When Cyril arrived in Newhaven that evening, he was unpleasantly surprised to find, as he got out of the train, that Judson had been travelling in the adjoining compartment. Had the man been following him, or was it simply chance that had brought them together, he wondered. Oh! If he could only get rid of the fellow!

"You have come to see me, I suppose," he remarked ungraciously.

"Yes, my lord."

"Very well, then, get into the car."

Cyril was in no mood to talk, so the first part of the way was accomplished in silence, but at last, thinking that he might as well hear what the man had to say, he turned to him and asked:

"Have you found out anything of any importance?"

"I fancy so, my lord."

"Really! Well, what is it?"

"If you will excuse me, my lord, I should suggest that we wait till we get to the castle," replied Judson, casting a meaning look at the chauffeur's back.

"Just as you please." His contempt for Judson was so great that Cyril was not very curious to hear his revelations.

"Now," said Cyril, as he flung himself into a low chair before the library fire, "what have you to tell me?"

Before answering Judson peered cautiously around; then, drawing forward a straight-backed chair, he seated himself close to Cyril and folded his hands in his lap.

"In dealing with my clients," he began, "I make it a rule instead of simply stating the results of my work to show them how I arrive at my conclusions. Having submitted to them all the facts I have collected, they are able to judge for themselves as to the value of the evidence on which my deductions are based. And so, my lord, I should like to go over the whole case with you from the very beginning."

Cyril gave a grunt which Judson evidently construed into an assent, for he continued even more glibly:

"The first point I considered was, whether her Ladyship had premeditated her escape. But in order to determine this, we must first decide whom she could have got to help her to accomplish such a purpose. The most careful inquiry has failed to reveal any one who would have been both willing and able to do so, except the sempstress, and as both mistress and maid disappeared almost simultaneously, one's first impulse is to take it for granted that Prentice was her Ladyship's accomplice. This is what every one, Scotland Yard included, believes."

"And you do not?"

"Before either accepting or rejecting this theory, I decided to visit this girl's home. I did not feel clear in my mind about her. All the servants were impressed by her manner and personality, the butler especially so, and he more than hinted that there must be some mystery attached to her. One of the things that stimulated their curiosity was that she kept up a daily correspondence with some one in Plumtree. On reaching the village I called at once on the vicar. He is an elderly man, much respected and beloved by his parishioners. I found him in a state of great excitement, having just read in the paper of Prentice's disappearance. I had no difficulty in inducing him to tell me the main facts of her history; the rest I picked up from the village gossips. The girl is a foundling. And till she came to Geralton she was an inmate of the vicar's household. He told me that he would have adopted her, but knowing that he had not sufficient means to provide for her future, he wisely refrained from educating her above her station. Nevertheless, I gathered that the privilege of his frequent companionship had refined her speech and manners, and I am told that she now could pass muster in any drawing-room."

"Did she ever learn French?" interrupted Cyril, eagerly.

"Not that I know of, and I do not believe the vicar would have taught her an accomplishment so useless to one in her position."

"Did she ever go to France?"

"Never. But, why do you ask?"

"No matter—I—but go on with your story."

"Owing partly to the mystery which surrounded her birth and gave rise to all sorts of rumours, and partly to her own personality, the gentry of the neighbourhood made quite a pet of her. As a child she was asked occasionally to play with the Squire's crippled daughter and later she used to go to the Hall three times a week to read aloud to her. So, notwithstanding the vicar's good intentions, she grew up to be neither 'fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring.' Now all went well till about a year ago, when the Squire's eldest son returned home and fell in love with her. His people naturally opposed the match and, as he is entirely dependent upon them, there seemed no possibility of his marrying her. The girl appeared broken-hearted, and when she came to the castle, every one, the vicar included, thought the affair at an end. I am sure, however, that such was not the case, for as no one at the vicarage wrote to her daily, the letters she received must have come from her young man. Furthermore, she told the servants that she had a cousin in Newhaven, but as she has not a relative in the world, this is obviously a falsehood. Who, then, is this mysterious person she visited? It seems to me almost certain that it was her lover."

"Possibly," agreed Cyril. "But I don't quite see what you are trying to prove by all this. If Prentice did not help her Ladyship to escape, who did?"

"I have not said that Prentice is not a factor in the case, only I believe her part to have been a very subordinate one. Of one thing, however, I am sure, and that is that she did not return to Geralton on the night of the murder."

"How can you be sure of that?" demanded Cyril.

"Because she asked for permission early in the morning to spend the night in Newhaven and had already left the castle before the doctors' visit terminated. Now, although I think it probable that her Ladyship may for a long time have entertained the idea of leaving Geralton, yet I believe that it was the doctors' visit that gave the necessary impetus to convert her idle longing into definite action. Therefore I conclude that Prentice could have had no knowledge of her mistress's sudden flight."

"But how can you know that the whole thing had not been carefully premeditated?"

"Because her Ladyship showed such agitation and distress at hearing the doctors' verdict. If her plans for leaving the castle had been completed, she would have accepted the situation more calmly."

"Has nothing been heard of these doctors?"

"Nothing. We have been able to trace them only as far as London. They could not have been reputable physicians or they would have answered our advertisements, and so I am inclined to believe that you were right and that it was his Lordship who spread the rumours of her Ladyship's insanity."

"I am sure of it," said Cyril.

"Very good. Assuming, therefore, that Lady Wilmersley is sane, we will proceed to draw logical inferences from her actions." Judson paused a moment before continuing: "Now I am convinced that the only connection Prentice had with the affair was to procure some clothes for her mistress, and these had probably been sometime in the latter's possession."

"H'm!" ejaculated Cyril sceptically. "I think it would have been pretty difficult to have concealed anything from that maid of hers."

"Difficult, I grant you, but not impossible, my lord."

"But if Prentice had no knowledge of the tragedy, why did she not return to the castle? What has become of her? Why have the police been unable to find her?"

"I believe that she joined her lover and that they are together on the continent, for in Plumtree I was told that the young man had recently gone to Paris. As I am sure that she knows nothing of any importance, I thought it useless to waste time and money trying to discover their exact locality. That the police have not succeeded in finding her, I ascribe to the fact that they are looking for a young woman who left Newhaven after and not before the murder."

"You think she left before?"

"Yes, and I have two reasons for this supposition. First, I can discover no place where he or she, either separately or together, could have spent the night. Secondly, if they had left Newhaven the following morning or in fact at any time after the murder, they would certainly have been apprehended, as all the boats and trains were most carefully watched."

"But no one knew of her disappearance till twenty-four hours later, and during that interval she could easily have got away unobserved."

"No, my lord, there you are mistaken. From the moment that the police were notified that a crime had been committed, every one, especially every woman, who left Newhaven was most attentively scrutinised."

"You are certain that Prentice could not have left Newhaven unnoticed, yet her Ladyship managed to do so! How do you account for that?"

The detective paused a moment and looked fixedly at Cyril.

"Her Ladyship had a very powerful protector, my lord," he finally said.

"A protector! Who?"

Again the detective did not reply immediately.

"It's no use beating about the bush, my lord, I know everything."

"Well then, out with it," cried Cyril impatiently. "What are you hesitating for? Have you found her Ladyship or have you not?"

"I have, my lord."

"You have! Then why on earth didn't you tell me at once? Where is she?" cried Cyril.

There was a pause during which the detective regarded Cyril through narrowed lids.

"She is at present at the nursing home of Dr. Stuart-Smith," he said at last.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cyril, sinking back into his chair and negligently lighting another cigarette. "I thought you had discovered something. You mean my wife, Lady Wilmersley——"

"Pardon me for interrupting you, my lord. I don't make mistakes like that. I repeat, the Dowager Lady Wilmersley is under the care of Dr. Smith."

The man's tone was so assured that Cyril was staggered for a moment.

"It isn't true," he asserted angrily.

"Is it possible that you really do not know who the lady is that you rescued that day from the police?" exclaimed the detective, startled out of his habitual impassivity.

"I confess that I do not. But of one thing I am sure, and that is that she is not the person you suppose."

"Well, my lord, I must say that you have surprised me. Yet I ought to have guessed it. It was stupid of me, very."

"I tell you that you are on the wrong track. Lady Wilmersley has golden hair. Well, this lady's hair is black."

"She has dyed it."

"She has not, for it has turned completely white," exclaimed Cyril, triumphantly.

"Did she tell you so?"

"Yes."

"Her Ladyship is cleverer than I supposed," remarked the detective with a pitying smile.

"I am not such a fool as you seem to think," retorted Cyril. "And I can assure you that the lady in question is incapable of deception."

"All I can say is, my lord, that I am absolutely sure of her Ladyship's identity and that you yourself gave me the clue to her whereabouts."

"I—how?"

"I of course noticed that when you heard her Ladyship had golden hair, you were not only extremely surprised but also very much relieved. I at once asked myself why such an apparently trivial matter should have so great and so peculiar an effect on you. As you had never seen her Ladyship, I argued that you must that very day have met some one you had reason to suppose to be Lady Wilmersley and that this person had dark hair. By following your movements from the time you landed I found that the only woman with whom you had come in contact was a young lady who had joined you in Newhaven, and that she answered to the description of Lady Wilmersley in every particular, with the sole exception that she had dark hair! I was, however, told that you had said that she was your wife and had produced a passport to prove it. Now I had heard from your valet that her Ladyship was still in France, so you can hardly blame me for doubting the correctness of your statement. But in order to make assurance doubly sure, I sent one of my men to the continent. He reported that her Ladyship had for some months been a patient at Charleroi, but had recently escaped from there, and that you are still employing detectives to find her."

"I did not engage you to pry into my affairs," exclaimed Cyril savagely.

"Nor have I exceeded my duty as I conceive it," retorted the detective. "As your Lordship refused to honour me with your confidence, I had to find out the facts by other means; and you must surely realise that without facts it is impossible for me to construct a theory, and till I can do that my work is practically valueless."

"But my wife has nothing to do with the case."

"Quite so, my lord, but a lady who claimed to be her Ladyship is intimately concerned with it."

"I repeat that is all nonsense."

"If your Lordship will listen to me, I think I can prove to you that as far as the lady's identity is concerned, I have made no mistake. But to do this convincingly, I must reconstruct the tragedy as I conceive that it happened."

"Go ahead; I don't mind hearing your theory."

"First, I must ask you to take it for granted that I am right in believing that Prentice was ignorant of her Ladyship's flight."

"I will admit that much," agreed Cyril.

"Thank you, my lord. Now let us try and imagine exactly what was her Ladyship's position on the night of the murder. Her first care must have been to devise some means of eluding his Lordship's vigilance. This was a difficult problem, for Mustapha tells me that his Lordship was not only a very light sleeper but that he suffered from chronic insomnia. You may or may not know that his Lordship had long been addicted to the opium habit and would sometimes for days together lie in a stupor. Large quantities of the drug were found in his room and that explains how her Ladyship managed to get hold of the opium with which she doctored his Lordship's coffee."

"This is, however, mere supposition on your part," objected Cyril.

"Not at all, my lord. I had the sediment of the two cups analysed and the chemist found that one of them contained a small quantity of opium. Her Ladyship, being practically ignorant as to the exact nature of the drug and of the effect it would have on a man who was saturated with it, gave his Lordship too small a dose. Nevertheless, he became immediately stupefied."

"Now, how on earth can you know that?"

"Very easily, my lord. If his Lordship had not been rendered at once unconscious, he would—knowing that an attempt had been made to drug him—have sounded the alarm and deputed Mustapha to guard her Ladyship, which was what he always did when he knew that he was not equal to the task."

"Well, that sounds plausible, at all events," acknowledged Cyril.

"As soon as her Ladyship knew that she was no longer watched," continued the detective, "she at once set to work to disguise herself. As we know, she had provided herself with clothes, but I fancy her hair, her most noticeable feature, must have caused her some anxious moments."

"She may have worn a wig," suggested Cyril, hoping that Judson would accept this explanation of the difficulty, in which case he would be able triumphantly to demolish the latter's theory of the girl's identity, by stating that he could positively swear that her hair was her own.

"No, my lord. After carefully investigating the matter I have come to the conclusion that she did not. And my reasons are, first, that no hairdresser in Newhaven has lately sold a dark wig to any one, and, secondly, that no parcel arrived, addressed either to her Ladyship or to Prentice, which could have contained such an article. On the other hand, as his Lordship had for years dyed his hair and beard, her Ladyship had only to go into his dressing-room to procure a very simple means of transforming herself."

"But doesn't it take ages to dye hair?" asked Cyril.

"If it is done properly, yes; but the sort of stain his Lordship used can be very quickly applied. I do not believe it took her Ladyship more than half an hour to dye enough of her hair to escape notice, but in all probability she had no time to do it very thoroughly and that which escaped may have turned white. I don't know anything about that."

This was a possibility which had not occurred to Cyril; but still he refused to be convinced.

"Very well, my lord. Let me continue my story: Before her Ladyship had completed her preparations, his Lordship awoke from his stupor."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because, if his Lordship had not tried to prevent her escape, she would have had no reason for killing him. Probably they had a struggle, her hand fell on the pistol, and the deed was done——"

"But what about the ruined picture?"

"Her Ladyship, knowing that there was no other portrait of her in existence, destroyed it in order to make it difficult for the police to follow her."

"H'm," grunted Cyril. "You make her Ladyship out a nice, cold-blooded, calculating sort of person. If you think she at all resembles the young lady at the nursing home, I can only tell you that you are vastly mistaken."

"As I have not the honour of knowing the lady in question, I cannot form any opinion as to that. But let us continue: I wish to confess at once that I am not at all sure how her Ladyship reached Newhaven. That waiting automobile complicates matters. On the face of it, it seems as if it must have some connection with the case. I have also a feeling that it has, and yet for the life of me I cannot discover the connecting link. Whatever the younger man was, the elder was undoubtedly a Frenchman, and I have ascertained that with the exception of an old French governess, who lived with her Ladyship before her marriage, and of Mustapha and Valdriguez, Lady Wilmersley knew no foreigner whatever. Besides, these two men seem to have been motoring about the country almost at random, and it may have been the merest accident which brought them to the foot of the long lane just at the time when her Ladyship was in all probability leaving the castle. Whether they gave her a lift as far as Newhaven, I do not know. How her Ladyship reached the town constitutes the only serious—I will not call it break—but hiatus—in my theory. From half-past six the next morning, however, her movements can be easily followed. A young lady, dressed as you know, approached the station with obvious nervousness. Three things attracted the attention of the officials: first, the discrepancy between the simplicity, I might almost say the poverty, of her clothes, and the fact that she purchased a first-class ticket; secondly, that she did not wish her features to be seen; and thirdly, that she had no luggage except a small hand-bag. How her Ladyship managed to elude the police, and what has subsequently occurred to her, I do not need to tell your Lordship."

"You haven't in the least convinced me that the young lady is her Ladyship, not in the least. You yourself admit that there is a hiatus in your story; well, that hiatus is to me a gulf which you have failed to bridge. Because one lady disappears from Geralton and another appears the next morning in Newhaven, you insist the two are identical. But you have not offered me one iota of proof that such is the case."

"What more proof do you want? She is the only person who left Newhaven by train or boat who even vaguely resembled her Ladyship."

"That means nothing. Her Ladyship may not have come to Newhaven at all, but have been driven to some hiding-place in the Frenchman's car."

"I think that quite impossible, for every house, every cottage, every stable and barn even, for twenty-five miles around, has been carefully searched. Besides, this would mean that the murder had been premeditated and the coming of the motor had been pre-arranged; and lastly, as the gardener's wife testifies that the car left Geralton certainly no earlier than eleven-thirty, and as the two men reached the hotel before twelve, this precludes the possibility that they could have done more than drive straight back to the Inn, as the motor is by no means a fast one."

"But, my man, they may have secreted her Ladyship in the town itself and have taken her with them to France the next morning."

"Impossible. In the first place, they left alone, the porter saw them off; and secondly, no one except the two Frenchmen purchased a ticket for the continent either in the Newhaven office or on the boat."

Cyril rose from his seat. Judson's logic was horribly convincing; no smallest detail had apparently escaped him. As the man piled argument on argument, he had found himself slowly and grudgingly accepting his conclusions.

"As you are in my employ, I take it for granted that you will not inform the police or the press of your—suspicions," he said at last.

"Certainly not, my lord. On the other hand, I must ask you to allow me to withdraw from the case."

"But why?" exclaimed Cyril.

"Because my duty to you, as my client, prevents me from taking any further steps in this matter."

"I don't understand you!"

"I gather that you are less anxious to clear up the mystery than to protect her Ladyship. Am I not right?"

"Yes," acknowledged Cyril.

"You would even wish me to assist you in providing a safe retreat for her."

"Exactly."

"Well, my lord, that is just what I cannot do. It is my duty, as I conceive it, to hold my tongue, but I should not feel justified in aiding her Ladyship to escape the consequences of her—her—action. In order to be faithful to my engagement to you, I am willing to let the public believe that I have made a failure of the case. I shall not even allow my imagination to dwell on your future movements, but more than that I cannot do."

"You take the position that her Ladyship is an ordinary criminal, but you must realise that that is absurd. Even granting that she is responsible for her husband's death—of which, by the way, we have no absolute proof—are you not able to make allowances for a poor woman goaded to desperation by an opium fiend?"

"I do not constitute myself her Ladyship's judge, but I don't think your Lordship quite realises all that you are asking of me. Even if I were willing to waive the question of my professional honour, I should still decline to undertake a task which, I know, is foredoomed to failure. For, if I discovered Lady Wilmersley with so little difficulty, Scotland Yard is bound to do so before long. The trail is too unmistakable. It is impossible—absolutely impossible, I assure you, that the secret can be kept."

Cyril moved uneasily.

"I wish I could convince your Lordship of this and induce you to allow the law to take its course. Her Ladyship ought to come forward at once and plead justifiable homicide. If she waits till she is arrested, it will tell heavily against her."

"But she is ill, really ill," insisted Cyril. "Dr. Stuart-Smith tells me that if she is not kept perfectly quiet for the next few weeks, her nervous system may never recover from the shock."

"H'm! That certainly complicates the situation; on the other hand, you must remember that discovery is not only inevitable but imminent, and that the police will not stop to consider her Ladyship's nervous system. No, my lord, the only thing for you to do is to break the news to her yourself and to persuade her to give herself up. If you don't, you will both live to regret it."

"That may be so," replied Cyril after a minute's hesitation, "but in this matter I must judge for myself. I still hope that you are wrong and that either the young woman in question is not Lady Wilmersley or that it was not her Ladyship who killed my cousin, and I refuse to jeopardise her life till I am sure that there is no possibility of your having made a mistake. But don't throw up the case yet. So far you have only sought for evidence which would strengthen your theory of her Ladyship's guilt, now I want you to look at the case from a fresh point of view. I want you to start all over again and to work on the assumption that her Ladyship did not fire the shot. I cannot accept your conclusion as final till we have exhausted every other possibility. These Frenchmen, for instance, have they or have they not a connection with the case? And then there is Valdriguez. Why have you never suspected her? At the inquest she acknowledged that no one had seen her leave her Ladyship's apartments and we have only her word for it that she spent the evening in her room."

"True. But, if I went on the principle of suspecting every one who cannot prove themselves innocent, I should soon be lost in a quagmire of barren conjectures. Of course, I have considered Valdriguez, but I can find no reason for suspecting her."

"Well, I could give you a dozen reasons."

"Indeed, my lord, and what are they?"

"In the first place, we know that she is a hard, unprincipled woman, or she would never have consented to aid my cousin in depriving his unfortunate wife of her liberty. A woman who would do that, is capable of any villainy. Then, on the witness-stand didn't you feel that she was holding something back? Oh, I forgot you were not present at the inquest."

"I was there, my lord, but I took good care that no one should recognise me."

"Well, and what impression did she make on you?"

"A fairly favourable one, my lord. I think she spoke the truth and I fancy that she is almost a religious fanatic."

"You don't mean to say, Judson, that you allowed yourself to be taken in by her sanctimonious airs and the theatrical way that she kept clutching at that cross on her breast? A religious fanatic indeed! Why, don't you see that no woman with a spark of religion in her could have allowed her mistress to be treated as Lady Wilmersley was?"

"Quite so, my lord, and it is because Valdriguez impressed me as an honest old creature that I am still doubtful whether her Ladyship is insane or not, and this uncertainty hampers me very much in my work."

"Lady Upton assured me that her granddaughter's mind had never been unbalanced and that his Lordship, although he frequently wrote to her, had never so much as hinted at such a thing; and if you believe the young lady at the nursing home to be Lady Wilmersley, I give you my word that she shows no sign of mental derangement."

"Well, that seems pretty final, and yet—and yet—I cannot believe that Valdriguez is a vicious woman. A man in my profession acquires a curious instinct in such matters, my lord." The detective paused a moment and when he began again, he spoke almost as if he were reasoning with himself. "Now, if my estimate of Valdriguez is correct, and if it is also a fact that Lady Wilmersley has never been insane, there are certainly possibilities connected with this affair which I have by no means exhausted—and so, my lord, I am not only willing but anxious to continue on the case, if you will agree to allow me to ignore her Ladyship's existence."

"Certainly. But tell me, Judson, how can you hope to reconcile two such absolutely contradictory facts?"

"Two such apparently contradictory facts," gently corrected the detective. "Well, my lord, I propose to find out more of this woman's antecedents. I have several times tried to get her to talk, but so far without the least success. She says that she will answer any question put to her on the witness-stand, but that it is against her principles to gossip about her late master and mistress. She is equally reticent as to her past life and when I told her that her silence seemed to me very suspicious, she demanded—suspicious of what? She went on to say that she could not see that it was anybody's business, where she lived or what she had done, and that she had certainly no intention of gratifying my idle curiosity; and that was the last word I could get out of her. Although she treated me so cavalierly, I confess to a good deal of sympathy with her attitude."

"Have you questioned Mrs. Eversley about her?" asked Cyril. "She was housekeeper here when Valdriguez first came to Geralton and ought to be able to tell you what sort of person she was in her youth."

"Mrs. Eversley speaks well of her. The only thing she told me which may have a bearing on the case is, that in the old days his Lordship appeared to admire Valdriguez very much."

"Ah! I thought so," cried Cyril.

"But we cannot be too sure of this, my lord. For when I tried to find out what grounds she had for her statement, she had so little proof to offer that I cannot accept her impression as conclusive evidence. As far as I can make out, the gossip about them was started by his Lordship going to the Catholic church in Newhaven."

"By going to the Catholic church!" exclaimed Cyril.

"Exactly. Not a very compromising act on his Lordship's part, one would think. But as his Lordship was not a Catholic, his doing so naturally aroused a good deal of comment. At first the neighbourhood feared that he had been converted by his mother, who had often lamented that she had not been allowed to bring up her son in her own faith. It was soon noticed, however, that whenever his Lordship attended a popish service, his mother's pretty maid was invariably present, and so people began to put two and two together and before long it was universally assumed that she was the magnet which had drawn him away from his own church. I asked Mrs. Eversley if they had been seen together elsewhere, and she reluctantly admitted that they had. On several occasions they were seen walking in the Park but always, so Mrs. Eversley assured me, in full view of the castle. She had felt it her duty to speak to Valdriguez on the subject, and the latter told her that his Lordship was interested in her religion and that she was willing to run the risk of having her conduct misconstrued if she could save his soul from eternal damnation. She also gave Mrs. Eversley to understand that she had her mistress's sanction, and as her Ladyship treated Valdriguez more as a companion and friend than as a maid, Mrs. Eversley thought this quite likely and did not venture to remonstrate further. So the intimacy, if such it could be called, continued as before. What the outcome of this state of things would have been we do not know, for shortly afterwards both Lord and Lady Wilmersley died and Valdriguez left Geralton. When his Lordship went away a few weeks later, a good many people suspected that he had joined her on the continent. Mrs. Eversley, however, does not believe this. She has the most absolute confidence in Valdriguez's virtue, and I think her testimony is pretty reliable."

"Bah! Mrs. Eversley is an honest, simple old soul. A clever adventuress would have little difficulty in hoodwinking her. Mark my words, you have found the key to the mystery. What more likely than that his Lordship—whose morals, even as a boy, were none of the best—seduced Valdriguez and that she returned to Geralton so as to have the opportunity of avenging her wrongs."

"I can think of nothing more unlikely than that his Lordship should have selected his cast-off mistress as his wife's attendant," Judson drily remarked.

"Not at all. You didn't know him," replied Cyril. "I can quite fancy that the situation would have appealed to his cynical humour."

"Your opinion of the late Lord Wilmersley is certainly not flattering, but even if we take for granted that such an arrangement would not have been impossible to his Lordship, I still refuse to believe that Valdriguez would have agreed to it; even assuming that his Lordship had wronged her and that she had nursed a murderous resentment against him all these years, I cannot see how she could have hoped to further her object by accepting the humiliating position of his wife's maid. It also seems to me incredible that a woman whose passions were so violent as to find expression in murder could have controlled them during a lifetime. But leaving aside these considerations, I have another reason to urge against your theory: Would his Lordship have trusted a woman who, he knew, had a grievance against him, as he certainly trusted Valdriguez? She had free access to his apartments. What was there to have prevented her from giving him an overdose of some drug during one of the many times when he was half-stupefied with opium? Nothing. The risk of detection would have been infinitesimal. No, my lord, why Valdriguez returned to Geralton is an enigma, I grant you, but your explanation does not satisfy me."

"As long as you acknowledge that Valdriguez's presence here needs an explanation and are willing to work to find that explanation, I don't care whether you accept my theory or not; all I want to get at is the truth."

"The truth, my lord," said the detective, as he rose to take his leave, "is often more praised than appreciated."