y and I close behind her. At last
the secret which had defied us was to be revealed. And with its
revelation would come the end of the picturesque and romantic theory
we had been building up so laboriously.

Instinctively, I glanced toward the shuttered window, but the
semi-circle of light was unobscured.

The veiled lady bent above the table and disposed the fingers of her
right hand to fit the metal inlay midway of the left side.

"It is a little awkward," she said. "I have always been accustomed to
using the left hand. You will notice that I am pressing on three
points; but to open the drawer, one must press these points in a
certain order--- first this one, then this one, and then this one."

There was a sharp click, and, at the side of the table, a piece of
the metal inlay fell forward.

"That is the handle," said the veiled lady, and, without an instant's
hesitation, while my heart stood still, she grasped it and drew out a
shallow drawer. "Ah!" and, casting aside the ridiculous gauntlet, she
caught up the packet of papers which lay within. Then, with an
effort, she controlled herself, slipped off the ribbon which held the
packet together, and spread out before my eyes ten or twelve
envelopes. "You will see that they are only letters, Mr. Lester," she
said in a low voice, "and I assure you that they belong to me."

"I believe you, madame," I said, and with a sigh of relief that was
almost a sob, she rebound the packet and slipped it into the bosom of
her gown. "There is one thing," I added, "which madame can, perhaps,
do for me."

"I shall be most happy!" she breathed.

"As I have told Mr. Hornblower," I continued, "two men died in this
room the day before yesterday. Or, rather, it was in the room beyond
that they died; but we believed it was here they received the wounds
which caused death. It seems that we were wrong in this."

"Undoubtedly," she agreed. "There has never been any such weird
mechanism as you described connected with that drawer, Mr. Lester. At
least, not since I have had it. There is a legend, you know, that the
cabinet was made for Madame de Montespan."

She was talking more freely now; evidently a great load had been
lifted from her--perhaps I did not guess how great!

"Mr. Vantine suspected as much," I said. "He was a connoisseur of
furniture, and there was something about this cabinet which told him
it had belonged to the Montespan. He was examining it at the time he
died. What