ghter of mine
in Marylebone. Mr. Wilson was in the house when I left at ten in the
morning, but said nothing about going away. When I returned at six in
the evening I found that he was gone bag and baggage, and that he had
left his rent on the table. Also a note saying that he was suddenly
called away and would not return."

"Have you the note?" asked Steel, thinking it just as well to have some
specimen of Wilson's handwriting.

Mrs. Benker shook her head. "I burnt it," she replied; "it was only
written in pencil and not worth keeping. I must say that Mr. Wilson
always behaved like a gentleman, although I saw little of him. He was
queer in his habits."

"How do you mean--'queer'?"

"Well, sir, I hardly ever saw him in the daytime, and when I did he
usually kept his blinds down in his room, as he suffered from weak eyes.
Even when he saw Alexander in the evening he would hardly have any
light. Then sometimes he would lie in bed all the day, and be out all
the night. At other times he would stay at home the whole of the
twenty-four hours. But he always paid his rent regularly, and gave
little trouble over his food. Yes," added Mrs. Benker, smoothing her
apron, "Mr. Wilson was always a gentleman. I will say that."

"Humph!" thought Steel, taking all this in eagerly. "A queer kind of
gentleman," he added aloud. "Did you know anything else about him, Mrs.
Benker?"

"No, sir." She drew herself up primly. "I never pry--never."

"Did any one call to see Mr. Wilson?"

"No one. All the time he was here not one person called."

"Did he receive any letters?"

"No. Not one letter arrived."

"Queer," murmured Steel. "What newspaper did he take?"

"The _Morning Post_. Also he took the _World_, _Truth_, _Modern
Society_, and _M. A. P._ He was fond of the fashionable intelligence."

"Oh, he was, was he? Would you have called him a gentleman?"

"He always paid his rent duly," hesitated Mrs. Benker, "so far he was a
perfect gentleman. But I have lived as a lady's maid in the best
families, sir, and I don't think Mr. Wilson was what you or I would call
an aristocrat."

"I see. So you were a lady's maid once. In what families?"

Mrs. Benker was not at all averse to relating her better days, and did
so with pride. "I was with the Countess of Flint, with Mrs. Harwitch,
and with Lady Susan Summersdale."

"Ha!" said Steel, starting. He remembered that Morley had been concerned
with Lady Summersdale about the robbery of he