s own room, but as be
sat down to it Hepsy brought him a note. A slip of a lad had delivered
it, she said, and was waiting for an answer.

Malcolm had never seen the handwriting before, but he at once guessed
it was from Leah--and he was right. It was written in pencil, and was
without any conventional beginning or end.

"I am not going out this morning--will you come straight to 12 Gresham
Gardens? If you come early you will find me alone. Saul went to Oxford
last night, and will be back by mid-day. Send answer by bearer."

Malcolm wrote a few words--"Many thanks. Will be with you as early as
possible;" then he made a hasty meal, for he felt there was no time to
be lost; and as he walked to Sloane Square station his thoughts were
full of perplexity. Why had Saul Jacobi gone down to Oxford--on what
new mischief was he bent? Malcolm felt he had good reason for his
fears. Cedric's weak, impressionable nature would be like wax in the
hands of this unscrupulous adventurer; he would simply mould him to his
will; the poor lad's passionate love for his sister would be turned to
account and made to further his own wily purposes. Malcolm groaned
inwardly, as he realised that their sole chance lay with Leah herself.
Her message had given him a shade of hope, but he would not allow
himself to be sanguine; he knew too well that women of Leah's calibre
were not always to be depended on; in such cases one must reckon with
moods and impulses. Her brother dominated her; he was the evil genius
of her life. How could any one hope to influence her, when she, poor
soul, lived under a reign of terror? One might as well ask some
wretched prisoner to break off the fetters that bound him, as to expect
Leah Jacobi to walk out of that house of bondage a free woman.

Malcolm found it impossible to rid himself of these gloomy forebodings;
nevertheless he made such good speed that it was barely half-past nine
when he stood in the stone porch of 12 Gresham Gardens. It was evident
that he was expected, for though the maid who admitted him regarded him
somewhat curiously, she did not ask his name, but conducted him at once
upstairs to a handsome drawing-room where a fire was burning.

The little fox-terriers, Tim and Tartar, began barking furiously at the
sight of a stranger; but before Malcolm could quiet them the plush
curtains that veiled the archway were thrown back and Leah entered from
an inner room.

Malcolm was quite shocked when he saw