villain's name, too, of course."

"Yes--Gualtier," said Lord Chetwynde.

"I put the case in the hands of the Marseilles police, and you know
that up to the time when we left nothing had been done. Nothing has
been done since of any consequence. On my way here I stopped at
Marseilles, and found that the police had been completely baffled,
and had found no trace whatever either of Gualtier or of the maid
Mathilde. When I arrived at Marseilles I found that the police there
had been on the look-out for that man for seven weeks, but in spite
of the most minute inquiry, and the most vigilant watchfulness, they
had seen no sign of any such person. The conclusion that I have come
to is that he never went to Naples--at least not after his crime.
Nor, on the other hand, is it likely that he remained in France. The
only thing that I can think of is that both he and the maid Mathilde
went back to England."

"There is Germany," said Lord Chetwynde, who had not lost a word, "or
the other states of Italy. Florence is a pleasant place to go to.
Above all, there is America--the common land of refuge to all who
have to fly from the Old World."

"Yes, all that is true--very true. It may be so; but I have an idea
that the man may still be in England, and I have some hope of getting
on his track now. But this is not the immediate purpose of my coming.
That was caused by a discovery of new features in this dark case,
which show a deliberate plan on the part of Gualtier and others to
destroy Miss Lorton so as to get her money."

"Have you found out any thing else? Has any fresh calamity fallen
upon that innocent head?" asked Lord Chetwynde, in breathless
anxiety. "At any rate, it can not be so bad as what she has already
suffered."

"In one sense it is not so bad, but in another sense it is worse."

"How?"

"Why, it is not so bad, for it only concerns the loss of money; but
then, again, it is far worse, for"--and Obed's voice dropped
low--"for it shows her that there is an accomplice of Gualtier's, who
has joined with him in this crime, and been a principal in it, and
this accomplice is--_her sister_!"

"Great God!" cried Lord Chetwynde, aghast. "Her sister?"

"Her sister," said Obed, who did not, as yet, think it necessary to
tell what Zillah had revealed to him in confidence about their not
being sisters.

Lord Chetwynde seemed overwhelmed.

Obed then began and detailed to him every circumstance of the affair
of the draft,