rdly felt the prick,
not sufficiently in any case to make her utter a scream. And, mind you,
the scoundrel had every facility, through his friendship with Mr.
Errington, of procuring what poison he required, not to mention his
friend's visiting card. We cannot gauge how many months ago he began to
try and copy Frank Errington in his style of dress, the cut of his
moustache, his general appearance, making the change probably so
gradual, that no one in his own _entourage_ would notice it. He
selected for his model a man his own height and build, with the same
coloured hair."

"But there was the terrible risk of being identified by his
fellow-traveller in the Underground," suggested Polly.

"Yes, there certainly was that risk; he chose to take it, and he was
wise. He reckoned that several days would in any case elapse before that
person, who, by the way, was a business man absorbed in his newspaper,
would actually see him again. The great secret of successful crime is to
study human nature," added the man in the corner, as he began looking
for his hat and coat. "Edward Hazeldene knew it well."

"But the ring?"

"He may have bought that when he was on his honeymoon," he suggested
with a grim chuckle; "the tragedy was not planned in a week, it may have
taken years to mature. But you will own that there goes a frightful
scoundrel unhung. I have left you his photograph as he was a year ago,
and as he is now. You will see he has shaved his beard again, but also
his moustache. I fancy he is a friend now of Mr. Andrew Campbell."

He left Miss Polly Burton wondering, not knowing what to believe.

And that is why she missed her appointment with Mr. Richard Frobisher
(of the _London Mail_) to go and see Maud Allan dance at the Palace
Theatre that afternoon.

CHAPTER XII

THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY

"A title--a foreign title, I mean--is always very useful for purposes of
swindles and frauds," remarked the man in the corner to Polly one day.
"The cleverest robberies of modern times were perpetrated lately in
Vienna by a man who dubbed himself Lord Seymour; whilst over here the
same class of thief calls himself Count Something ending in 'o,' or
Prince the other, ending in 'off.'"

"Fortunately for our hotel and lodging-house keepers over here," she
replied, "they are beginning to be more alive to the ways of foreign
swindlers, and look upon all titled gentry who speak broken English as
possible swindlers or thieves."