ncealed in Lydenberg's
watch; knew that the recipient was sitting close by him, separated only
from him by a wall and a door; knew that between her and Lydenberg, or
those who had been in touch with Lydenberg, there must be some strange,
secret, and sinister connection. From Mrs. Marlow to Lydenberg that
photograph had somehow passed, and, as Chettle had well said, the entire
problem of the murders and thefts was mixed up in its transference. All
that was certain--what seemed certain, too, was that Fullaway knew
nothing of these things, and was as innocent as he himself. And for the
fraction of a second he was half-minded to tell all he knew to Fullaway
there and then--and it was only by a still stronger effort of will that
he restrained his tongue, determined to keep a stricter silence than
ever, and replied to the American in an offhand, casual tone.

"News?" he said, with a half-laugh. "Nay, not that I know of. They take
their time, those detective chaps. You heard aught?"

"Nothing particular," answered Fullaway. "Except that the Princess was in
here this morning, and that Miss Lennard came at the same time. But
neither of them had anything of importance to tell. The Princess has been
ransacking her memory all about her affairs with your cousin; she's more
certain than ever now that nobody in Russia but he and she knew anything
about the jewel deal. They were always in strict privacy when they
discussed the matter; no one was present when she gave him the jewels;
she never mentioned the affair to a soul, and she's confident from what
she knew of him, that he wouldn't. So she's more convinced than ever that
the news got out from this side."

"And Miss Lennard--what did she want?" asked Allerdyke.

"Oh! she's found the various references--two or three of 'em--that she
had with the French maid," replied Fullaway. "I looked at them--there's
nothing in them but what you'd expect to find. Two of the writers are
well-known society women, the third was a French marquise. I don't think
anything's to be got out of them, but, anyway, I sent her off to Scotland
Yard with them--it's their work that. Fine photos there, Allerdyke," he
continued, turning over the leaves of the album. "Some of your places in
Bradford, eh."

Allerdyke, who was particularly anxious that he should not seem to have
had an ulterior object in bringing the album up to Fullaway's office
hailed this question with relief. He began to point out and explain