the fellow was an absolute scoundrel."

"And you, of course, know about the incident of a man closely
resembling the French detective Guertin being found dead outside the
door of the Elms?"

"Certainly," was his reply; "that is still a complete mystery which
can only be solved by Poland himself. He must know, or else have a
shrewd idea of what occurred."

As we chatted on for a long time, he told me frankly many things of
which I had not the least suspicion, at the same time assuring me of
Sonia's deep devotion towards me, and of his confidence that she had
left me because she believed being at her father's side would ensure
my own safety.

And now that I knew so much of the truth I longed hourly to meet her,
and to obtain from her--and perhaps from the lips of Philip Poland
himself--the remaining links in that remarkable chain of facts.

CHAPTER THIRTY

CONCLUSION

About ten days afterwards I one morning received by post a brief note
from Guertin, written from the Prefecture in Paris, urging me to go at
once to the Victoria Hotel at Varenna, on the Lake of Como, where, if
I waited in the name of Brown, my patience would be rewarded.

And there, sure enough, six days later, as I sat one evening in my
private sitting-room, the door suddenly opened and my well-beloved, in
a dark travelling gown, sprang forward and embraced me, sobbing for
very joy.

Can I adequately describe the happiness of that reunion. Of what I
uttered I have no recollection, for I held her closely in my arms as I
kissed her hot tears away.

A man stood by--a tall, silent, gentlemanly man, whose hair was grey,
and whose face as he advanced beneath the strong light showed traces
of disguise.

"I am Philip Poland--Sonia's father," he exclaimed in a low voice.
Whereupon I took the hand of the escaped prisoner, and expressed the
utmost satisfaction at that meeting, for he had risked his liberty to
come there to me.

"Sonia has told me everything," he said; "and I can only regret that
those blackguards have treated you and her as they have. But Guertin,
who is a humane man, even though he be a detective, has tracked them
down, and only yesterday I heard Du Cane--the man who made that false
charge against myself, and stepped into my shoes; the man who intended
that my poor girl should marry that young scoundrel Forbes--has been
discovered in Breslau, and is being extradited to England."

"On the night of your arrest, Mr. Poland, a