carrying
a travelling coat of black, lined with fur--one I gave her in Russia."

"Her luggage?" asked the official.

"She had a suit-case: a medium-sized one."

"Large enough, I presume, to conceal the jewel-box your friend has told
me about just now?"

"Oh, yes--certainly!"

The official put his papers back in the drawer and turned to his visitors
with a business-like look which finally settled itself on Celia's face.

"You must be prepared to hear some serious news," he said. "I mean about
this woman. I have no doubt from what you have just told me that I know
where she is."

"Where?" demanded Celia excitedly. "You know? Where, then?"

"Lying in the mortuary at Paddington," answered the official quietly.

In spite of Celia's strong nerves she half rose in her seat--only to drop
back with a sharp exclamation.

"Dead! Probably murdered. And I should say," continued the official,
with a glance at the two men, "murdered in the same way as the gentleman
you have told me of was murdered at Hull--by some subtle, strange, and
secret poison."

No one spoke for a minute or two. When the silence was broken it was by
Allerdyke.

"I should like to know about this," he said in a hard, keen voice. "I'm
getting about sick of delay in this affair of my cousin's, and if this
murder of the young woman is all of a piece with his, why, then, the
sooner we all get to work the better. I'm not going to spare time,
labour, nor expense in running that lot down, d'you understand? Money's
naught to me--I'm willing--"

"We are already at work, Mr. Allerdyke," said the official, interrupting
him quietly. "We've been at work in the affair of the young woman for
twenty-four hours, and although you didn't know of it, we've heard of the
affair of your cousin at Hull, and the two cases are so similar that when
you came in I was wondering if there was any connection between them.
Now, as regards the young woman. You may or may not be aware that in
Eastbourne Terrace, Paddington, a street of houses which runs alongside
the departure platform of the Great Western Railway, there are a number
of small private hotels, which are largely used by railway passengers. To
one of these hotels, about nine o'clock on the evening of May 13th (just
about twenty-four hours after you, Miss Lennard, landed at Hull), there
came a man and a woman, who represented themselves as brother and sister,
and took two rooms for the night. The woman answers the descri