in this country he has never been
heard of. He has disappeared. I am here to find him. Perhaps," she
added, leaning a little over towards Ray, and in a slightly altered
tone, "perhaps you can help me?"

Again it seemed to me that Ray was troubled by a certain speechlessness.
When at last he found words, they and his tone were alike harsh, almost
violent.

"Do you think," he said, "that I would stretch out the little finger of
my hand to help you or him? You know very well that I would not. The
pair of you, in my opinion, were long since outside the pale of
consideration from any living being. If he is lost, so much the better.
If he is dead, so much the better still."

"It is because I know how you feel towards him," she said, slowly,
"that I wondered--yes, I wondered!"

"Well?"

"Whether you could not, if you chose, solve for me the mystery of his
disappearance."

There was as much as a dozen seconds or so of tense silence between
them. She never once flinched. The cold question of her eyes seemed to
burn its way into the man's composure. A fierce exclamation broke from
his lips.

"If he were dead," he said, "and if it were my hand which had removed
him, I should count it amongst the best actions of my life."

She looked at him curiously--as one might regard a wild beast.

"You can speak like this before his son?"

"I veil my words at no time and for no man," he answered. "The truth is
always best."

Then the door opened, and Blenavon entered. His arm and head were
bandaged, and he walked with a limp. He was deathly pale, and
apparently very nervous. He attempted a casual greeting with Ray, but
it was a poor pretence. Ray, for his part, had evidently no mind to
beat about the bush.

"Lord Blenavon," he said, "this house is no fit place for your father's
son. I have warned you before, but the time for advice is past. Your
hostess here is a creature of the French police, and her business here
is to suborn you and others whom she can buy or cajole into a
treasonable breach of confidence. It is very possible that you know all
this, and more. But I appeal to you as an Englishman and the
representative of a great English family. Are you willing to leave at
once with us and to depart altogether from this part of the country, or
will you face the consequences?"

Blenavon was a coward. He shook and stammered. He was not even master
of his voice.

"I do not understand you," he faltered. "You have no right to