as she
wants to start abroad for the winter. The bad weather in England is
affecting her, it seems."

And so, with much regret expressed by little Ninette and her mother, Sir
Hugh Elcombe and his stepdaughter went to their rooms to see about their
packing.

Both were puzzled. The sudden appearance of those strange men out of the
darkness had frightened Enid, but she had said nothing. Perhaps it was
upon some private matter that Paul had been summoned. Therefore she had
preserved silence, believing with Blanche that at any moment he might
return.

Back in his room, Sir Hugh closed the door, and, standing in the sunshine
by the window, gazed across the wide valley towards the blue mists
beyond, deep in reflection.

"This curious absence of Paul's forebodes evil," he murmured to himself.

He had slept little that night, being filled with strange apprehensions.
Though he had closely questioned Enid, she would not say what had
actually happened. Her explanation was merely that Paul had been called
away by a man who had met him outside.

The old man sighed, biting his lip. He cursed himself for his dastardly
work, even though he had been compelled by Weirmarsh to execute it on
pain of exposure and consequent ruin.

Against his will, against his better nature, he had been forced to meet
the mysterious doctor of Pimlico in secret on that quiet, wooded by-road
between Marcheville and Saint-Hilaire, four kilometres from the chateau,
and there discuss with him the suggested affair of which they had spoken
in London.

The two men had met at sundown.

"You seem to fear exposure!" laughed the man who provided Sir Hugh with
his comfortable income. "Don't be foolish--there is no danger. Return to
England with Enid as soon as you possibly can without arousing suspicion,
and I will call and see you at Hill Street. I want to have a very serious
chat with you."

Elcombe's grey, weather-worn face grew hard and determined.

"Why are you here, Weirmarsh?" he demanded. "I have helped you and your
infernal friends in the past, but please do not count upon my assistance
in the future. Remember that from to-day our friendship is entirely at an
end."

"As you wish, of course, my dear Sir Hugh," replied the other, with a
nonchalant air. "But if I were you I would not be in too great a hurry to
make such a declaration. You may require a friend in the near future--a
friend like myself."

"Never, I hope--never!" snapped the old gener