hough
you had to take a very round-about journey."

"Yes. I got to Switzerland, then to Italy, and from Genoa took an Anchor
Line steamer across to New York. After that I came over to Liverpool,
and in the meantime I had become Mrs. Bond. Louise, of course, thought
we were travelling for pleasure. I had to explain my change of name by
telling her that I did not wish my divorced husband to know that I was
back in England."

"And the girl believed it, of course," he laughed.

"Of course. She believes anything I tell her," said the clever,
unscrupulous woman for whom the Paris police were in active search,
whose real name was Molly Maxwell, and whose amazing career was well
known to the French police.

Only recently a sum of a quarter of a million francs had fallen into
her hands, and with it she now rented Shapley Manor and had set up as
a country lady. Benton gazed around the fine old room with its Adams
ceiling and its Georgian furniture, and reflected how different were
Molly's present surroundings from that stuffy little flat _au troisieme_
in the Rue Racine.

"Yes," he said. "You had a very narrow escape, Molly. I dared not come
near you, but I knew that you'd look after the girl."

"Of course. I always look after her as though she were my own child."

Benton's lip curled as he sipped his China tea, and said:

"Because so much depends upon her--eh? I'm glad you view the situation
from a fair and proper stand-point. We're now out for a big thing,
therefore we must not allow any little hitch to prevent us from bringing
it off successfully."

"I quite agree, Charles. Our great asset is Louise. But she must be
innocent of it all. She must know absolutely nothing."

"True. If she had an inkling that we were forcing her to marry Hugh she
would fiercely resent it. She's a girl of spirit, after all."

"My dear Charles, I know that," laughed the woman. "Ever since she came
home from school I've noticed how independent she is. She certainly
has a will of her own. But she likes Hugh, and we must encourage it.
Recollect that a fortune is at stake."

"I have not overlooked that," the man said. "But of late I've come
to fear that we are treading upon thin ice. I don't like the look of
affairs at the present moment. Young Henfrey is head over ears in love
with that girl Dorise Ranscomb, and--"

"Bah! It's only a flirtation, my dear Charles," laughed the woman.
"When just a little pressure is put upon the boy, and a