etired and lives in
Camberwell. It is this Miss Dobney who has consulted me. Nearly five
weeks have passed without a word. The last letter was from the Hotel
National at Lausanne. Lady Frances seems to have left there and given
no address. The family are anxious, and as they are exceedingly
wealthy no sum will be spared if we can clear the matter up."

"Is Miss Dobney the only source of information? Surely she had other
correspondents?"

"There is one correspondent who is a sure draw, Watson. That is the
bank. Single ladies must live, and their passbooks are compressed
diaries. She banks at Silvester's. I have glanced over her account.
The last check but one paid her bill at Lausanne, but it was a large
one and probably left her with cash in hand. Only one check has been
drawn since."

"To whom, and where?"

"To Miss Marie Devine. There is nothing to show where the check was
drawn. It was cashed at the Credit Lyonnais at Montpellier less than
three weeks ago. The sum was fifty pounds."

"And who is Miss Marie Devine?"

"That also I have been able to discover. Miss Marie Devine was the
maid of Lady Frances Carfax. Why she should have paid her this check
we have not yet determined. I have no doubt, however, that your
researches will soon clear the matter up."

"MY researches!"

"Hence the health-giving expedition to Lausanne. You know that I
cannot possibly leave London while old Abrahams is in such mortal
terror of his life. Besides, on general principles it is best that I
should not leave the country. Scotland Yard feels lonely without me,
and it causes an unhealthy excitement among the criminal classes. Go,
then, my dear Watson, and if my humble counsel can ever be valued at so
extravagant a rate as two pence a word, it waits your disposal night
and day at the end of the Continental wire."

Two days later found me at the Hotel National at Lausanne, where I
received every courtesy at the hands of M. Moser, the well-known
manager. Lady Frances, as he informed me, had stayed there for several
weeks. She had been much liked by all who met her. Her age was not
more than forty. She was still handsome and bore every sign of having
in her youth been a very lovely woman. M. Moser knew nothing of any
valuable jewellery, but it had been remarked by the servants that the
heavy trunk in the lady's bedroom was always scrupulously locked.
Marie Devine, the maid, was as popular as her mistress. She w