" Villa laughed. "Not she. She'll be frightened to death. I don'tsupposeshe'severbeeninanaeroplanebefore."

So that was the machine. Jim's eyes danced. An aeroplane... where? Hestrained his eyes to beyond the house, but it was too dark to distinguishanything.

"Nothingfunnywillhappentothatmachineofyoursintherain?"

"Oh no," said Bronson. "I have put the sheet over the engines. I havefrequentlykeptheroutallnight."

Then you're a bad man, thought Jim, to whom an aeroplane was a living,palpitating thing. So Eunice was there and they were going to take her byaeroplanesomewhere.Whatshouldhedo?TherewastimeforhimtogobacktoRugbyandinformthepolice,but—

"WhereisFuentes?"askedBronson."Mr.G.saidhewouldbehere."

"He'salongtheRugbyRoad,"repliedVilla."Igavehimasignalpistoltoletus know in case they send a police-car after us. If you aren't going to bed,Bronson, Iwill, andyou canwait out here andkeepyour eyeopen for anydanger."

Fuenteswas in it, too, and his plan to get back to Rugbywould notwork.Nevertheless, the watchful Fuentes had allowed Jim to pass, though it waslikelythathewasnearertoRugbythantheplacewherehehadcomeoutontotheroad.Theymightnotgetthegirlawayonthemachineinthedarkness,butwhoknowswhatordersDigbyGroathadleftforherdisposalincasearescuewasattempted?Hedecidedtowaitnear,hopingagainsthopethatapolicemancyclistwouldpass.

VillastruckamatchtostartanewcigarandinitslightJimhadamomentaryglimpse of the two men. Bronson was in regulation air-kit. A leather coatreached tohiships,his legswereencased in leatherbreechesand top-boots.Hewasabouthisheight,Jimthought,asanideatookshapeinhismind.Whatan end to that adventure! Jim came as near to being excited as ever he hadbeeninhislife.

PresentlyVillayawned.

"I'mgoingtoliedowninthepassage,andifthatdamecomesout,she'sgoingtohaveashock,"hesaid."Goodnight.Wakemeathalf-pastfour."

Bronson grunted something and continued his perambulations up and downtheroad.Tenminutespassed,aquarterofanhour,halfanhour,andtheonlysoundwas thedrippingof theramfromthe trees,and thedistantclatterandrumbleofthetrainsastheypassedthroughRugby.

Tothenorthwerethewhitelightsoftherailwaysidingsandworkshops;tothewest,thefaintglowintheskymarkedthepositionofatown.Jimpulledhisuselesspistolfromhispocketandsteppedontotheroadway,crouchingdown,sothatwhenhedidrise,heseemedtotheastonishedBronsontohavesprungoutoftheground.Somethingcoldandhardwaspushedunderthespy'snose.

"Ifyoumakeasound,yousonofathief!"saidJim,"I'llblowyourfaceoff!Doyouunderstandthat?"

"Yes,"mutteredtheman,shiveringwithfright.

Jim'slefthandgrippedhiscollar.Theautomaticpistolunderhisnosewasalltooobvious,andFelixBronson,afearfulmanforwhomtheairalonehadnoterror,wascowedandbeaten.

"Whereisthebus?"askedJiminawhisper.

"Inthefieldbehindthehouse,"themanansweredinthesametone."Whatareyougoingtodo?Whoareyou?Howdidyougetpast—"

"Don'tasksomanyquestions,"saidJim;"leadtheway—notthatway,"asthemanturnedtopassthehouse.

"IshallhavetoclimbthefenceifIdon'tgothatway,"saidBronsonsullenly.

"Thenclimbit."saidJim,"itwilldoyougood,youlazydevil!"

Theywalkedacrossthefield,andpresentlyJimsawagracefuloutlineagainstthedarksky.

"Nowtakeoffyourclothes,"hesaidperemptorily.

"Whatdoyoumean?"demandedthestartledBronson."Ican'tundresshere!"

"I'msorrytoshockyourmodesty,butthat is justwhatyouaregoingtodo,"saidJim;"anditwillbeeasiertoundressyoualivethantoundressyoudead,asIknowfrommysorrowfulexperienceinFrance."

ReluctantlyBronsonstrippedhisleathercoat.

"Don'tdropitonthegrass,"saidJim,"Iwantsomethingdrytowear."

In the darkness Bronson utilized an opportunity that he had alreadyconsidered.Hishandstolestealthilytothehip-pocketofhisleatherbreeches,butbeforeitclosedonitsobjectiveJimhadgrippeditandspunhimround,forJimpossessedotherqualitiesofthecatbesidesitslives.

"Letme see that lethalweapon.Good," said Jim, and flung his own to thegrass. "I am afraidmine is slightly damaged, but I'll swear that yours is ingoodtrim.Now,offwiththoseleggingsandboots."

"Ishallcatchmydeathofcold."Bronson'steethwerechattering.

"Inwhichcase,"saidthesardonicJim,"Ishallsendawreath;butIfearyouarenotborntodieofcoldinthehead,butofashortsharpjerktoyourcervicalvertebra."

"Whatisthat?"askedBronson.

"ItisGermanforneck,"saidJim,"andifyouthinkIamgoingtostandheregivingyoulecturesonanatomywhilstyoudeliverthegoods,youhavemadeamistake—strip!"

CHAPTERFORTY

UNDERmenace of Jim Steele's pistol,Mr. Bronson stripped and shivered.Themorningwasraw,andtheclothesthatJiminhismercyhandedtothemantochangewerenotverydry.Bronsonsaidasmuch,butevokednosympathyfromJim.Hestoodshiveringandshakinginthewetclothes,whilsthiscaptorstrappedhiswristsbehind.

"Justliketheydowhentheyhangyou,"saidJimtocheerhimup."Now,mylad,Ithinkthishandkerchiefroundyourmouthandanearlydryspotunderahedgeisallthatisrequiredtomaketheendofaperfectnight."

"You'redamnedfunny,"growledBronsoninafury,"butoneofthesedays—"

"Don'tmakemesing,"saidJim,"oryou'llbesorry."

Hefoundhimaspotunderahedge,whichwasfairlydryandshelteredfromobservation,andthereheentertainedhisguestuntilthegreyintheskywarnedhimthatitwastimetowakeVilla.

Mr.Villawokewithacurse.

"Comeinandhavesomecocoa."

"Bringitouthere,"saidJim.Heheardthemanfumblingwiththelockofthedoorandraisedhispistol.

SomethinginsideJimSteelewhispered:"Putthatpistolaway,"andheobeyedtheimpulse,aswithprofithehadobeyedahundredothers.

Menwhofightintheairandwhowintheirbattlesinthegreatspacesoftheheavensarefavouredwithinstinctswhicharedeniedtotheothermortalswhowalktheearth.

HehadtimetoslipthepistolinhispocketandpullthegogglesdownoverhiseyesbeforethedooropenedandVillasleepilysurveyedhiminthehalf-light.

"Hullo, you're ready to fly, are you?" he saidwith a guffaw. "Well, I shan'tkeepyoulong."

Jimstrolled away from thehouse,pacing the roadasBronsonhaddone thenightbefore.

Whathadmadehimputthepistolaway?hewondered.Hetookitoutfurtivelyandslippedthecover.Itwasunloaded!

Heheardthemancalling.

"Putitdown,"hesaid,whenhesawthecupinhishand.

He drank the cocoa at a gulp, and making his way across the field to theaeroplanehepulledonthewaterproofcover,testedtheengineandpulledovertheprop.

Eunice had swallowed the hot cocoa and was waiting when Villa came in.What the day would bring forth she could only guess. Evidently there wassomereasonwhyDigbyGroatshouldnotwaitforher,andamongstthemanytheories she had formed was one that he had gone on in order to lead hispursuersfromhertrack.ShefeltbetternowthanshehaddonesincesheleftthehouseinGrosvenorSquare,fortheeffectofthedrughadcompletelygone,saveforatirednesswhichmadewalkingawearisomebusiness.Hermindwasclear, and the demoralizing tearfulnesswhich the presence ofDigby evokedhadaltogetherdissipated.

"Now,youngmiss,areyouready?"askedVilla.Hewas,atanyrate.Heworeaheavycoatanduponhisheadwasaskincap.This,withhishairyfaceandhisbroadstumpyfigure,gavehimtheappearanceofaRussianinwinterattire.

Whydidhewraphimselfupsoonawarmmorning?shewondered.Hecarriedanotherheavycoatinhishandandhelditupforhertoputon.

"Hurryup,Ican'twaitforyouallday.Getthatcoaton."

Sheobeyed.

"Iamready,"shesaidcoldly.

"Now,mydear,steplively!"

Jim,whohad takenhisplace in thepilot'sseat,heardVilla'sdeepvoiceandlookingroundsawthewomanheloved.

Shelookeddivinelybeautifulbythesideofthatsquat,beardedmanwhowasholdingherforearmandurgingherforward.

"Now,upwithyou."

He pushed her roughly into one of the two seats behind the pilot, and Jimdarednottrusthimselftolookback.

"I'll swing the prop. for you, Bronson," said Villa, making his way to thepropeller, and Jim, whose face was almost covered by the huge fur- linedgoggles,nodded.TheenginestartedwithasplutterandaroarandJimslowedit.

"Strapthelady,"heshoutedabovethesoundoftheengine,andVillanoddedandclimbedintothefuselagewithextraordinaryagilityforamanofhisbuild.

Jimwaiteduntilthebroadstrapwasbuckledaboutthegirl'swaist,andthenheletouttheenginetoitstopspeed.Itwasidealgroundfortakingoff,andtheplaneransmoothlyacrossthegrass,fasterandfasterwitheverysecond.Andthen,withatouchofthelever,Jimsettheelevatordownandthegirlsuddenlyrealized that thebumpinghad stoppedandall consciousmotionhadceased.TheScouthadtakentheair.

Eunicehadneverflowninanaeroplanebefore,andforamomentsheforgotherperilouspositioninthefascinationofhernewandwonderfulexperience.Themachinedidnotseemtoleavetheearth.Ratheritappearedasthoughtheearthsuddenlyrecededfromtheaeroplaneandwassinkingslowlyawayfromthem.ShehadawonderfulfeelingofexhilarationasthepowerfulScoutshotthrough the air at a hundred miles an hour, rising higher and higher as itcircledabovethefieldithadleft,amanoeuvrewhichsetVillawondering,forBronsonshouldhaveknownthewaybacktoKennettHallwithoutbotheringtofindhislandmark.

ButBronson,sofarfrombeingatthewheel,atthatmomentwaslyingboundhandandfeetbeneathabushinthefieldbelow,andhadVillalookedcarefullythroughhisfieldglasseshewouldnothavefailedtoseethefigureofthemanwearing Jim'smuddy clothes.Villa could not suspect that the pilotwas JimSteele, theairmanwhoseexploits in theabstracthehadadmired,butwhoselifehewouldnotatthismomenthavehesitatedtotake.

"It is lovely!" gasped Eunice, but her voice was drowned in the deafeningthunderoftheengines.

Theyweresoaringingreatcircles,andabovewerefloatingthescarvesofmistthattrailedtheirravellededgestothesun,whichtintedthemsothatitseemedtoherthesky'sclearbluewaslacedwithgoldentissue.Andbeneathshesawaworldofwonder:herewasspreadamarvellousmosaic,greenandbrownandgrey,each littlepatternrigidlydefinedbydarked lines, fenceandhedgeandwall. She saw the blood-red roof of house and the spread of silver lakesirregular inshape,and tohereye likegoutsofmercury thatsomeenormoushandhadshakenhaphazardontheearth.

"Glorious!"her lipssaid,but themanwhosatbesideherhadnoeyefor thebeautyofthescene.

Communication between the pilot and his passengers was only possiblethrough the little telephone, the receiver of which Jim had mechanicallystrappedtohisear,andafterawhileheheardVilla'svoiceasking:

"Whatareyouwaitingfor?Youknowtheway?"

Jimnodded.

HeknewthewaybacktoLondonjustassoonashesawtherailway.

Thegirllookeddowninwonderonthehugechequer-boardinterceptedbytinywhiteandblueribbons.

Theymustberoads,andcanals,shedecided,andthoselittlegreenandbrownpatcheswerethefieldsandthepasturesofWarwickshire.Howgloriousitwason this early summer morning to be soaring through the cloud-wisps thatflecked the sky,wrack from the storm that had passed overnight.And howamazinglysoothingwasthelonelinessofwings!Shefeltalooffromtheworldand all its meanness. Digby Groat was no more than that black speck shecould see, seemingly stationary, on thewhite tape of a road. She knew thatspeckwasamanandhewaswalking.Andwithinthatcirclealonewasloveandhate,desireandsacrifice.

ThenherattentionwasdirectedtoVilla.Hewasredinthefaceandshouting

something into the telephone receiver, something shecouldnothear, for thenoiseoftheengineswasdeafening.

ShesawthepilotnodandturntotherightandthemovementseemedtosatisfyVilla,forhesankbackinhisseat.

Littlebylittle,thenoseoftheaeroplanecamebacktothesouth,andforalongtime Villa did not realize the fact. It was the sight of the town which herecognizedthatbroughtthereceiverofthetelephonetohislips.

"Keep to the right, damn you, Bronson. Have you lost your sense ofdirection?"

Jimnodded,andagain themachinebankedover,only to returngradually tothe southerly course; but now Villa, who had directed the manoeuvre, wasalert.

"Whatiswrongwithyou,Bronson?"andJimheardthemenaceinhisvoice.

"Nothing,onlyIamavoidingabadaircurrent,"heanswered,andexaggeratedasthevoicewasbythetelephone,VilladidnotdreamthatitwasanybodybutBronsontowhomhewasspeaking.

Jimkeptasteadycoursewestward,andallthetimehewaswonderingwherehis destination was supposed to have been. He was a raving lunatic, hethought,not tohavequestionedBronsonbeforehe lefthim,but ithadneveroccurred to him that his ignorance on the subject would present anydifficulties.

HewasmakingforLondon,andtoLondonheintendedgoing.Thathadbeenhisplanfromthefirst,andnow,withoutdisguise,hebankedleft,acceleratedhisenginesandtheScoutliterallyleaptforward.

"Areyoumad?"ItwasVilla'svoiceinhisear,andhemadenoreply,andthenthevoicesanktoahiss:"Obeymyinstructionsorwecrashtogether!"

Thebarrelofanautomaticwasrestingonhisshoulder.Helookedround,andatthatmomentEunicerecognizedhimandgaveacry.

Villa shot a swift glance at her, and then leapt forward and jerked at Jim'sshoulders,bringinghisheadround.

"Steele!"heroared,andthistimethepistolwasunderJim'sear."Youobeymyinstructions,doyouhear?"

Jimnodded.

"Goright,pickupOxfordandkeepittoyourleftuntilItellyoutoland."

Therewasnothingforitnowbuttoobey.ButJimdidnotfear.HadthemanallowedhimtoreachLondonitmighthavebeenwellforallparties.AsVillawastakinganaggressiveline,andhadapparentlyrecognizedhim,therecouldbeonlyoneend to this adventure,pistolornopistol.Hehalf twisted inhisnarrow seat, and looked back at Eunicewith an encouraging smile, and thelook he saw in her eyes amply repaid him for all the discomfort he hadsuffered.

Butitwasnottolookathereyesthathehadturned.Hisglancelingeredforawhile on her waist, and then on the waist of Villa, and he saw all that hewanted to know.Hemustwait until themanput his pistol away; at presentVillaheldtheugly-lookingautomaticinhishand.TheypassedoverOxford,ablurofgreyandgreen,foramistlayuponthecity,makingitdifficulttopickoutthebuildings.

SoonJim'sattentionwasdirectedelsewhere.Oneofhisengineshadbeguntomiss and he suspected water was in the cylinder. Still, he might keep themachine going for awhile.A directionwas roared in his ear, and he bore alittlemorewest. It seemed that theenginedifficultyhadbeenovercome, forshewasrunningsweetly.Againheglancedback.ThepistolwastuckedinthebreastofVilla'sleatherjacket,andprobablywouldremaintheretilltheendofthejourney.Towaitanylongerwouldbemadness.

Eunice,watchingthescenebelowinawhirlofwonder,suddenlyfeltthenoseof theaeroplanedivedown,as though itwereaimingdirectly forearth.Sheexperiencednosenseoffear,onlyastartledwonder,forassuddenlythenoseoftheaeroplanecameupagainwitharushandtheskyseemedtoturntopsy-turvy.Therewasa tremendousstrainat the leatherbeltaboutherwaist,andlooking "down" she found shewas staring at the sky! Then shewas dimlyconscious of some commotion on her right and shut her eyes in instinctiveapprehension.Whensheopened themagainVillawasgone!Jimhad loopedtheloop,and,unpreparedforthisformofattack,Villa,whowasnotsecuredtothemachine,hadlosthisbalanceandfallen.Down,down,thetinyflyshapetwirled and rolled with outstretched arms and legs, tragically comic in itsgrotesqueness....

Jim turnedhisheadawayand this time swungcompletely round to thegirl,andshesawhislipsmoveandhiseyesglanceatthetelephonewhichthemanhadleft.

Shepickedupthemouthpiecewithtremblinghands.Somethingdreadfulhadhappened.Shedarenot lookdown:shewouldhave fainted if shehadmade

theattempt.

"Whathashappened?"sheaskedinaquaveringvoice.

"Villahasparachutedtotheground,"liedJimsoothingly."Don'tworryabouthim.He'snotinanydanger—inthisworld,"headdedunderhisbreath.

"But,Jim,howdidyoucomehere?"

"I'llhavetoexplainthatlater,"heshoutedback,"myengineismisbehaving."

Thistimethetroublewasmuchmoreserious,andheknewthatthejourneytoLondonhehadcontemplatedwouldbetoodangeroustoattempt.Hewasnotatsufficientheighttocommandanygroundhemightchoose,andhebegantosearchthecountrysideforalikelylanding.Aheadofhim,fifteenmilesaway,wasabroadexpanseofgreen,andapin-pointflickerofwhitecaughthiseye.It must be an aerodrome, he thought, and the white was the ground signalshowingthedirectionofthewinds.Hemustreachthathaven,though,hadhebeen alone, he would not have hesitated to land on one of the small fieldsbeneathhim.

Here the country is cut up into smaller pastures than in any other part ofEngland,andtolandononeofthosefieldswithitshighhedges,stiffandstoutstonewalls,wouldmeantheriskofacrash,andthatwasariskhedidnotcaretotake.

Ashegrewnearertothegreenexpansehesawthathehadnotbeenmistaken.The sheetwas obviously planted for the purpose of signalling, and a roughattempthadbeenmadetoformanarrow.Heshutoffhisenginesandbegantoglide down, and thewheels touched the earth so lightly thatEunice did notrealizethattheflightwasended.

"Oh, it was wonderful, Jim," she cried as soon as she could make herselfheard,"butwhathappenedtothatpoorman?Didyou—"

TherewasaflippantreplyonJim'slips,butwhenhesawthewhitefaceandthesorrowfuleyeshedecideditwasnotamomentforflippancy.He,whohadseensomanybettermenthanVilladieinthehighexecutionoftheirduty,wasnotdistressedbythepassingofablackguardwhowouldhavekilledhimandthegirlwithoutmercy.

HeliftedEuniceandfelthershakingunderthecoatshewore.Andsotheymetagaininthesestrangecircumstances,afterthepartingwhichshehadthoughtwasfinal.Theyspokenowordtooneanother.Hedidnotkissher,nordidshewantthatevidenceofhislove.Hisverypresence,thegripofhishands,eachwasadearcaresswhichthemeetingoflipscouldnotenhance.

"There'sahousehere,"saidJim,recoveringhisbreath."ImusttakeyouthereandthengoandtelegraphdearoldSalter."

Heputhisarmabouthershoulder,andslowlytheywalkedacrossthegrassesgemmed with wild flowers. Knee-deep they paced through the wondrousmeadowland, and the scent of the red earth was incense to the benedictionwhichhadfallenonthem.

"Thishousedoesn'tseemtobeoccupied,"saidJim,"anditisabigone,too."

He led the way along a broad terrace, and they came to the front of thebuilding.Thedoorstoodopen,andtheretheinvitationended.Jimlookedintoabigdrearybarnofahall,uncarpetedandneglected.

"Iwonderwhatplacethisis,"saidJim,puzzled.

Heopenedadoor that led from thehall to the left.The roomintowhichhewalkedwasunfurnishedandborethesameevidenceofdecayasthehallhadshown.Hecrossedthefloorandenteredasecondroom,withnootherresult.Thenhefoundapassageway.

"Isanybodyhere?"hecalled,andturnedimmediately.HethoughtheheardacryfromEunice,whomhehadleftoutsideontheterraceadmiringthebeautyoftheSomersetlandscape."Wasthatyou,Eunice?"heshouted,andhisvoicereverberatedthroughthesilenthouse.

Therewasnoreply.Hereturnedquicklybythewayhehadcome,butwhenhereached the terrace Eunice was gone! He ran to the end, thinking she hadstrolledbacktothemachine,buttherewasnosignofher.Hecalledheragain,at the topofhisvoice,butonly theechoesanswered.Perhaps shehadgoneintotheotherroom.Heopenedthefrontdoorandagainsteppedin.

As he did so Xavier Silva crept from the room on the left and poised hisloadedcane.Jimheardtheswishofthestickand,halfturning,tooktheblowshortonhisshoulder.Forasecondhewasstaggered,andthendrivingleftandrighttothefaceofthemanhesenthimspinning.

Beforehecould turn, thenooseofaropedroppedoverhisheadandhewasjerkedtotheground,fightingforbreath.

CHAPTERFORTY-ONE

WHILSTJimhadbeenmakinghissearchof thedesertedhouse,Eunicehad

strolledtotheedgeoftheterrace,and,leaningonthebrokenbalustrade,wasdrinking in thebeautyof thescene.Thinwraithsofmiststill lingered in thepurpleshadowsofthewoodsandlaylikefinestmuslininthehollows.Inthestillairtheblue-greysmokeofthecottagers'firesshowedabovethetree-tops,andthesunhadtouchedthesurfaceofastreamthatwoundthroughadistantvalley,sothatitshowedasathreadofbubblinggoldamidsttheverdantgreen.

Somebodytouchedhergentlyontheshoulder.ShethoughtitwasJim.

"Isn'titlovely,Jim?"

"Verylovely,butnothalfaslovelyasyou,mydear."

Shecouldhavecollapsedatthevoice.SwingingroundshecamefacetofacewithDigbyGroat,andutteredalittlecry.

"IfyouwanttosaveSteele'slife,"saidDigbyinalowurgenttone,"youwillnotcryout,youunderstand?"

Shenodded.

Heputhisarmroundhershoulderandsheshivered,but itwasnocaressheoffered.Hewasguidingherswiftlyintothehouse.Heswungopenadoorand,pushingherthrough,followed.

Therewasamanintheroom,atall,dourman,whoheldaropeinhishand.

"Wait,Masters,"whisperedDigby."We'llgethimashecomesback."HehadheardthefootstepsofJiminthehallandthensuddenlytherewasascuffle.

Euniceopenedherlipstocryawarning,butDigby'shandcoveredhermouthandhisfacewasagainstherear.

"RememberwhatItoldyou,"hewhispered.

Therewasashoutoutside,itwasfromXavier,andMastersdashedoutaheadofhisemployer.Jim'sbackwasturnedtotheopendoor,andDigbysignalled.ImmediatelytheropeslippedroundJim'sneckandhewaspulledbreathlesslyto the ground; his face grew purple and his handswere tearing at the cruelnoose.Theymighthavechokedhimthenandthere,butthatEunice,whohadstood for amoment paralysed, flew out of the room and, thrustingMastersaside,kneltdownandwithherowntremblinghandsreleasedthenooseaboutherlover'sneck.

"Youbeasts,youbeasts!"shecried,hereyesflashingherhate.

InaninstantDigbywasonherandhadliftedherclear.

"Ropehim,"hesaidlaconically,andgavehisattentiontothestrugglinggirl.For now Eunice was no longer quiescent. She fought with all her might,strikingathisfacewithherhands,strivingmadlytofreeherselfofhisgrip.

"You littledevil!"hecriedbreathlessly,whenhehad securedherwrists andhad thrustheragainst thewall.Therewasanugly redmarkwherehernailshadcaughthisface,butinhiseyestherewasnothingbutadmiration.

"That ishowI likeyoubest,"hebreathed."Mydear, Ihavenever regrettedmychoiceofyou!Iregretitleastatthismoment!"

"Releasemyhands!"shestormed.Shewaspantingpainfully,and,judgingthatshewasincapableoffurthermischief,heobeyed.

"WherehaveyoutakenJim?Whathaveyoudonewithhim?"sheasked,herwideeyesfixedonhis.Therewasnofearinthemnow.Hehadtoldherthathehadseenthedevilinher.Nowitwasfullyaroused.

"We have taken your young friend to a place of safety," saidDigby. "Whathappenedthismorning,Eunice?"

Shemadenoreply.

"WhereisVilla?"

Stillshedidnotanswer.

"Verygood,"hesaid."Ifyouwon'tspeakI'llfindawayofmakingyouryoungmanveryvaluable."

"You'dmakehimspeak!"shesaidscornfully."Youdon'tknowthemanyou'redealingwith.Idon'tthinkyou'veevermetthattypeinthedrawing-roomsyouvisitedduringthewar.TherealmenwereawayinFrance,DigbyGroat.Theywererunningtherisksyoushirked,facingthedangersyoufeared.IfyouthinkyoucanmakeJimSteeletalk,goalongandtry!"

"You don't know what you're saying," he said, white to the lips, for hercalculated insult had touched him on the raw. "I canmake him scream formercy."

Sheshookherhead.

"Youjudgeallmenbyyourself,"shesaid,"andallwomenbythepoor littleshop-girlsyouhavebrokenforyouramusement."

"Doyouknowwhatyou'resaying?"hesaid,quiveringwithrage."YouseemtoforgetthatIam—"

"Iforgetwhatyouare!"shescoffed.Thecolourhadcomebacktoherfaceandhereyeswerebrightwithanger."You'reahalf-breed,amanofnocountryandno class, and you have all the attributes of a half- breed. Digby Groat, athreatener of women and an assassin of men, a thief who employs otherthieves to take the riskswhilsthe takes the lion's shareof the loot.Aquackexperimenter,whoknowsenoughofmedicinestodrugwomenandenoughofsurgerytotortureanimals—Ihavenodoubtaboutyou!"

Foralongtimehecouldnotspeak.Shehadinsultedhimbeyondforgiveness,andwithanuncannyinstincthaddiscoveredjustthethingstosaythatwouldhurthimmost.

"Put out your hands," he almost yelled, and she obeyed, watching himcontemptuouslyasheboundthemtogetherwiththecravatwhichhehadtornfromhisneck.

Hetookherbytheshouldersand,pushingherfeetfromherungently,satherinacorner.

"I'llcomebackanddealwithyou,mylady,"hegrowled.

OutsideinthehallMasterswaswaitingforhim,andthebig,uncouthmanwasevidentlytroubled.

"Wherehaveyouputhim?"

"In theeastwing, in theoldbutler's rooms,"hesaid, illatease."Mr.Groat,isn'tthisabadbusiness?"

"Whatdoyoumean,badbusiness?"snarledDigby.

"I've never beenmixedup in this kindof thingbefore," saidMasters. "Isn'tthereachancethattheywillhavethelawonus?"

"Don'tyouworry,you'llbewellpaid,"snappedhisemployer,andwasgoingawaywhenthemandetainedhim.

"Beingwellpaidwon'tkeepmeoutofprison,ifthisisaprisonjob,"hesaid."Icomeofrespectablepeople,andI'veneverbeenintroubleallmylife.I'mwellknown in thecountry,andalthoughI'mnotverypopular in thevillage,yetnobodycanpointtomeandsaythatI'vedoneaprisonjob."

"You're a fool," said Digby, glad to have some one to vent his rage upon."Haven'tItoldyouthatthismanhasbeentryingtorunoffwithmywife?"

"Youdidn'tsayanythingaboutherbeingyourwife,"saidMasters,shakinghishead and looking suspiciously at the other, "and, besides, she's got no

wedding-ring.That'sthefirstthingInoticed.Andthatforeignmanhadn'tanyrighttostrikewithhiscane—itmighthavekilledhim."

"Now look here, Masters," said Digby, controlling himself, for it wasnecessary that theman should be humoured, "don't trouble your head aboutaffairsthatyoucan'tunderstand.ItellyouthismanSteeleisascoundrelwhohasrunawaywithmywifeandhasstolenalotofmoney.Mywifeisnotquitenormal, and I am taking her away for a voyage..." He checked himself."Anyway,Steeleisascoundrel,"hesaid.

"Thenwhynot handhimover to thepolice," said theuneasyMasters, "andbring him before the justices? That seems to me the best thing to do, Mr.Groat. You're going to get a bad name if it comes out that you treated thisgentlemanasroughlyasyoudid."

"Ididn'ttreathimroughly,"saidDigbycoolly,"anditwasyouwhoslippedtheroperoundhisneck."

"Itriedtogetitoverhisshoulders,"explainedMastershastily;"besides,youtoldmetodoit."

"You'dhavetoprovethat,"saidDigby,knowingthathewasontherighttrack."Nowlistentome,Masters.Theonlypersonwhohascommittedanycrimesofarhasbeenyou!"

"Me?"gaspedtheman."Ionlycarriedoutyourorders."

"You'dhave to prove that beforeyour precious justices," saidDigby,with alaugh, and dropped his hand on the man's shoulder, a piece of familiaritywhichcamestrangelytoMasters,whohadneverknownhisemployerinsuchanamiablemood."Goalongandgetsomefoodreadyfortheyounglady,"hesaid,"andifthereisanytrouble,I'llseethatyougetclearofit.Andhere."Heputhishandinhispocketandtookoutawadofnotes,pickedtwoofthemoutandpressedthemintotheman'shand."Theyaretwenty-poundbanknotes,myboy,anddon'tforgetitandtrytochangethemasfivers.Nowhurryalongandgetyourwifetofindsomerefreshmentfortheyounglady."

"Idon'tknowwhatmywife'sgoingtosayaboutit,"grumbledtheman,"whenItellher—"

"Tellhernothing,"saidDigbysharply."Damnyou,don'tyouunderstandplainEnglish?"

Atthreeo'clockthatafternoonahiredcarbroughttwopassengersbeforetheornamental gate of Kennett Hall, and the occupants, failing to secureadmission,climbedthehighwallandcametrudginguptowardsthehouse.

Digby saw them from a distance and went down to meet the bedraggledBronsonandthedark-skinnedSpaniardwhowashiscompanion.Theymetattheendofthedrive,andBronsonandhismaster,speakingtogether,madethesameinquiryinidenticalterms;

"WhereisVilla?"

CHAPTERFORTY-TWO

THE room intowhich Jimwas thrust differed little from those chambershehadalreadyseen,savethat itwassmaller.Thefloorboardswerebroken,andtherewereholesinthewainscotwhichheunderstoodlongbeforeheheardthescamperoftherats'feet.

Hewastrussedlikeafowl,hishandsweresotightlycordedtogetherthathecouldnotmovethem,andhisanklesropedsothatitwasnexttoimpossibletoleverhimselftohisfeet.

"Whatalife!"saidJimphilosophically,andpreparedhimselfforalong,longwait.

He did not doubt that Digby would leave immediately, and Jim faced theprospectofbeing leftalone in thehouse, tomakehisescapeordie.Hewasfully determined not to die, and already his busymind had evolved a planwhich he would put into execution as soon as he knew he was not underobservation.

ButDigbyremainedinthehouse,ashewastolearn.

An hour passed, and then the door was snapped open and Digby came in,followedbyamanatthesightofwhomJimgrinned.ItwasBronson,lookingludicrousinJim'sclothes,whichweretwosizestoolargeforhim.

"Theydiscoveredyou,did they,Bronson!"hechuckled. "Well,hereamIasyou were, and presently somebody will discover me, and then I shall becalling on you inDartmoor, some time this year, to see how you are goingalong. Nice place Dartmoor, and the best part of the prison is Block B.—centralheating,gas,hotwaterlaidon,andeverymodernconvenienceexcepttennis—"

"WhereisVilla?"askedDigby.

"Idon'tknowforafact,"saidJimpleasantly,"butIcanguess."

"Whereishe?"roaredBronson,hisfacepurplewithrage.

Jimsmiled,andinanotherminutetheman'sopenhandhadstruckhimacrossthe face, but still Jim smiled, though there was something in his eyes thatmadeBronsonquail.

"Now,Steele, there's no sense in your refusing to answer," saidDigby. "WewanttoknowwhatyouhavedonewithVilla.Whereishe?"

"Inhell,"saidJimcalmly."I'mnotawhaleontheology,Groat,butifmenarepunishedaccordingtotheirdeserts,thenundoubtedlyyourjovialpalisintheplacewherethebadmengoandthereislittleornoflying."

"Doyoumeanthatheisdead?"askedDigby,livid.

"I should think he is," said Jim carefully. "Wewere over five thousand feetwhen I looped the loop from sheer happiness at findingmyself once againwith a joy-stick in my hand, and I don't think your friend Villa had takencertainelementaryprecautions.Atanyrate,whenIlookedround,wherewasVilla?Hewasflyingthroughtheaironhisown,Groat,andmyexperienceisthatwhenamanstartsflyingwithouthismachine,thepossibilityofmakingagoodlandingisfairlyremote."

"Youkilledhim,"saidBronsonbetweenhisteeth,"damnyou!"

"Shutup,"snappedDigby."Weknowwhatwewanttoknow.Wheredidyouthrowhimout?"

"Somewhere around," said Jim carelessly. "I chose a deserted spot. I shouldhavehateditifhehadhurtanybodywhenhefell."

Digbywentoutoftheroomwithoutaword,andlockedthedoorbehindhim,anddidnotspeakuntilhewasbackintheroomwherehehadleftVillalessthanaweekbefore.Heshudderedashethoughtoftheman'sdreadfulend.

The two Spaniards were there, and they had business which could not bepostponed.Digbyhadhopedtheywouldrelyonhispromiseandwaituntilhehadreadiedaplaceofsafetybeforetheyinsistedonashare-out,buttheywerenotinclinedtoplacetoohighavalueupontheirchief'sword.Theirsharewasalargeone,andDigbyhatedthethoughtofpayingthemoff,butithadtobedone. He had still a considerable fortune. No share had gone to the othermembersofthegang.

"Whatareyourplans?"askedXavierSilva.

"I'mgoingtoCanada,"repliedDigby."Youmaywatchtheagonycolumnsof

thenewspapersformyaddress."

TheSpaniardgrinned.

"Ishallbewatchingforsomethingmoreinteresting,"hesaid,"formyfriendandIarereturningtoSpain.AndBronson,doeshegowithyou?"

Digbynodded.

It was necessary, now that Villa had gone, to take the airman into hisconfidence. He had intended leaving his shadow in the lurch, a fact whichBronson did not suspect.He sent the twomen into the grounds to give themachineanexamination,andJim,sitting inhisroom,heard thenoiseof theengineandstruggleddesperatelytofreehishands.Ifhecouldonlygetuptohisfeet!Allhiseffortsmustbeconcentrateduponthatattempt.

Presently thenoise ceased;XavierSilvawas a clevermechanic, andhehaddetectedthatsomethingwaswrongwithoneofthecylinders.

"Tuningup!"murmuredJim.

Sohehadmoretimethanhehadhopedfor.

Heheardasteponthestoneterrace,andthroughthewindowcaughtaglimpseofBronsonpassing.DigbyhadsentthemanintothevillagetomakejudiciousinquiriesastoVilla'sfate.

Curiouslyenough,thethreemenwhohadwatchedtheapproachingaeroplanefrom the terrace of Kennett Hall had been unconscious of Villa's doom,althoughtheywerewitnessesoftheact.TheyhadseentheloopintheskyandDigbyhadthoughtnomorethanthatBronsonwasshowingofftothegirl,andhadcursedhimroundlyforhisfolly.Villa'sbodymustbenearathand.Hownear,Bronsonwastodiscoveratthevillageinn.

Afterthemanhadleft,Digbywenttolookathissecondprisoner,andfoundherwalkingupanddowntheroomintowhichshehadbeenputforsafety.

"Didyoulikeyouraeroplanejourney,Eunice?"heaskedblandly.

Shedidnotreply.

"Ratherthrillingandexciting,wasn'tit?AndwereyouawitnesstothemurderofmyfriendVilla?"

Shelookedupathim.

"I don't remember that your friend Villa wasmurdered," she said, ready to

defendJimofanychargethatthismanmighttrumpupagainsthim.

Hereadherthoughts.

"Don'tworry aboutMr. Steele," he said dryly. "I amnot charging himwithmurder.Infact,Ihavenotime.Iamleavingtomorrownightassoonasit isdark,andyouarecomingwithmebyaeroplane."

Shedidnotanswerthis.

"I amhoping thatyouwon'tmindabrief immersion in the sea,"he said. "Icannotguaranteethatwecanlandonmyyacht."

She turned round. On his yacht! That, then, was the plan. She was to becarriedofftoayacht,andtheyachtwastotakeher—where?

Therewas a clatter of feet in the outer room and he opened the door. OneglanceatBronson'sfacetoldhimthathehadimportantnews.

"Well?"heaskedsharply.

"They've found Villa's body. I saw a reporter at the inn," said the manbreathlessly.

"Dotheyknowwhoitis?"askedDigby,andBronsonnodded.

"What?"askedDigby,startled."TheyknowhisnameisVilla?"

Againthemannodded.

"Theyfoundapaperinhispocket,areceiptforthesaleofayacht,"hesaid,andthroughtheopendoorwayEunicesawthemanshrinkback.

"Thentheyknowabouttheyacht?"

Thenewsconfoundedhimandshookhimfromhiscalm.If thepoliceknewabout the yacht his difficulties became all but insuperable, and the dangerwhichthreatenedhimloomeduplikeamonstrousoverwhelmingshape.DigbyGroat was not built to meet such stunning emergencies and he went all topiecesundertheshock.

Eunice,watchinghim through theopendoor, sawhis pitiable collapse. In asecondhehadchangedfromthecool,self-possessedmanwhohadsneeredatdangerintoababblingfretfulchildwhocursedandwrunghishands,issuingincoherentordersonlytocountermandthembeforehismessengerhadlefttheroom.

"KillSteele!"hescreamed."Killhim,Bronson.Damnhim—no,no,stay!Get

themachineready...weleaveto-night."

Heturnedtothegirl,glaringather.

"Weleaveto-night,Eunice!To-nightyouandIwillsettleaccounts!"

CHAPTERFORTY-THREE

HERheartsank,and itcame toher,with terrifyingforce, thathergreat trialwas near at hand. She had tauntedDigbywith his cowardice, but she knewthathewouldshownomercytoher,andunwillinglyshehadplayedintohishandsbyadmitting that sheknewshewas theheiress to theDanton fortuneandthatshehadknownhischaracter,andyethadelectedtostayinhishouse.

Thedoorwasslammedandlocked,andshewasleftalone.Latersheheardforthe second time the splutter and crash of the aeroplane's engines as theSpaniardtunedthemup.

Shemustgetaway—shemust, shemust!She looked roundwildly for somemeansofescape.Thewindowswerefastened.Therewasnootherdoorfromtheroom.HeronlyhopewasJim,andJim,sheguessed,wasacloseprisoner.

Digby lost no time.He dispatchedSilva in the car, telling him tomake thecoastasquicklyaspossible,andtowarnthecaptainofthePealigotobereadytoreceivehimthatnight.Hewroterapidlyacodeofsignals.Wheninsightofthe sea Bronson was to fire a green signal light, to which the yacht mustrespond.Aboatmustbeloweredontheshorewardsideoftheyachtreadytopickthemup.Afterthemessengerhadleftherememberedthathehadalreadygiventhesameorderstothecaptain,andthat itwashumanlyimpossiblefortheSpaniardtoreachtheyachtthatnight.

Digbyhadinhiscalmermomentsmadeotherpreparations.Twoinflatedlife-beltsweretakentotheaeroplaneandtested,signalpistols,landinglights,andotherparaphernaliaconnectedwithnightflyingwerestowedin thefuselage.Bronson was now fully occupied with the motor of the aeroplane, for thetroublehadnotbeenwhollyeradicated,andDigbyGroatpacedupanddowntheterraceofthehouse,fumingwithimpatienceandsickwithfear.

Hehadnottoldthegirltoprepare,thatmustbelefttotheverylast.Hedidnotwant another scene. For the last time he would use his little hypodermicsyringeandtherestwouldbeeasy.

Fuentesjoinedhimontheterrace,forFuenteswascuriousforinformation.

"DoyouthinkthatthefindingofVilla'sbodywillbringthemafterushere?"

"How do I know?" snapped Digby, "and what does it matter, anyway?Weshallbegoneinanhour?"

"Youwill," said the Spaniard pointedly, "but I shan't. I have nomachine tocarryme out of the country, and neither hasXavier, though he is better offthanIam—hehasthecar.Couldn'tyoutakeme?"

"It isutterly impossible," saidDigby irritably. "Theywon't behere to-night,andyouneedn'tworryyourself.Beforethemorning,youwillhaveputalongwaybetweenyouandKennettHall."

HespokeinSpanish,thelanguagewhichthemanwasemploying,butFuenteswasnotimpressed.

"Whataboutthatman?"Hejerkedhisthumbtothewestwing,andathoughtoccurredtoDigby.Couldhepersuadehishithertowillingslavetocarryoutafinalinstruction?

"Heisyourdanger,"hesaid."Doyourealize,mydearFuentes,thatthismancanbringusalltodestruction?Andnobodyknowsheishere,exceptyouandme."

"AndthatuglyEnglishman,"correctedFuentes.

"Mastersdoesn'tknowwhathashappenedtohim.Wecould tellhimthathewentwithus!"

Helookedattheotherkeenly,butFuenteswaspurposelystupid.

"Nowwhat do you say,my dear Fuentes," saidDigby, "shallwe allow thisman to live and give evidence against us, when a little knock on the headwouldremovehimforever?"

FuentesturnedhisdarkeyestoDigby's,andhewinked.

"Well,killhim,mydearGroat,"hemocked. "Donotaskme to staybehindandbefoundwiththebody,forIhaveawholesomehorrorofEnglishgaols,andanunspeakablefearofdeath."

"Areyouafraid?"askedDigby.

"Asafraidasyou,"saidtheSpaniard."Ifyouwishtokillhim,byallmeansdoso.Andyet,IdonotknowthatIwouldallowyoutodothat,"hemused,"for

youwouldbegoneandIshouldbeleft.No,no,wewillnotinterferewithourcourageous Englishman. He is rather a fine fellow." Digby turned away indisgust.

The "fine fellow" at thatmoment had, by almost super-human effort, raisedhimselftohisfeet.Ithadrequiredsomethingoftheskillofanacrobatandthesupplenessandingenuityofacontortionist,anditinvolvedsupportinghimselfwithhisheadagainst thewall foraquarterofanhourwhilsthebroughthisfeettothefloor;buthehadsucceeded.

Thedaywaswearingthroughandtheafternoonwasnearlygonebeforehehadaccomplishedthisresult.Histrainedeartoldhimthattheaeroplanewasnownearly ready for departure, and once he had caught a glimpse of Digbywearingalinedleatherjacket.Buttherewasnosignofthegirl.AstoEunice,he steadfastly kept her out of his thoughts. He needed all his courage andcoolness,andeventhethoughtofher,which,inspiteofhisresolution,flashedacrosshismind,broughthimagonizingdistress.

Hehoppedcautiouslytothewindowandlistened.TherewasnosoundandhewaiteduntilBronson—heguesseditwasBronson—startedtheenginesagain.Then with his elbow he smashed out a pane of glass, leaving a jaggedtriangular piece firmly fixed in the ancient putty. Carefully he lifted up hisboundhands,strainingattheropewhichconnectedthemwiththebondsabouthisfeet,andwhichwasintendedtopreventhisraisinghishandshigherthanthelevelofhiswaist.

By straining at the rope and standing on tiptoe, he brought the end of theconnectinglinkacrossthesharpjaggededgeoftheglass.Twostrokes,andtheropewassevered.Hishandswerestillboundandtocutthroughthemwithoutinjurytohimselfwasadelicateoperation.Carefullyhesawedaway,andfirstoneandthentheothercordwascutthrough.Hishandswereredandswollen,hiswristshadnopoweruntilhehadmassagedthem.

Hesnappedoffthetriangularpieceofglassandappliedittothecordsabouthis feet, and in aminute hewas free. Free, but in a locked room. Still, thewindow-sash should not prove an insuperable obstacle. There was nothingwhichhe coulduse as aweapon, but his handy feet smashed at the frames,only to discover that theywere of iron. JonathanDanton's father had had ahorror of burglars, and all the window-frames on the lower floor had beenmadeinafoundry.Thedoorwas theonlyegress leftanditwas toostout tosmash.

He listenedat thekeyhole.Therewasnosound.The lightwaspassingfromthe skyandnightwascomingon.Theywouldbe leaving soon,heguessed,

and grew frantic. Discarding all caution, he kicked at the panels, but theyresisted his heavy boots, and then he heard a sound that almost stopped hisheartbeating.

AshrillscreamfromEunice.Againandagainheflunghisweightatthedoor,but it remained immovable,and thencameashout fromthegroundoutside.Herantothewindowandlistened.

"Theyarecoming,thepolice!"

ItwastheSpaniard'sthrobbingvoice.Hehadrununtilhewasexhausted.Jimsaw in stagger past the window and heard Digby say something to himsharply.Therewasapatteroffeetandsilence.

Jimwipedthesweatfromhisforeheadwiththesleeveofhiscoatandlookedrounddesperatelyforsomemeansofgettingoutoftheroom.Thefireplace!Itwasabig,old-fashionedfire-basket,thatstoodonfourlegsinayawninggapofchimney.Helookedatit;itwasredwithrustandithadtheappearanceofbeing fixed, but he lifted it readily. Twice he smashed at the door and thesecondtimeitgaveway,anddroppingthegratewithacrashheflewdownthepassageoutofthehouse.

Asheturnedthecomerheheardtheroaroftheaeroplaneandaboveitsdronethesoundofashot.Heleaptthebalustrade,spedthroughthegardenandcameinsightoftheaeroplaneasitwasspeedingfromhim.

"MyGod!"saidJimwithagroan,forthemachinehadleftthegroundandwaszoomingsteeplyupintothedarkeningsky.

Andthenhesawsomething.Fromthelonggrassnearwherethemachinehadbeenahandrosefeeblyandfellagain.Heranacrosstowherehehadseenthisstrangesight. Ina fewminuteshewaskneelingby the sideofFuentes.Themanwasdying.Heknewthatlongbeforehehadseenthewoundinhisbreast.

"Heshotme,senor,"gaspedFuentes,"andIwashis friend... Iaskedhim totakemetosafety...andheshotme!"

Themanwas still alivewhen the police came on the spot; still alivewhenSeptimusSalter, inhiscapacityofJusticeofthePeace, tookdownhisdyingstatement.

"DigbyGroat shall hang for this, Steele," said the lawyer; but Jimmadenoreply.HehadhisownideaastohowDigbyGroatwoulddie.

CHAPTERFORTY-FOUR

THE lawyer explained his presence without preliminary, and Jim listenedmoodily.

"IcamewiththemmyselfbecauseIknowtheplace,"saidMr.Salter,lookingatJimanxiously."Youlookghastly,Steele.Can'tyouliedownandgetsomesleep?"

"IfeelthatIshallneversleepuntilIhavegotmyhandonDigbyGroat.Whatwasityousawinthepaper?Tellmeagain.HowdidtheyknowitwasVilla?"

"By a receipt in his pocket," replied Salter. "It appears that Villa, probablyactingonbehalf ofDigbyGroat, hadpurchased fromMaxilla, theBraziliangambler,hisyacht,thePealigo—"

Jimutteredacry.

"Thatiswherehehasgone,"hesaid."WhereisthePealigo?"

"ThatIhavebeentryingtofindout,"repliedthelawyer,shakinghishead,"butnobody seems to know. She left Havre a few days ago, but what herdestinationwas,nobodyknows.ShehascertainlynotputintoanyBritishportso far as we can ascertain. Lloyd's were certain of this, and every ship,whetheritisayacht,aliner,oracargotramp,isreportedtoLloyd's."

"Thatiswherehehasgone,"saidJim.

"Thenshemustbeinport,"saidoldSaltereagerly."Wecantelegraphtoeverylikelyplace—"

Jiminterruptedhimwithashakeofhishead.

"Bronsonwould landon thewaterandsink themachine. It isaverysimplematter," he said. "I have been in the seamany times and there is really nodanger,ifyouareprovidedwithlife-belts,andarenotstrappedtotheseat.Itisfoulluckyournotcomingbefore."

He walked weakly from the comfortable parlour of the inn where theconversationhadtakenplace.

"DoyonmindifIamaloneforalittlewhile?Iwanttothink,"hesaid.

Heturnedashewasleavingtheroom.

"In order not to waste time, Mr. Salter," he said quietly, "have you any

influencewiththeAdmiralty?Iwanttheloanofaseaplane."

Mr.Salterlookedthoughtful.

"Thatcanbefixed,"hesaid."Iwillgetontothe 'phonestraightawaytotheAdmiraltyandtrytogettheFirstSeaLord.Hewilldoallthathecantohelpus."

Whilst the lawyer telephoned,Jimmadeahastymeal.Thepacehad toldonhimanddespairwasinhisheart.

Theknowledge thatDigbyGroatwouldeventuallybebrought to justicedidnotcomforthim.IfEunicehadonlybeensparedhewouldhavebeencontenttoseeDigbymakehisescape,andwouldnothaveraisedhishandtostophimgoing.Hewouldhavebeenhappyevenif,ingettingaway,themanhadbeensuccessful in carrying off the girl's fortune. But Eunice was in his wickedhandsandthethoughtofitwasunendurable.

Hewasinvitedbythelocalpolice-sergeanttostepacrosstothelittlelock-uptointerviewthemanMasters,whowasunderarrest,andasMr.Salterhadnotfinishedtelephoning,hecrossedthevillagestreetandfoundthedourmaninaconditionofabjectmisery.

"I knew he'd bringme into this," bewailed, "andmewith a wife and threechildrenandnot somuchas apoachingcase againstme!Can't you speakawordforme,sir?"

Jim's sense of humour was never wholly smothered and the cool requestamusedhim.

"Icanonlysaythatyoutried tostrangleme,"hesaid."Idoubtwhether thatgoodwordwillbeofmuchservicetoyou."

"IswearIdidn'tmeanto,"pleadedtheman."Hetoldmetoputtheroperoundyourshouldersanditslipped.HowwasItoknowthattheladywasn'thiswifewho'drunawaywithyou?"

"Sothatisthestoryhetoldyou?"saidJim.

"Yes,sir,"themansaideagerly."IpointedouttoMr.Groatthattheladyhadn'tawedding-ring,buthesaidthathewasmarriedallrightandhewastakinghertosea—"

"Tosea?"

Mastersnodded.

"That's what he said, sir—he said she wasn't right in her head and the seavoyagewoulddoheralotofgood."

Jimquestionedhimcloselywithoutgettingany further information.Mastersknewnothingof thesteameronwhichDigbyandhis"wife"were tosail,ortheportatwhichhewouldembark.

OutsidethepolicestationJiminterviewedthesergeant.

"Idon'tthinkthismanwasanymorethanadupeofGroat's,"hesaid,"andIcertainlyhavenochargetomakeagainsthim."

Thesergeantshookhishead.

"Wemustholdhimuntilwehavehad the inqueston theSpaniard,"hesaid,and then, gloomily, "To think that I had a big case like this right undermynoseandhadn'tthesensetoseeit!"

Jimsmiledalittlesadly.

"Wehaveallhadthecaseunderournoses,sergeant,andwehavebeenblinderthanyou!"

ThethreatofareneweddoseofthedrughadbeensufficienttomakeEuniceacquiescent.Resistance,sheknew,wasuseless.Digbycouldeasilyoverpowerherforlongenoughtojabhisdevilishneedleintoherarm.

Shehadstruggledatfirstandhadscreamedatthefirstprickfromtheneedle-point.ItwasthatscreamJimhadheard.

"I'll gowith you; I promise you Iwill not give you any trouble," she said."Pleasedon'tusethatdreadfulthingagain."

Timewaspressinganditwouldbeeasiertomakehisescapeifthegirldidnotresistthanifshegavehimtrouble.

Thepropellerwastickingslowlyroundwhentheyclimbedintothefuselage.

"Thereisroomforme,senor.Theremustberoomforme!"

Digby looked down into the distorted face of the Spaniard who had comerunningafterhim.

"There is no room for you, Fuentes," he said. "I have told you before.Youmustgetawayaswellasyoucan."

"Iamgoingwithyou!"

ToDigby'shorror,themanclungdesperatelytothesideofthefuselage.Everymomentwasincreasingtheirperil,andinafrenzyhewhippedouthispistol.

"Letgo,"hehissed,"orI'llkillyou,"butstillthemanheldon.

Therewerevoicescomingfromthelowerpath,and,inhispanic,Digbyfired.HesawthemancrumpleandfallandyelledtoBronson:"Go,go!"

Eunice, a horrified spectator, could only stare at the thing which had beenDigbyGroat,forthechangewhichhadcomeoverhimwasextraordinary.Heseemed tohaveshrunk instature.His facewas twisted, likeamanwhohadhadastrokeofparalysis.

Shethoughtthiswasthecase,butslowlyhebegantorecover.

He had killed aman! The horror of this act was upon him, the fear of theconsequence which would follow overwhelmed him and drove him into amomentary frenzy. He had killed a man! He could have shrieked at thethought.He,whohadsocarefullyguardedhimselfagainstpunishment,whohadmanoeuvredhisassociates intodanger,whilsthehimselfstoodinasafeplace,wasnowafugitivefromajusticewhichwouldnotrestuntilithadlainhimbytheheel.

Andshehadseenhim,she,thewomanathisside,andwouldgointotheboxandtestifyagainsthim!Andtheywouldhanghim!Inthatbrick-linedpitofwhichJimSteelehadspoken.Allthesethoughtsflashedthroughhismindinasecond,evenbeforethemachinelefttheground,butwiththerushofcoldairandtheinevitableexhilarationofflight,hebegantothinkcalmlyagain.

CHAPTERFORTY-FIVE

BRONSONhad killed him, thatwas the comforting defence.Bronson,whowasnowguidinghimtosafety,andwhowould,ifnecessary,givehislifeforhim.Bronsonshouldbeartheonusofthatact.

Theywerewellupnow,and theengineswerea smooth "b-r-r"of sound.Anightwindwasblowingand theplane rockedfromside toside. Itmade thegirlfeelalittlesick,butshecommandedherbraintogrowaccustomedtothemotion,andafterawhilethefeelingofnauseaworeoff.

Theycouldseetheseanow.Theflashingsignalsofthelighthousescamefromleftandright.Bristol,atangleoffieryspots,laytotheirleft,andtherewere

tinygleamsoflightontheriverandestuary.

They skirted the northern shore of the Bristol Channel and headed west,following the coastline. Presently the machine turned due south, leavingbehind them the land and its girdle of lights.Twentyminutes laterBronsonfiredhis signalpistol.Aballofbrilliantgreen firecurvedupanddownandalmostimmediately,fromthesea,cameanansweringsignal.Digbystrappedthegirl'slife-belttighter,andsawtothefasteningofhisown.

"Fix my belt." It was Bronson shouting through the telephone, and Digby,leaning forward, fastened the life-belt about the pilot'swaist.He fastened itcarefullyandaddeda,stoutstrap,tyingthelooseendoftheleatherinaknot.Downwentthemachineinalongglidetowardthelightwhichstillburnt,andnowthegirlcouldseetheoutlinesofthegracefulyachtandthegreenandredlights itshowed.Theymadeacircle,cominglowerandlowereverysecond,untiltheywerespinningabouttheyachtnotmorethanadozenfeetfromthesea.Bronsonshutoffhisenginesandbroughtthemachineuponthewater,lessthanfiftyfeetfromthewaitingboat.

Instantly the aeroplane sank under them, leaving them in the sea. It was astrangesensation,thoughtthegirl,forthewaterwasunusuallywarm.

Sheheardashriekandturned,andthenDigbycaughtherhand.

"Keepclosetome,"hesaidinawhimperingvoice,"youmightbelostinthedarkness."

Sheknewthathewas thinkingofhimself.Alightflaredfromtheoncomingboat,andshelookedround.Inspiteofherself,sheasked:

"Whereistheman?"

Bronson was nowhere in sight. Digby did not trouble to turn his head oranswer.Hereachedupandgripped thegunwaleof theboatand inaminuteEunicewasliftedoutof thewater.Shefoundherself inasmallcutterwhichwasmannedbybrown-facedmen,whomshethoughtatfirstwereJapanese.

"WhereisBronson?"sheaskedagaininapanic,butDigbydidnotreply.Hesat immovable, avoiding her eyes, and she could have shrieked her horror.Bronson had gone down with the aeroplane! The strap which Digby hadfastenedabouthiswaist,hehadcunninglyattachedtotheseatitself,andhadfasteneditsothatitwasimpossibleforthepilottoescape.

Hewasthefirstupthegangwayontothewhitedeckoftheyacht,andturning,heofferedhishandtoher.

"WelcometothePealigo,"hesaidinhismockingvoice.

Thenitwasnotfearthathadkepthimsilent.Shecouldonlylookathim.

"WelcometothePealigo,mylittlebride,"hesaid,andsheknewthatthemanwhohadnothesitatedtomurderhistwocomradesincoldbloodwouldhavenomercyonher.

Awhite-coated stewardess came forward, and said something in a languagewhichEunicedidnotunderstand.Shegatheredthatthewomanwasdeputedtoshowherthewaytothecabin.GladtobefreefromtheassociationofDigby,shepasseddownthecompanion-way, throughalobbypanelledinrosewood,into a cabin, the luxury of which struck her, even though her nerves wereshattered,andshewasincapableoftakinganinterestinanythingoutsidetheterriblefactthatshewasaloneonayachtwithDigbyGroat.

Extravagancehadrunriothere,andtheBrazilianmusthavelavishedafortuneinthedecorationandappointments.

Thesaloonran thewidthof theshipandwasasdeepas itwasbroad.Lightwas admitted from portholes cunningly designed, so that they had theappearance of old-fashioned casement windows. A great divan, covered insilk,ranthelengthofthecabinononeside,whilsttheotherwasoccupiedbyasilverbedstead,hungwithrosesilkcurtains.Rose-shadedlightssuppliedtheillumination, and the lamps were fashioned like torches and were held bybeautifulclassicalfiguresplacedinnichesabouttheroom.

Shecametotheconclusionthatitwasawoman'sroomandwonderediftherewereanyotherwomenonboardbut the stewardess.Sheasked thatwoman,butapparentlysheknewnoEnglish,andthefewwordsinSpanishwhichshehadlearntdidnotservehertoanyextent.

Thesuitewascomplete,shediscovered,forbehindtheheavysilkencurtainsatthefarendof thecabintherewasadoorwhichgavetoasmallsitting-roomandabath-room.Itmustbeawoman's.Intruth,itwasdesignedespeciallybySenorMaxillaforhisowncomfort.

Lyingon thebedwas a complete changeof clothing. Itwasbrand-newandcompletetothelastdetail.DigbyGroatcouldbeverythorough.

Shedismissedthewoman,andboltingthedoor,madeacompletechange,forthethirdtimesinceshehadleftGrosvenorSquare.

Theboatwasunderwaynow.Shecouldfeelthethrobofitsengines,andtheslightmotionthatitmadeinthechoppysea.ThePealigowasoneofthebestseaboatsafloat,andcertainlyoneofthefastestyachtsincommission.

ShehadfinishedherchangingwhenaknockcameatthedoorandsheopenedittofindDigbystandingonthemat.

"Youhadbettercomeandhavesomedinner,"hesaid.

Hewasquitehisoldself,andwhateveremotionshaddisturbedhimwerenowcompletelyundercontrol.

Sheshrankbackandtriedtoclosethefloor,butnowhewasnotstandingonceremony.Graspingherarmroughly,hedraggedheroutintothepassage.

"You're going to behave yourself while you're on this ship," he said. "I'mmaster here, and there is no especial reason why I should show you anypoliteness."

"Youbrute,youbeast!"sheflamedathim,andhesmiled.

"Don'tthinkthatbecauseyou'reawomanitisgoingtosaveyouanythinginthewayofpunishment,"hewarnedher."Nowbesensibleandcomealongtothedining-saloon."

"Idon'twanttoeat,"shesaid.

"Youwillcomeintothedining-saloonwhetheryouwanttoornot."

Thesaloonwasempty save for the twoandadark-skinnedwaiter, and, likeher own cabin, itwas gorgeously decorated, a veritable palace inminiature,withitsdanglingelectrolier,itsflowers,anditsmarblemantelpieceatthefarend.

Thetablewaslaidwithadeliciousmeal,butEunicefeltshewouldchokeifshetookamorsel.

"Eat,"saidDigby,attackingthesoupwhichhadbeenplacedbeforehim.

Sheshookherhead.

"Ifyoudon't,"andhiseyesnarrowed,"ifyoudon't,mygoodsoul,Iwillfindawayofmakingyoueat,"hesaid."Remember,"heputhishandinhispocket,pulledoutthehatefullittleblackcase(itwaswet,shenoticed)andlaiditonthetable,"atanyrate,youwillbeobedientenoughwhenIusethis!"

Shepickedupherspoonmeeklyandbegantodrinkthesoup,andhewatchedherwithanamusedsmile.

Shewassurprisedtofindhowhungryshewas,andmadenoattempttodenythe chicken en casserole, nor the sweet that followed, but resolutely she

refusedtotouchthewinethatthestewardpouredoutforher,andDigbydidnotpressher.

"You're a fool, you know, Eunice." Digby lit a cigar without askingpermission,andleaningbackinhischair,lookedathercritically."Thereisawonderful life ahead foryou ifyouareonly intelligent.Whyworryabout amanlikeSteele?Apoorbeggar,withoutapennyintheworld—"

"YouforgetthatIhavenoneedofmoney,Mr.Groat,"shesaidwithspirit.AnyreferencetoJimarousedallthatwassavageinher."Ihavenotonlythemoneywhichyouhavenotstolenfrommyestate,butwhenyouarearrestedandInprison, I shall recover all that you have now, including this yacht, if it isyours."

Heranswermadehimchuckle.

"Ilikespirit,"hesaid."Youcan'tannoyme,Eunice,mydarling.Soyoulikeouryacht-ourhoneymoonyacht?"headded.

Tothis,shemadenoreply.

"ButsupposeyourealisehowmuchIloveyou"-heleantoverandcaughtherhand in both of his and his eyes devoured her. "Suppose you realise that,Eunice, and knew I would give my life-my very soul-to make you happy,wouldn'tthatmakeadifference?"

"Nothingwouldmakeadifferencetomyfeelings,MrGroat,"shesaid."Theonlychanceyouhaveofearningmygratitudeis toput inat thenearestportandsetmeashore."

"Andwheredo I setmyself?"he askedcoolly. "Beas intelligent asyouarebeautiful,Eunice.No,no,Ishallbeverygladtomakeyouhappy,solongasIgetalittleofthehappinessmyself,butIdonotriskimprisonmentanddeath-".Heshivered,andhatedhimselfthathehadbeensurprisedintothissymptomoffearandhatedherworst,havingnoticedthat.

"Wherearewegoing?"sheasked.

"We are bound to SouthAmerica," saidDigby, "and itmay interest you tolearn thatwe are following a trackwhich is not usually taken by theSouthAmerican traffic. We shall skirt Ireland and take what Americans call theWesternOceanroute,untilwearewithin1000milesoflongisland,whenweshall turn due south. By this waywe avoid being sighted by theAmericanships,andwealsoavoid—"

Themanwhocameinatthatmoment,Eunicethoughtmustbethecaptain.

He was three rings of gold about his wrist, but he was not her ideal of aseaman.Under-sized,lameinonefoot,hisparchmentfaceofstiffblackhairalmostconvincedherthatthiswasaJapaneseboatafterall.

"Youmustmeetthecaptain,"saidDigby,introducinghim,"andyouhadbettermakefriendswithhim."

Eunice thought that the chances of her making friends with thatuncompromisinglittlemanwereremote.

"Whatisit,captain?"askedDigbyinPortuguese.

"Wehavejustpickedupawireless;Ithoughtyou'dliketoseeit."

"Ihadforgottenwehadwireless,"saidDigbyashetookthemessagefromtheman'shand.

Itwasill-spelt,havingbeenwrittenbyaBrazilianwhohadnoknowledgeofEnglish and had set down the message letter by letter as he received it.Slippingtheerrorsoftransmission,Digbyread;

"Toallshipswestward,southward,andhomewardbound.Keepasharplookout for the yacht Pealigo and report by wireless, position and bearing, toInspectorRite,ScotlandYard."

Eunicedidnotunderstandwhattheyweretalkingabout,butshesawafrownsettleonDigby'sforehead,andguessedthat thenewswasbad.If itwasbadforhim, then itwasverygood forher, she thought, andher spiritsbegan torise.

"Youhadbettergotobed,Eunice."saidDigby."Iwanttotalktothecaptain."

Sherose,andonlythecaptainrosewithher.

"Sit down," saidDigby testily. "You are not here to do the honours toMrs.DigbyGroat."

Shedidnothearthelastwords,forshewasoutofthesaloonasquicklyasshecouldgo.Shewentbacktoherowncabin,shutthedoor,andputupherbandtoshoothomethebolt,butwhileshehadbeenatdinnersomebodyhadbeenbusy.Theboltwasremovedandthekeyofthedoorwasgone!

CHAPTERFORTY-SIX

EUNICEstaredatthedoor.Therewasnomistake.Theboltshadrecentlybeenremovedandtherawwoodshowedwherethescrewshadbeentakenout.

ThePealigowasrollingnow,andshehadadifficultyinkeepingherbalance,butshemadeherwayroundthecabin,gatheringchairs,tables,everythingthatwasmovable,andpilingthemupagainstthedoor.Shesearchedthedrawersofthe bureau for some weapon which might have been left by its formeroccupant, but there was nothing more formidable than a golden-backedhairbrushwhichtheplutocraticMaxillahadoverlooked.

The bathroom yielded nothing more than a long-handled brush, whilst hersitting-roommadenoreturnforhersearch.

She satwatching the door as the hours passed, but no attemptwasmade toenterthecabin.Abellrangatintervalsonthedeck:shecountedeight.Itwasmidnight.HowlongwoulditbebeforeDigbyGroatcame?

Atthatmomentapale-facedDigbyGroat,histeethchattering,satinthecabinof thewireless operator, reading amessagewhich had been picked up. Partwas in code, and evidently addressed to theAdmiralty ships cruising in thevicinity,butthelongermessagewasinplainEnglishandwasaddressed:

"To thechiefofficersof all ships.To theCommandersofH.M. ships: toallJusticesof thePeace,officersof thepoliceGreatBritainand Ireland.ToallInspectors,sub-inspectorsoftheRoyalIrishConstabulary:

"Arrest and detain Digby Groat, height five foot nine, stoutly built,complexionsallow,hadsmallmoustachebutbelievedtohaveshaven.SpeaksSpanish, French, Portuguese, and is a qualified surgeon and physician,believedtobetravellingontheS.Y.Pealigo,No,XVM.Thismaniswantedon a charge of wilful murder and conspiracy; a reward of five thousandpoundswillbepaidbyMessrs.Salter&Salter,Solicitors,ofLondon,forhisarrest and detention. Believe he has travellingwith him, under compulsion,DorothyDanton,age22.Groatisadangerousmanandcarriesfire-arms."

ThelittlecaptainofthePealigotookthethincigarfromhisteethandregardedthegreyashattentively,thoughhewasalsolookingatthewhite-facedmanbytheoperator'sside.

"Soyousee,senhor,"hesaidsuavely,"Iaminamostdifficultposition."

"IthoughtyoudidnotspeakEnglish,"saidDigby,findinghisvoiceatlast.

Thelittlecaptainsmiled.

"I read enough English to understand a reward of five thousand pounds,

senhor,"hesaidsignificantly."Andif Ididnot,mywirelessoperatorspeaksmanylanguages,Englishincluded,andhewouldhaveexplainedtome,evenifIhadnotbeenabletounderstandthemessagemyself."

Digbylookedathimbleakly.

"Whatareyougoingtodo?"heasked.

"Thatdependsuponwhatyouaregoing todo," said theBrazilian. "Iamnotraitor tomysalt,andIshould like toserveyou,butyoureadilyunderstandthatthiswouldmeanaterriblethingforme,if,knowingthatyouwerewantedbytheEnglishpolice,Iassistedyoutomakeanescape?Iamnotasticklerforsmallthings,"heshruggedhisshoulders,"andSenhorMaxilladidmuchthatIclosedmyeyesto.Womencameintohiscalculations,butmurdernever."

"I am not amurderer, I tell you," stormedDigby vehemently, "and you areundermyorders.Doyouunderstandthat?"

HejumpedupandstoodmenacinglyabovetheunperturbedBrazilian,andinhishandhadappearedanugly-lookingweapon.

"Youwillcarryoutmy instructions to the letter,or,byGod,you'llknowallaboutit!"

ButthecaptainofthePealigohadreturnedtothecontemplationofhiscigar.HeremindedDigbysomewhatofBronson,andtheyellow-facedmanshiveredasatanunpleasantthought.

"ItisnotthefirsttimeIhavebeenthreatenedwitharevolver,"saidthecaptaincoolly."YearsagowhenIwasveryyoung,suchthingsmighthavefrightenedme, but to-day I am not young. I have a family in Brazil who are veryexpensive;mypayissmall,otherwiseIwouldnotfollowtheseaandbeeveryman'sdogtokickandbullyashewishes.IfIhadahundredthousandpounds,senhor, I should settle down on a plantationwhich I have bought and be ahappyandasilentmanfortherestofmylife."

Heemphasized"silent,"andDigbyunderstood.

"Couldn'tyoudothatforalittlelessthanahundredthousand?"heasked.

"Ihavebeenthinkingthematteroutverycarefully.Weshipmenhaveplentyoftime to think, and that is the conclusion that I have reached, that a hundredthousandpoundswouldmakeallthedifferencebetweenalifeofworkandalifeof ease."Hewas silent for amoment and thenwenton. "That iswhy Ihesitatedabout thereward.If theradiohadsaidahundredthousandpounds,senhor,Ishouldhavebeentempted."

Digbyturnedonhimwithasnarl.

"Talk straight, will you?" he said. "You want me to pay you a hundredthousandpounds,andthatisthepriceforcarryingmetosafety;otherwiseyouwillreturntoportandgivemeup."

Thecaptainshruggedhisshoulders.

"Isaidnothingofthesort,senhor,"hesaid."ImerelymentionedalittleprivatematterinwhichIamgladtoseeyoutakeaninterest.ThesenhoralsowishesforahappylifeinBrazilwiththebeautifulladyhebroughtonboard,andthesenhorisnotapoorman,andifitistruethatthebeautifulladyisanheiress,hecouldbericher."

Theoperator looked in.Hewasanxious tocomeback tohisowncabin,butthecaptain,withajerkofhishead,senthimoutagain.

Hedroppedhisvoiceatone.

"Woulditnotbepossibleformetogototheyoungladyandsay:'Miss,youareingreatdanger,andI tooamindangerof losingmyliberty,whatwouldyoupaymetoputasentryoutsideyourdoor;toplaceSenhorDigbyGroatinirons, in the strong-room?Do you think shewould say a hundred thousandpounds,orevenahalfofherfortune,senhor?"

Digbywassilent.

Thethreatwasrealanddefinite.Itwasnotcamouflagedbyanyfinephrases;asplainlyasthelittleBraziliancouldstatehisdemands,hehaddoneso.

"Verygood."Digbygotupfromtheedgeofthetablewherehehadsat,withdowncasteyes,turningthisandthatandtheotherplanoverinhismind."I'llpayyou."

"Wait,wait,"saidthecaptain."BecausethereisanotheralternativethatIwishtoputtoyou,senhor,"hesaid."SupposethatIamherfriend,orpretendtobe,andofferherprotectionuntilwereachaportwhereshecanbelanded?Shouldwenotbothreceiveashareofthegreatreward?"

"Iwillnotgiveherup,"saidDigbybetweenhisteeth."Youcancutthatideaoutofyourhead,andalsothenotionaboutputtingmeinirons.ByGod,ifIthoughtyoumeantit—"Hegloweredatthelittleman,andthecaptainsmiled.

"Whomeansanythinginthishorribleclimate?"hesaidlazily."Youwillbringthe money to-morrow to my cabin, perhaps—no, no, to- night," he saidthoughtfully.

"Youcanhaveitto-morrow."

Thecaptainshruggedhisshoulders;hedidnotinsist,andDigbywasleftalonewithhisthoughts.

There was still a hope; there were two. They could not prove that he shotFuentes,anditwouldbeadifficultmattertopickuptheyachtifitfollowedthecourse that thecaptainhadmarkedfor it,andin themeantimetherewasEunice.Hislipstwisted,andthecolourcameintohisface.Eunice!Hewentalongthedeckanddownthecompanion-way,buttherewasamanstandinginthefrontofthedoorofthegirl'scabin,abroad-shoulderedbrown-facedman,whotouchedhiscapastheownerappeared,butdidnotbudge.

"Standoutoftheway,"saidDigbyimpatiently."Iwanttogointothatroom."

"Itisnotpermitted,"saidthesailor.

Digbysteppedbackapace,crimsonwithanger.

"WhogaveordersthatIshouldnotpass?"

"Thecapitano,"saidtheman.

Digby flew up the companion-ladder andwent in search of the captain.Hefoundhimonthebridge.

"What is this?" he began, and the captain snapped something at him inPortuguese,andDigby, lookingahead, sawawhite-fan-shaped light stealingalongthesea.

"It is awarship, and shemay be engaged inmanoeuvres," said the captain,"butshemayalsobelookingforus."

Hegaveanorder,andsuddenlyall the lightson theshipwereextinguished.ThePealigo swung round in a semicircle and headed back theway she hadcome.

"We canmake a detour and get past her," explained the captain, andDigbyforgotthesentryatthedoorinthedistressofthisnewdanger.

Leftandrightwheeledthesearchlight,butneveroncedidittouchthePealigo.Itwassearchingforher, thoughtheymusthaveseenherlights,andnowthebigwhite raywasgropingat the spotwhere theyachthad turned. Itmissedthembyyards.

"Wherearewegoing?"askedDigbyfretfully.

"Wearegoingbackfor tenmiles,andthenwe'llstrikebetweentheshipandIreland,which is there."He pointed to the horizon,where a splash of lighttrembledforasecondandwasgone.

"Wearelosingvaluabletime,"saidDigbyfretfully.

"It is better to lose time than to lose your liberty," said the philosophicalcaptain.

Digbyclutchedtherailandhisheartturnedtowater,asthesearchlightofthewarship again swung round. But fortune was with them. It might, as thecaptainsaid,beonlyashipcarryingoutsearchlightpractice,butontheotherhand, in viewof thewirelessmessageswhich had been received, it seemedcertainthatthecruiserhadaspecialreasonforitsscrutiny.

ItwasnotuntiltheywereoutofthedangerzonethatDigbyrememberedthemissionthathadbroughthimtothebridge.

"Whatdoyoumeanbyputtingamanonguardoutside thatgirl'sdoor?"heasked.

The captain had gone to the deckhouse, and was bending over the tableexamininganAdmiraltychart.HedidnotansweruntilDigbyhadrepeatedthequestion,thenhelookedupandstraightenedhisback.

"The future of the lady is dependent, entirely, on the fulfilment of yourpromise,illustrious,"hesaidintheflamboyantterminologyofhismotherland.

"ButIpromised—"

"Youhavenotperformed."

"Doyoudoubtmywords?"stormedDigby.

"Idonotdoubt,butIdonotunderstand,"saidthecaptain."IfyouwillcometomycabinIwillsettlewithyou."

Digbythoughtawhile;hisinterestinEunicehadevaporatedwiththecomingof thisnewdanger,and therewasnoreasonwhyheshouldsettle thatnight.Supposehewascaptured,themoneywouldbewasted.Itwouldbeuselesstohimalso,butthis,inhisparsimoniousway,didnotinfluencehim.

Hewentdowntohiscabin,asmallerandlessbeautifullyfurnishedonethanthatoccupiedbyEunice,andpullinganarm-chairtotheneatlittledesk,hesatdowntothinkmattersover.Andasthehourspassed,hisperspectiveshifted.Somehow,thedangerseemedveryremote,andEunicewasverynear,andifany real danger came, why, there would be an end of all things, Eunice

included, and hismoneywould be of nomore value to him than the spraywhichflappedagainsttheclosedporthole.

Beneaththebureauwasasmall,strongsafe,andthisheunlocked,takingoutthebroadmoney-beltwhichhehadfastenedabouthiswaistbeforehebeganthejourney.Heemptiedonebulgingpocket,andlaidawadofbillsuponthedesk. They were gold bonds of ten thousand dollar denomination, and hecountedforty,puttheremainderbackinthepocketfromwhencehehadtakenit,andlockedthebeltinthesafe.

It was half-past five and the grey of the new day showed through theportholes. He thrust the money in his pocket and went out to talk to thecaptain.

Heshivered in thechillwindofmorningashesteppedouton thedeckandmadehiswayfor'ard.ThelittleBrazilian,agrotesquefigure,wrappedinhisovercoatandmuffledtothechin,wasstandingmoodilystaringacrossthegreywaste.WithoutawordDigbysteppeduptohimandthrustthebundleofnotesintohishand.TheBrazilianlookedatthemoney,counteditmechanically,andput it into his pocket. "Your Excellency ismunificent," he said. "Now takeyoursentryfromthedoor,"saidDigbysharply.

"Waithere,"saidthecaptain,andwentbelow.Hereturnedinafewminutes.

CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN

SHEhadheardthetapofherfirstvisitoratoneo'clockinthemorning.IthadcomewhenDigbyGroatwassittinginhiscabinturningoverthepossibilitiesofmisfortunewhichthefutureheld,andshehadthoughtitwashe.

Thehandleofthedoorturnedanditopenedaninch;beyondthatitcouldnotgowithoutacrash,for thechairsandtables thatEunicehadpiledagainst it.Shewatchedwithastonyfaceanddespairinherheart,astheopeningofthedoorincreased.

"Pleasedonotbeafraid,"saidavoice.

ThenitwasnotDigby!Shesprangtoherfeet.Itmightbesomeoneworse,butthatwasimpossible.

"Whoisit?"sheasked.

"ItisI,thecaptain,"saidavoiceinlabouredEnglish.

"Whatisityouwant?"

"Iwish to speak to you,mademoiselle, but youmust put away these thingsfrombehindthedoor,otherwiseIwillcalltwoofmysailors,anditwillbeasimplemattertopushthemaside."

Alreadyhehadprizedopenthedoortotheextentoftwoorthreeinches,andwith a groan Eunice realized the futility of her barricade. She dragged thefurnitureasideandthelittlecaptaincameinsmiling,hatinhand,closingthedoorafterhim.

"Permitme,mademoiselle," he said politely, andmoved her asidewhile hereplaced the furniture; then he opened the door and looked out, andEunicesaw that there was a tall sailor standing with his back to her, evidently onguard.Whatdidthismean,shewondered?Thecaptaindidnotleaveherlonginignorance.

"Lady,"hesaidinanaccentwhichitwasalmostimpossibletoreproduce,"Iam a poor sailor-man who works at his hazardous calling for two hundredmiserable milreis a month. But because I am poor, and of humble—" hehesitatedandusedthePortuguesewordfororigin—whichsheguessedat—"itdoes notmean that I amwithout a heart."He struck his breast violently. "Ihavearepugnanciotohurtingfemalewomen!"

Shewaswonderingwhatwascomingnext:wouldheoffertosellhismasterataprice?Ifhedid,shewouldgladlyagree,butthenewhopewhichsurgedupwithinherwasdissipatedbyhisnextwords.

"MyfriendGroat,"hesaid,"ismymaster. Imustobeyhisorders,and ifhesays'GotoCallio,'ortoRiodeJaneiro,Imustgo."

Herhopessunk,butevidentlyhehadsomethingmoretosay.

"AsthecaptainImustdoasIamtold,"hesaid,"butIcannotandwillnotseeafemalehurted.Youunderstand?"

Shenodded,andthesparkofhopekindledafresh.

"Imyselfcannotbehereallthetime,norcanmyinconquerablesailors,toseethatyouarenothurted,anditwouldlookbadformeifyouwerehurted—verybad!"

Evidently the worthy captain was taking a very far-sighted view of thesituation, andhadhit upona compromisewhich relievedhimat least ofhisresponsibilitytowardhismaster.

"If theyoung ladywill take this, remembering that JoseMontiganowas thegoodfriendofhers,Ishallberepaid."

"This"wasasilveryweapon.Shetooktheweaponinherhandwithagladcry.

"Oh,thankyou,thankyou,captain,"shesaid,seizinghishand.

"Remember,"he raisedawarning finger. "Icannotdomore. I speaknowasman to woman. Presently I speak as captain to owner. You understand theremarkabledifference?"

Heconfusedheralittle,butshecouldguesswhathemeant.

Hebowedandmadehisexit,butpresentlyhereturned.

"Toputthechairsandtablesagainstthefloorisnouse,"hesaid,shakinghishead."Itisbetter—"Hepointedsignificantlytotherevolver,andwithabroadgrinclosedthedoorbehindhim.

DigbyGroat knew nothing of this visit: it satisfied him that the sentry hadbeen withdrawn, and that now nothing stood between him and the womanwhom, in his distorted, evil way, he loved, but her own frail strength. Hetappedagain. Itpleasedhim toobserve these threadbareconventions for thetimebeing,yetwhennoanswercametohisknock,heopenedthedoorslowlyandwalkedin.

Eunicewasstandingat thefarendof thecabin; thesilkencurtainshadbeendrawnaside,and thedoor leading tohersittingsaloonwasopen.Herhandswerebehindherandshewasfullydressed.

"My dear," said Digby, in his most expansive manner, "why are you tiringyourprettyeyes?Youshouldhavebeeninbedandasleep."

"Whatdoyouwant?"shedemanded.

"Whatelsecouldamanwant,whohadsuchabeautifulwife,butthepleasureofherconversationandcompanionship,"hesaidwithanairofgaiety.

"Standwhereyouare,"shecalledsharplyasheadvanced,andtheauthorityinhertonemadehimhalt.

"Now,Eunice," he said, shaking his head, "you aremaking a lot of troublewhentroubleisfoolish.Youhaveonlytobesensible,andthereisnothingintheworldthatIwillnotgiveyou."

"Thereisnothingintheworldthatyouhavetogive,exceptthemoneywhichyouhavestolenfromme,"shesaidcalmly."Whydoyoutalkofgiving,when

Iamthegiver,andthereisnothingforyoutotakebutmymercy?"

He stared at her, stricken dumb by the coolness at themoment of hermostdeadly danger, and then with a laugh he recovered his self-possession andstrolledtowardsher,hisdarkeyesaflame.

"Standwhereyouare,"saidEuniceagain,andthistimeshehadthemeanstoenforcehercommand.

Digbycouldonlystareat themuzzleof thepistolpointed towardshisheart,andthenheshrankback.

"Putthat thingaway!"hesaidharshly."Damnyou,put itaway!Youarenotusedtofire-arms,anditmayexplode."

"It will explode," said Eunice. Her voicewas deep and intense, and all theresentment shehad smotheredpoured forth in herwords. "I tell you,DigbyGroat, thatIwillshootyoulikeadog,andgloryin theact.ShootyoumoremercilesslythanyoukilledthatpoorSpaniard,andlookuponyourbodywithlesshorrorthanyoushowed."

"Put itaway,put itaway!Wheredidyouget it?"hecried. "ForGod's sake,Eunice,don'tfoolwiththatpistol;youdon'twanttokillme,doyou?"

"TherearetimeswhenIwanttokillyouverybadly,"shesaid,andloweredthepointoftherevolveratthesightoftheman'sabjectcowardice.

Hewipedhisforeheadwithasilkhandkerchief,andshecouldseehiskneestrembling.

"Whogaveyouthatpistol?"hedemandedviolently."Youdidn'thaveitwhenyou leftKennettHall, that I'll swear.Wheredidyoufind it? Inoneof thosedrawers?"Helookedatthebureau,oneofthedrawersofwhichwashalfopen.

"Does itmatter?"sheasked."Now,Mr.Groat,youwillpleasegooutofmycabinandleavemeinpeace."

"Ihadnointentionofhurtingyou,"hegrowled.Hewasstillverypale."Therewas no need for you to flourish your revolver so melodramatically. I onlycameintosaygoodnight."

"Youmighthavecomeaboutsixhoursearlier,"shesaid."Nowgo."

"Listen tome, Eunice," saidDigbyGroat; he edged forward, but her pistolcoveredhim,andhejumped."Ifyou'regoingtoplaythefool,I'llgo,"hesaid,andfollowedtheactionbythedeed,slammingthedoorbehindhim.

Sheheardtheouterdooropenandclose,andleantagainstthebrasscolumnofthebedforsupport,forshewasneartotheendofhercourage.Shemustsleep,shethought,butfirstshemustsecuretheouterdoor.Therewasalockonthelobbydoor; shehadnotnoticed thatbefore.Shehadhardly taken two stepsthrough the cabindoorbefore an armwas flung roundher, shewaspressedback, and a hand gripped the wrist which still carried the weapon.With awrenchheflungittothefloor,andinanothermomentshewasinhisarms.

"YouthoughtI'dgone"—heliftedher,stillstruggling,andcarriedherbacktothesaloon."Iwanttoseeyou,"hebreathed;"toseeyourface,yourgloriouseyes,thatwonderfulmouthofyours,Eunice."Hepressedhislipsagainsthers;hesmotheredwithkisseshercheeks,herneck,hereyes.

She felt herself slipping fromconsciousness; the very horror of his caressesfroze andparalysedherwill to struggle.She couldonlygaze at the eyes soclosetohers,fascinatedasbytheglareofthedeadlysnake.

"Youareminenow,mine,doyouhear?"hemurmuredintoherear."YouwillforgetJimSteele,forgeteverythingexceptthatIadoreyou,"andthenhesawherwildgazepasshimtothedoor,andturned.

Thelittlecaptainstoodthere,hishandsonhiships,watching,hisbrownfaceamask.

Digbyreleasedhisholdofthegirl,andturnedonthesailor.

"Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?Getout."healmostscreamed.

"Thereisanaeroplanelookingforus,"saidthecaptain."Wehavejustpickedupherwireless."

Digby'sjawdropped.Thatpossibilityhadnotoccurredtohim.

"Whoisshe?Whatdoesthewirelesssay?"

"It is a message we picked up saying, 'Nothing sighted. Am heading duesouth.'Itgaveherposition,"addedthecaptain,"andifsheiscomingduesouthIthinkMr.Steelewillfindus."

Digbyfellbackapace,hisfaceblanched.

"Steele,"hegasped.

Thecaptainnodded.

"That is thegentlemanwhosigns themessage. I think itwouldbeadvisableforyoutocomeondeck."

"I'll comeon deckwhen Iwant," growledDigby.Therewas a devil in himnow.Hewasattheendofhiscourse,andhewasnottobethwarted.

"Willthegoodgentlemancomeondeck?"

"Iwillcomelater.Ihavesomebusinesstoattendtohere."

"Youcanattendtoitondeck,"saidthelittlecaptaincalmly.

"Getout,"shoutedDigby.

The captain's hand did not seem to move; there was a shot, the deafeningexplosionofwhichfilledthecabin,andapanelbehindDigby'sheadsplinteredintoathousandpieces.

Heglaredat the revolver in theBrazilian'shand,unable to realizewhathadhappened.

"I could have shot you just as easily," said the Brazilian calmly, "but Ipreferred to send the little bullet near your ear. Will you come on deck,please?"

DigbyGroatobeyed.

CHAPTERFORTY-EIGHT

WHITEandbreathlessheleantagainstthebulwarkgloweringattheBrazilian,whohadcomebetweenhimandthewomanwhoserumhehadplanned.

"Now,"hesaid,"youwilltellmewhatyoumeanbythis,youswine!"

"Iwilltellyoumanythingsthatyouwillnotliketohear,"saidthecaptain.

AlightdawneduponDigby.

"Didyougivethegirlthatrevolver?"

TheBraziliannodded.

"I desired to save you from yourself, my friend," he said. "In an hour thegentlemanSteelewillbewithinsightofus;Icantellwhereheiswithinafewmiles.Doyouwishthatheshouldcomeonboardanddiscoverthatyouhaveaddedsomethingtomurderthatisworsethanmurder?"

"Thatismybusiness,"saidDigbyGroat,breathingsoquicklythathefelthe

wouldsuffocateunlessthepent-uprageinhimfoundsomevent.

"Andmine," said the captain, tappinghimon the chest. "I tell you,my finefellow, that that is my business also, for I do not intend to live within anEnglishgaol.ItistoocoldinEnglandandIwouldnotsurviveonewinter.No,myfinefellow,thereisonlyonethingtodo.Itistorunduewestinthehopethatweescapetheobservationoftheairshipman;ifwedonot,thenweare—"Hesnappedhisfingers.

"Doasyoulike,"saidDigby,andturningabruptlywalkeddowntohiscabin.

Hewasbeaten,andtheendwasnear.Hetookfromadrawerasmallbottleofcolourlessliquid,andemptieditscontentsintoaglass.Thisheplacedinarackconveniently tohishand.Theeffectwouldnotbeviolent.Onegulp,andhewould pass to sleep and there the matter would end for him. That was acomfortingthoughttoDigbyGroat.

If theyescaped—!Hismind turned toEunice.Shecouldwait;perhaps theywoulddodgethroughalltheseguardsthatthepolicehadput,andtheywouldreach that land forwhichheyearned.Hecouldnot expect thecaptain, afterreceivingthewirelessmessagesofwarning,totaketherisks.Hewasplayingforsafety,thoughtDigby,anddidnotwhollydisapproveoftheman'sattitude.

When they were on the high seas away from the ocean traffic, the littleBrazilian would change his attitude, and then—Digby nodded. The captainwaswise;itwouldhavebeenmadnessonhisparttoforcetheissuesosoon.

Eunice could not get away; they were moving in the same direction to acommondestination,andtherewereweeks,hotandsunnyweeks,whentheycould sit under the awning on this beautiful yacht and talk. He would berational anddrop that cave-manmethodofwooing.Aweek'sproximity andfreedomfromrestraintmightmakeallthedifferenceintheworld,if—Therewasabigif,herecognized.Steelewouldnotrestuntilhehadfoundhim,butbythattimeEunicemightbeacomplacentpartner.

He felt a little more cheerful, locked away the glass and its contents in acupboard,andstrolleduptothedeck.Hesawtheshipnowforthefirsttimeindaylight,anditwasamodelofwhatayachtshouldbe.Thedeckwassnowywhite; every piece of brass-work glittered, the coiled sheets looked to havebeen dipped in chalk, and under that identical awning great basket chairsawaitedhiminvitingly.

Heglancedroundthehorizon;therewasnoshipinsight.Theseasparkledintheraysofthesun,andoverthewhitewakeofthesteamerlayadeepblackpallofsmoke,forthePealigowasracingforwardattwenty-twoknotsanhour.

The captain, at any rate, was not playing him false. He was heading west,judgedDigby.

Farawayontherightwasanirregularpurplestrip,thelineoftheIrishcoast;theonly traffic theywouldmeetnow,heconsidered,was thewestern-boundsteamersontheNewYorkroute.Buttheonlysignofasteamerwasablobofsmokeonthefar-offeasternhorizon.

Thechairsinvitedhim,andhesatdownandstretchedhislegsluxuriously.

Yes,thiswasabetterplan,hethought,andashismindturnedagaintoEunice,sheappearedattheheadofthecompanion-way.Atfirstshedidnotseehim,andwalkingtotherail,seemedtobebreathinginthebeautiesofthemorning.

Howexquisite she looked!Hedidnot remember seeing awomanwhoheldherselfasshedid.Thevirginalpurityofherface,thegloryofhercolouring,thesveltewomanfigureofher—theywereworthwaitingfor,hetoldhimselfagain.

Sheturnedherheadandsawhimandmadeamovementasthoughsheweregoing back to her cabin, but he beckoned to her, and to his surprise, shewalkedslowlytowardhim.

"Don'tgetup,"shesaidcoldly."Icanfindachairmyself.Iwanttospeaktoyou,Mr.Groat."

"Youwanttospeaktome,"hesaidinamazement,andshenodded.

"Ihavebeen thinking thatperhaps Ican induceyou to turn thisyachtaboutandlandmeinEngland."

"Oh,youhave,haveyou?"hesaidsharply."What inducementcanyouofferotherthanyourgraciousself?"

"Money,"sheanswered."Idonotknowbywhatmiracleithashappened,butIbelieveIamanheiress,andworth"—shehesitated—"agreatdealofmoney.Ifthatisthecase,Mr.Groat,youarepoor."

"I'mnotexactlyapauper,"hesaid,apparentlyamused."Whatareyouofferingme?"

"I'mofferingyouhalfmyfortunetotakemebacktoEngland,"shesaid.

"Andwhatwouldyoudowiththeotherhalfofyourfortune?"hemockedher."Save me from the gallows? No, no, my young friend, I have committedmyselftoodeeplytomakeyourplanevenfeasible.I'mnotgoingtobotheryouagain, and I promise you I will wait until we have reached our destination

beforeIaskyoutosharemylot.IappreciateyourofferandIdaresayitisanhonestone,"hewenton,"butIhavegonetoofarliterallyandfigurativelytoturnback.Youhatemenow,butthatfeelingwillchange."

"Itwillneverchange,"shesaidassherose."ButIseethatIamwastingmytimewithyou,"andwithalittlenod,shewouldhavegonehadhenotcaughtherhandanddrawnherback.

"Youlovesomebodyelse,Isuppose?"

"Thatisanimpertinence,"shesaid."Youhavenorighttoquestionme."

"Iamnotquestioningyou,Iammerelymakingastatementwhichisbeyonddispute.Youlovesomebodyelse,andthatsomebodyisJimSteele."Heleantforward."Youcanmakeupyourmindfor this, thatsooner thangiveyou toJimSteele,Iwillkillyou.Isthatplain?"

"Itisthekindestthingyouhavesaid,"shesmiledcontemptuouslyassherose.

CHAPTERFORTY-NINE

ALITTLE smudge of smoke far away to the south, sent Jim Steele racingaway on a fool's errand, for the ship proved to be nothingmore interestingthanafruit-boatwhichhadignoredhiswirelessinquirybecausetheonlymanwhooperatedtheinstrumentwasasleepinhisbunk.Jimsawthecharacterofthe ship when he was within two miles of it, and banked over, cutting adiagonalcoursenorth-west.

Onceortwiceheglancedbackathis"passenger,"butInspectorMaynardwasthoroughlyathomeandapparentlycomfortable.

Jimwasgrowinganxious.Atthelongesthecouldnotkeepintheairformorethanfourhours,andtwoofthoseprecioushourswerealreadygone.Hemustleavehimselfsufficient"juice"tomakethelandandthisnewzigzagmustnotoccupymorethanhalfanhour.

Hehadpurposely taken themachine toagreatheight toenlargehis fieldofvision,andthatmeantastillfurtherburdenuponhislimitedsupplyofpetrol.

Hewasalmostdespairingwhenhesawinthefardistanceatinywhitearrowoffoam—theshipwhosewakeitwashecouldnotsee.Hishandstrayedtothekeyof his littlewireless andhe sent amessagequivering through the ether.

Therewasno response.Hewaitedaminuteandagain thekeyclatteredandclicked.Againa silenceandhe flashedanangrymessage.Then throughhisear-piecesheheardashrillwailofsound—thesteamerwasresponding.

"Whatshipisthat?"

Hewaited,never"doubting thathewould learn itwassomesmallmerchantvessel.Therewasawhine,andthen:

"P-E-A-L-I-G-O."wasthereply.

Digby had gone forward to seewhat themenwere doingwhowere swungover the side.Hewas delighted to discover that theywere painting out thewordPealigoandweresubstitutingMalaga.Hewentuptothecaptaininhismostamiablemood.

"Thatisagoodthoughtofyours,"hesaid,"changingthename,Imean."

Thecaptainnodded.

"Byyourorders,ofcourse,"hesaid.

"Ofcourse,"smiledDigby,"bymyorders."

AllthetimehewasstandingtherechattingtotheBrazilianhenoticedthatthemanconstantlyturnedhiseyestothenorth,scanningthesky.

"Youdon'tthinkthattheaeroplanewillcomesofarout,doyou?Howfararewefromthecoast?"

"WeareahundredandtwelvemilesfromtheEnglishcoast,"saidtheskipper,"andthatisn'tanygreatdistanceforaseaplane."

Digbywithunusualjovialityslappedhimontheback.

"Youaregettingnervous,"hesaid."Hewon'tcomenow."

Aman had come on to the bridgewhomDigby recognized as thewirelessoperator.Hehandedamessage to thecaptain, andhe saw thecaptain's facechange.

"Whatisit?"heaskedquickly.

Withoutawordthemanhandedthewrittenslip.

"Shipheadingsouth,sendmeyournameandnumber."

"Whoisitfrom?"askedDigby,startledatthisvoicefromnowhere.

Thecaptain,supportinghistelescopeagainstastanchion,scannedthenorthernskies.

"Iseenothing,"hesaidwithafrown."Possiblyitcamefromoneofthelandstations;thereisnoshipinsight."

"Letusaskhimwhoheis,"saidDigby.

The threewentback to thewireless roomand theoperator adjustedhis ear-pieces.Presentlyhebeganwriting,afteraglanceupatthecaptain,andDigbywatchedfascinatedthemovementsofthepencil.

"Heaveto.Iamcomingaboardyou."

Thecaptainwentoutonthedeckandagainmadeacarefulexaminationofthesky.

"Ican'tunderstandit,"hesaid.

"The signal was close, senhor captain—it was less than three miles away,"brokeintheoperator.

Thecaptainrubbedhisnose.

"Ihadbetterstop,"hesaid.

"You'lldonothingofthekind,"stormedDigby.

"You'llgoonuntilItellyoutostop."

They returned to the bridge, and the captain stood with one hand on thetelegraph,undecided.

Andthenrightaheadofthem,lessthanhalfamileaway,somethingfellintothewaterwithasplash.

"Whatwasthat?"saidDigby.

He was answered immediately. From the place where the splashing hadoccurred arose a great mass of billowing smoke which sped along the sea,presentinganimpenetrableveil.Smokewasrisingfromtheseatotheirright,andthecaptain,shadinghiseyes,lookedup.Directlyoverthemitseemedwasasilveryshape,sosmallastobealmostinvisibleifthesunhadnotcaughtthewing-tipsandpaintedthemsilver.

"This,myfriend,"saidthecaptain,"iswheremanythingshappen."Hejerkedoverthetelegraphtostop.

"Whatisit?"askedDigby.

"Itwasasmoke-bomb,andIpreferasmoke-bombhalfamileawaytoarealbombonmybeautifulship,"saidthecaptain.

ForamomentDigbystaredathim,andthenwithascreamofragehesprangat the telegraph and thrust it over to full-ahead. Immediately hewas seizedfrombehindbytwosailors,andthecaptainbroughtthetelegraphbacktoitsoriginalposition.

"You will signal to the senhor aviator, to whom you have already told thenameoftheship,ifyouhaveobeyedmyorders,"hesaidtotheoperator,"andsaythatIhaveputMr.DigbyGroatinirons!"

Andfiveminuteslaterthisstatementwasnearlytrue.

Downfromthebluedroppedthatsilverydragon-fly,firstsweepingroundthestationaryvesselingreatcirclesuntilitsettledlikeabirduponthewaterclosetotheyacht'sside.

The captain had already lowered a boat, and whilst they were fixing theshackles on a man who was behaving like a raving madman in his cabinbelow,JimSteelecamelightlyupthesideoftheshipandfollowedthecaptaindownthecompanion-way.

Abovetherumbleoftheyacht'smachineryEunicehadheardthefaintbuzzofthedescendingseaplane,buthadbeenunabletodistinguishituntiltheyachtstopped,thenshehearditplainlyenoughandrantotheporthole,pullingasidethesilkcurtain.

Yes,thereitwas,abuzzinginsectofathing,thatpresentlypassedoutofsightontheotherside.Whatdiditmean?Whatdiditmean,shewondered.Wasit—andthenthedoorflewopenandamanstoodthere.Hewaswithoutcollarorwaistcoat, his hair was rumpled, his face bleeding, and one link of a steelhandcuffwasfastenedabouthiswrist. ItwasDigbyGroat,andhisfacewasthefaceofadevil.

Sheshrankbackagainstthebedashecamestealthilytowardher,thelightofmadnessinhiseyes,andthensomebodyelsecamein,andheswungroundtomeetthecoldlevelscrutinyofJimSteele.

With a yell like a wild beast, Digby sprang at the man he hated, but thewhirlingsteelofthemanacleuponhishandneverstruckhome.TwiceJimhithim,andhefellaninertheapontheground.InanothersecondEunicewasinherlover'sarms,sobbingherjoyuponthebreastofhisleatherjacket.

THEEND

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