ess's willingness to receive us. As she busied
herself poking the fire and opening wider the thick curtains, Ray asked
her another question.

"Do you know if Lord Blenavon is here?"

"Yes, sir," the girl answered promptly. "He was brought in last night
rather badly hurt, but he is much better this morning. I will let Mrs.
Smith-Lessing know that you are here, sir."

She hurried out, with the rustle of stiff starch and the quick
light-footedness of the well-trained servant. Ray and I exchanged
glances.

"After all, this is not such a home of mystery as we expected," I
remarked.

"Apparently not," he answered. "The little woman is playing a bold
game."

Then Mrs. Smith-Lessing came in.

CHAPTER XXIV

LORD BLENAVON'S SURRENDER

She came in very quietly, a little pale and wan in this cold evening
light. She held out her hand to me with a subdued but charming smile of
welcome.

"I am so glad that you have come to see me," she said softly. "You can
help me, too, about this unfortunate young man who has been thrown upon
my hands. I--"

Then she saw Ray, and the words seemed to die away upon her lips. I had
to steel my heart against her to shut out the pity which I could
scarcely help feeling. She was white to the lips. She stood as one
turned to stone, with her distended eyes fixed upon him. It was like a
trapped bird, watching its impending fate. She faltered a little on her
feet, and--I could not help it--I hurried to her side with a chair. As
she sank into it she thanked me with a very plaintive smile.

"Thank you," she said, simply. "I am not very strong, and I did not
know that man was with you."

Ray broke in. His voice sounded harsh, his manner, I thought, was
unnecessarily brutal.

"I can understand," he said, "that you find my presence a little
unwelcome. I need scarcely say that this is not a visit of courtesy.
You know very well that willingly I would never spend a moment under the
same roof as you. I am here to speak a few plain words, to which you
will do well to listen."

She raised her eyes to his. Her courage seemed to be returning at the
note of battle in his tone. Her small, well-shaped head was thrown
back. The hands which grasped the sides of her chair ceased to tremble.

"Go on," she said.

"We will not play at cheap diplomacy," he said, sneeringly. "I know you
by a dozen names, which you alter and adopt to suit the occasion. You
are a creature of the French police, one of thos