It would take too long to relate the history of Helen's illness as Helen
heard it from Gladys's lips, with all the details and exagertions, so
we will go back a little bit and see what happened after Helen swooned
away.

CHAPTER 27

THE CONTENTS OF THE CHEST

As soon as Netherby (the clerk) saw what had happened he at once called
for Marshland, who was sitting in the parlour in a state of utter
collapse. On hearing that her precious Miss Helen had fainted, the good
old woman ran at once to the office room.

Helen lay perfectly white and still upon the floor with Cyril's fatal
letter clenched in her hand. Marshland instantly knelt down and placed
her head at Helen's heart. "She is not dead" she cried triumphantly.

"What can we do?" asked Netherby in a shaky voice.

"I'll tell you" said Marshland getting up off the floor, you must take a
cab and drive as fast as you can to Portman Square number 26, Miss
Lincarrol is staying there with Lord Beaufort and I think her brother
too; they are all staunch friends of Miss Helen's I know they will come
at once, we can make no move, friendless as we are, without the help of
Mr. Lincarrol or some one."

"Stop a bit" cried Netherby regaining his courage all of a sudden;
something tells me the story Mr. Sheene speaks of in his letter is
somewhere in the private chest, and as it is evidently meant for Miss
Winston's private reading, I'll trouble you Mr. Wilson to let those
papers alone and give me up the key."

"What right have you to the key any more than me?" asked Wilson
sullenly.

"None I suppose" replied Netherby "but I know that you are subjecting
yourself to the penalty of the law by ransacking that private chest, "I
shall inform the police if you dont instantly deliver the key."

Netherby's altered manner rather cowed Wilson so very sulkily he gave up
the key.

Then with a set determination Netherby collected all the papers etc:
which Wilson had strewn over the desks tying them firmly together placed
them back in the chest.

"Have you any more?" asked he before locking the chest.

"No" stoutly declared Mr. Wilson.

"I'm not so eager to belive you" replied Netherby.

"Why not?" enquired Wilson savagely.

"Because you're not extra fond of the truth" replied Netherby "and I'd
rather satisfy myself that you have no more papers about you before I
lock the chest."

"You'd better dare lay a finger on me" hissed Wilson.

"I dont want to" replied Nethe