ish knife might yet rid her of the one obstacle that
still stood between her son and the inheritance of great wealth.

It was with a distinct annoyance, then, while leading this tranquil
but luxurious life, that her man-servant brought in a card one
afternoon, bearing the name of Hobson, and said, "The gentleman hopes
you will be able to see him at once."

"How did you find me out?" she asked, angrily, when her visitor--the
same Mr. Hobson we saw at Constantinople--was introduced.

"Ah! How do I find everything and everybody out? That's my affair--my
business, I may say."

"And what do you want?" went on Mrs. Wilders, in the same key.

"First of all, to condole with you on the loss of so many near
relatives. I missed you at Constantinople after Lord Lydstone's sad
and dreadful death."

Mrs. Wilders shuddered in spite of herself.

"You suffer remorse?" he said, mockingly.

She made a gesture of protest.

"Sorrow, I should say. Yet you benefited greatly."

"On the contrary, not at all. Another life still intervenes."

"Another! and you knew nothing of it! Impossible!"

"It is too true. I am as far as ever from the accomplishment of my
hopes."

"Who is this unknown interloper?"

"An English officer, at present serving in the Crimea. His name is
McKay: Stanislas McKay."

"The name is familiar; the Christian name is suggestive. Do you know
whether he is of Polish origin?"

"Yes, I have heard so. His father was once in the Russian army."

"It is the same, then. There can be no doubt of it. And you would like
to see him out of the way? I might help you, perhaps."

"How? I have my own agents at work."

"He is in the Crimea, you say?"

"Yes, or will be within a few weeks."

"If we could inveigle him into the Russian lines he would be shot or
hanged as a traitor. He is a Russian subject in arms against his
Czar."

"It would be difficult, I fear, to get him into Russian hands."

"Some stratagem might accomplish it. You have agents at work, you say,
in the Crimea?"

"They can go there."

"Put me in communication with them, and leave it all to me."

"You will place me under another onerous obligation, Hippolyte."

"No, thanks. I am about to ask a favour in return. You can help me, I
think."

"Yes? Command me."

"You have many acquaintances in London; your late husband's friends
were military men. I want a little information at times."

Mrs. Wilders looked at him curiously.

"Why don't you ca