no suspicion that John
Steele's pilgrimage to Paris could have been for the purpose of
consulting,--"

"An eminent specialist in the line of removing birth-marks," glancing at
the slip of paper, "or other disfigurements--"

"Such as I described to your lordship from the book that day in the
office," murmured the police agent.

For some moments both were again silent; only the sounds of the wind and
the rain, mingled with monotonous creakings, broke the stillness.

"You say this shipwrecked man was like a Greek statue, half clothed in
rags. Perhaps then," slowly, "since he was only half-clothed the
rescuers might have noticed--"

"I sought them at once," with sudden eagerness, "to verify what your
lordship suggests, and I have their full corroboration; what the
evidence of their eyes told them, that the rescued man bore on his arm
the exact markings described in my book."

"A coincidence not easily accounted for." The speaker's tones had a
rasping sound. "And now--"

"One question, my Lord. He is discerning--knows that you--"

"Knows? Yes; he found that out one day in Hyde Park, never mind how;
about the same time I, too, learned something."

"And yet he deliberately comes down here, dares to leave London where at
least his chances are better for--but why? It is unreasonable; I don't
understand."

"Why?" Lord Ronsdale's smile was not agreeable. "When does a man become
illogical, stray from the path good reasoning should keep him in? When
does he accept chances, however desperate?"

"When?" The police agent's tones expressed vague wonder. "Why,
when--there is a woman in the case!" suddenly.

"A woman, or a girl."

"Your lordship means--"

"One who is beautiful enough to enmesh any man's fancy," he spoke as to
himself, "whose golden hair is a web to draw lovers like the fleece of
old; whose eyes like the sunny heavens tempt them to bask in their
light."

The words were mocking yet seemed to force themselves from his lips.
"When you add that she has high position; is as opulent in the world's
goods as she is rich in personal--" abruptly he paused. "But this is
irrelevant," he added almost angrily. "Is there anything else you have
to tell me?"

"Only one thing, and it may have no bearing on the case; some one who
has not been seen in these parts in years, the red-headed son of the
landlady where the Gerard murder occurred has been back in London,
and--Steele's been looking for him. For what purpose, I d