The police had more or less taken possession of Ravenspur. They were everywhere asking questions that Tchigorsky took upon himself to answer.

As he had expected, the note carried by Vera and deposited in the farmhouse garden had been found on one of the bodies. The inspector of police was an intelligent man, and he fell in with everything that Tchigorsky suggested.

"Of course you can't read this book," said the Russian as he handed over the fateful diary for safe custody, "but there are one or two Oriental scholars in London who will bear out my testimony. Have you any doubt?"

"Personally not the least," the inspector replied. "You say it is impossible for that woman to get away?"

"Absolutely impossible. She is safe for days."

"Then in that case there is no need to arrest her. That will have to come after the inquest on these men, which we shall hold to-morrow. And what a sensation the case will make! If I had read this thing in a book I should have laughed at it. And now we must have a thorough search for those electrical appliances."

It was long past dinner-time before the police investigations were finished. Aided by Tchigorsky a vast amount of mechanical appliances was found, including the apparatus that was to do so much harm to the Ravenspurs, and which had ended in wrecking the schemes of their arch-enemy.

"Inquest at ten to-morrow, sir," the inspector remarked to Ravenspur. "I am very sorry, but we shall not trouble you more than we can help."

Ravenspur shook his head sadly. He was not particularly versed in the ways of the law, but he could see a long case ahead; and he was beginning to worry about Marion. It was nearly ten o'clock now and the girl had not returned.

It would be a sad home-coming for the girl, but they would all do what they could for her. Everybody appeared to be duly sympathetic except Ralph, who said nothing. Tchigorsky seemed to have obliterated himself entirely.

Geoffrey had retired to the billiard-room, where Vera followed him. They started a game, but their nerves were in no condition to finish it. Cues were flung down and the lovers stood before the fireplace.

"What are you thinking about?" Geoffrey asked.

Vera looked up dreamingly. She touched Geoffrey's cheek caressingly. She looked like one who is happy and yet at the same time ashamed of her own happiness.

"Of many things, pleasant and otherwise," she said. "I am still utterly in the dark myself, but those who know tell me that the shadow has lifted forever. That in itself is so great a joy that I dare not let my mind dwell upon it as yet. To think that we may part and meet again, to think—— But I dare not let my mind dwell upon that. But what has Mrs. May to do with it?"

Vera was not behind the scenes as yet. Still, within a few hours the thing must come out. What the family regarded as a nurse had been procured for the invalid, a nurse who really was a female warder in disguise, and Ravenspur had sternly given strict orders that nobody was to go near that room. He vouchsafed no reason why; he gave the order and it was obeyed.

Then Geoffrey told Vera everything. He went through the whole story from the very beginning. Vera listened as one in a dream. Such wickedness was beyond her comprehension. Awful as the cloud was that had long hung over the house of Ravenspur, Vera had not imagined it to be lined with such depravity as this.

"And so that inhuman wretch is Marion's mother?" said Vera. "The child of a creature who deliberately murdered a husband and tried to destroy his family so that she could get everything into her hands! No wonder that Marion has been a changed creature since this Mrs. May has been about! How I pity her anguish and condition of mind! But had Marion a sister?"

"Not that I ever heard of. Why?"

"I was thinking of that other girl, the girl so like Marion that you were talking about just now. What has become of her?"

Geoffrey shook his head. He had forgotten that most mysterious personage. It was more than likely, he explained, that Tchigorsky would know. Not that it much mattered. The two were silent for some little time, then a peal of laughter from the drawing-room caused them to smile.

"My mother," said Vera. "I have not heard her laugh like that for years. Does it not seem funny to realize that before long we shall be laughing and chatting and moving with the world once more, Geoff? I should like to leave Ravenspur and have a long, long holiday on the Continent."

Geoffrey stooped and kissed her.

"So you shall, sweet," he said. "We can be married now. And when we come back to Ravenspur it will be the dear old home I recollect in my childhood's days. Vera, you and I shall be the happiest couple in the world."

They went back to the drawing room again. Here the elders were conversing quietly yet happily. There was an air of cheerful gaiety upon them that the house had not know for many a long day.

Gordon Ravenspur was impressing upon his father the necessity of looking more sharply after the shooting. The head of the family had before him some plans of new farm buildings.

It was marvelous what a change the last few hours had wrought. And the author of all the sorrow and anguish was upstairs guarded by eyes that never tired.

"How bright and cheerful you look," Vera said. "It only wants one thing to make the picture complete. You can guess, dear grandfather."

"Marion," Ravenspur said. "Marion, of course."

"She will come back," Ralph murmured. "Marion will return. We know now that no harm could come to the girl. I should not wonder if she were not on her way home this very moment."

Half an hour passed, an hour elapsed, and yet no Marion. They were all getting uneasy but Ralph, who sat doggedly in his chair. Then there was a commotion outside, the door opened, and Marion came in.

She looked pale and uneasy. She glanced from one to the other with frightened eyes. It was easy to see that she was greatly moved and, moreover, was not sure as to the warmth of her reception. But she might have made her mind easy on that score. All rose to welcome her.

"My dear, dear child," Vera cried. "Where have you been?"

Vera fluttered forward and took off Marion's cloak. All seemed to be delighted. Marion dropped into a chair with quivering smile. Ralph had felt his way across to her and stood by the side of her chair.

"I fancied I had made a discovery," she said. "It occurred to me perhaps——. But don't let us talk about myself. Has anything happened here?"

"Much," Ralph cried. "Great things. The mystery is solved."

"Solved?" Marion gasped. "You have found the culprit?"

"The culprit is in the house. She is Mrs. May. I prefer to call her Princess Zara; and yet again I might call her Mrs. Ravenspur, wife of the late Jasper Ravenspur. Marion, we have found your mother."

Marion said nothing. Her head had fallen forward and she sat swaying in her chair. There was a hard yet pleading look in her eyes. Ralph bent down and drew her none too tenderly to her feet.

"The she-wolf is yonder, the cub is here," he cried. "Are you going to speak or shall I tell the story? Speak, or let me do so." Ravenspur sprang forward angrily.

"What are you doing?" he cried. "To lay hand on that angel——"

"Ay," said Ralph, "an angel truly, but a fallen one—Lucifer in the dust."