l, flat parcel
addressed to David Steel, Esq. The novelist tore off the cover and
disclosed a heap of crackling white papers beneath. Rapidly he fluttered
the crisp sheets over--seventy-five Bank of England notes for L10 each.

It was the balance of the loan, the price paid for Steel's presence. All
he had to do now was to place the money in his pocket and walk out of the
house. A few steps and he would be free with nobody to say him nay. It
was a temptation, but Steel fought it down. He slipped the precious notes
into his pocket and buttoned his coat tightly over them. He had no fear
for the coming day now.

"And yet," he murmured, "what of the price I shall have to pay for this?"

Well, it was worth a ransom. And, so long as there was nothing
dishonourable attached to it, Steel was prepared to redeem his pledge. He
knew perfectly well from bitter experience that the poor man pays
usurious rates for fortune's favours. And he was not without a strange
sense of gratitude. If--

Click, click, click. Three electric switches were snapped off almost
simultaneously outside, and the dining-room was plunged into pitchy
darkness. Steel instantly caught up a chair. He was no coward, but he was
a novelist with a novelist's imagination. As he stood there the sweetest,
most musical laugh in the world broke on his ear. He caught the swish of
silken drapery and the subtle scent that suggested the fragrance of a
woman's hair. It was vague, undefined, yet soothing.

"Pray be seated, Mr. Steel," the silvery voice said. "Believe me, had
there been any other way, I would not have given you all this trouble.
You found the parcel addressed to you? It is an earnest of good faith. Is
not that a correct English expression?"

David murmured that it was. But what did the speaker mean? She asked the
question like a student of the English language, yet her accent and
phrasing were perfect. She laughed again noiselessly, and once more Steel
caught the subtle, entrancing perfume.

"I make no further apology for dragging you here at this time," the sweet
voice said. "We knew that you were in the habit of sitting up alone late
at night, hence the telephone message. You will perhaps wonder how we
came to know so much of your private affairs. Rest assured that we learnt
nothing in Brighton. Presently you may gather why I am so deeply
interested in you; I have been for the past fortnight. You see, we were
not quite certain that you would come to ou