have had
inquiries made in London lately, and I find that he was thick with that
Indian prince whose name was coupled with Violet's in the society rags.
I know Bhagwan Singh for an arrogant and pitiless libertine, Enid. That
steamer is bound for India."

The old man and the girl stared at each other, comprehending the tragedy
in all its naked horror.

"How long ago was it that you heard Miss Maynard passing through the
grounds of The Hut on her way to the beach?" Mr. Mallory asked, breaking
the strained silence.

"It must have been more than half an hour. I got out through the roof of
the grotto almost immediately afterwards; then I went home, and, finding
you out, ran down to the club as hard as I could," Enid replied. Then,
glancing up at her father's stern, set face, she said abruptly----

"What time does the telephone exchange close?"

"Hours ago--at eight o'clock, and it's now nearly midnight," replied Mr.
Mallory, looking at her as if she had gone daft.

"But if we made it all right with the exchange people we could get the
wire, I suppose?"

"If you could persuade or bribe them--certainly," said Mr. Mallory, with
a touch of impatience. "But what good would it do? You cannot telephone
to any one who can prevent Miss Maynard from going on board a steamer
which, by your own showing, must have been reached by her long ago."

Enid linked her arm in her father's and began dragging him to the shop
where the exchange was worked. "Come along and see," she exclaimed
excitedly. "The worst of you clever people is that you never give any
one else credit for a gleam of intelligence."

A couple of minutes later they had rung the bell at the private door of
the shop, and were parleying with a sleepy individual at an upper
window, who was at last induced to come down and open to them.

CHAPTER XXVII

PURSUIT

Lieutenant Reginald Beauchamp had been dining at the officers' mess of
the Royal Naval Barracks at Devonport, and was making his way back to
the dockyard, where he expected to find his boat's crew ready to put him
aboard what Enid irreverently called his floating sardine-box. The
_Snipe_ was anchored in the Hamoaze, not far from the docks for the
convenience of victualling.

Reggie, being a youth of convivial but temperate habits had dined
wisely, to the extent of feeling at peace with all the world. The fine
digestive powers of eight-and-twenty had served to assimilate the
excellent fare provided b