st, but from the questions you have been
asking it may be useful to you."

Mr. Sabin took the half-sheet of note-paper in silence. It was the
ordinary stationery of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the following
words were written upon it in a faint delicate handwriting, but in
yellow pencil:--

"Sept. 10th.
"To LUCILLE, Duchesse de SOUSPENNIER.--
"You will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main corridor
at four o'clock this afternoon."

The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin's fingers. There was no signature,
but he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him. He
looked slowly up towards the cabman.

"I am much obliged to you," he said. "This is of interest to me."

He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had
left upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "You've given me plenty. The letter's of no
value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the peculiar colour
pencil it's written with. Kinder took my fancy, sir."

"The letter is of value," Mr. Sabin said. "It tells me much more than I
hoped to discover. It is our good fortune."

The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin
touched the bell.

"Duson, what time is it?"

"Nearly midnight, sir!"

"I will go to bed!"

"Very good, sir!"

"Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not
disturbed until ten o'clock to-morrow morning."

CHAPTER III

At precisely ten o'clock on the following morning Duson brought
chocolate, which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his
master's bedside. Upon the tray was a single letter. Mr. Sabin sat up in
bed and tore open the envelope. The following words were written upon
a sheet of the Holland House notepaper in the same peculiar coloured
crayon.

"The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one. Profit
by it. Go back to Lenox. You are only exposing yourself to danger and
the person you seek to discomfort. Wait there, and some one shall come
to you shortly who will explain what has happened, and the necessity for
it."

Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile. He sipped his chocolate
and lit a cigarette.

"Our friends, then," he said softly, "do not care about pursuit and
inquiries. It is ridiculous to suppose that their warning is given out
of any consideration to me. Duson!"

"Yes, sir!"

"My bath