a penny, and returned forthwith to England. I never saw him
again, nor could I get into communication with him. Two years after my
mad act he died, and never even mentioned me in his will.

"My husband is a liar, a thief, a forger, a gambler, and a brute. He has
maltreated me so that I have been left once or twice for dead, but
finally he broke me to his will. He is known as a cheat in every
gambling resort in Europe, and on the Atlantic liners. Lately I have
been used as a decoy in the way of which you have had experience.
Somehow he learned--indeed, that is his business--who were the rich
travellers on this boat. He thought, as this was the newest and largest
steamship on the ocean, its staff would not at first be thoroughly
organised, and that he might escape detection. He pointed you out to me
as you came on board, and said you were Lord Stranleigh, travelling as
Mr. Trevelyan. The rest you know. He forced me to hand to him the money
you had given, and told me it might be necessary for me to go on the
witness-stand when we reached New York, but, as you were very wealthy,
it is not likely you would allow it to go so far as that. His plan
was to demand a very moderate sum at first, which was to be a mere
beginning, and each exaction would be but a prelude for the next. He is
old at the game, and is wanted now by the authorities in New York for
blackmailing a very well-known millionaire."

"Do you know the name of the millionaire?"

She gave him the information.

"Very well, madam. In the first place, you must do nothing reckless or
foolish. I shall see that this man is detained at New York on some
pretext or other--in fact, I shall arrange for this by wireless. You
should journey to one of the states where divorces are easily obtained.
If you will permit me, I shall be your banker. Even if Branksome
got free in New York, it will cost him dear, and his supplies are
precarious. You should experience no difficulty in evading him with
money in your possession. Do you agree?"

"Oh, yes!"

"That's settled, then. Ponderby, look into the corridor, and see that
the way of escape is clear."

"I am sorry, my lord," she said, rising, "to cause you such trouble and
inconvenience."

"No inconvenience at all," said Stranleigh, with his usual nonchalance,
"and I never allow myself to be troubled."

Ponderby reported the way open, and the lady disappeared silently along
the passage. Stranleigh betook himself to Room 4390, a