e was a blackguardly adventurer, anyhow. He had addressed her as
"dear," and had been solicitous of her welfare throughout! To him she
had signalled from her box in the theatre, well knowing that he was
making secret preparations for her elopement. Indeed, she had written
that note and placed it upon my blotting-pad before we had gone forth
together, she well knowing that she would never again re-cross my
threshold.

Ah! The poignant bitterness of it all had gripped my heart. My cup of
unhappiness was now assuredly full.

How brief had been my joy; how quickly my worst fears had been
realized.

About the quiet, old-world decaying town I wandered, hardly knowing
whither I went. When, every now and then, in the fading light, I found
myself going into the country I turned back, mindful of my promise not
to leave the place without permission.

About six I returned to the George and sat beside the fire in the
lounge--in that selfsame chair where my fugitive wife had sat. I was
eager to renew the chase, yet until I received word from the police I
was compelled to remain helpless.

Old Cross, the boots, became inquisitive, but I evaded his questions,
and ate my dinner alone in the small cosy coffee-room, awaiting the
reappearance of Inspector Deane. I had given my chauffeur liberty till
eight o'clock, but I was all anxiety to drive back to London.

Still, if I returned, what could I do? Sylvia and her companions had
driven away--whither was a mystery.

The Criminal Investigation Department had already issued an official
description of the persons wanted, for while I had been at the
police-office the inspector had been closely questioning the man Cross
and Miss Hammond.

Already the police drag-net was out, and the combined police forces of
Europe would, in an hour or two, be on the watch for Sylvia and her
mysterious companions.

So far as the United Kingdom was concerned sixty thousand officers,
detectives and constables would be furnished with a complete
description of those who had held that secret consultation. The
tightest of tight cordons would be drawn. Every passenger who embarked
at English ports for abroad would be carefully scrutinized by
plain-clothes men. Every hotel-keeper, not only in London, but in the
remote villages and hamlets would be closely questioned as to the
identity and recent movements of his guests. Full descriptions of
Sylvia and her friends would be cabled to America, and the American