you to decide a--what do you
say?--bet?"

"A bet!" cried the little doctor in a deep bass voice, but with some
indignation. "Do I understand, Count, that you have brought me all the
way from my place in Hampstead to decide a bet?"

"Ah, but sir, it is a bet most important," said Ferruci, with a smile.
"This Mr. Denzil declares that he saw me in Pim--Pim--what?"

"In Pimlico," said Lucian, seeing that Ferruci could not pronounce the
word. "I say that the Count was in Pimlico on Christmas Eve."

"You are wrong, sir," said Jorce, with a wave of his skinny hand. "My
friend, Count Ferruci, was in my house at Hampstead on that evening."

"Was he?" remarked Lucian, astonished at this confident assertion. "And
at what time did he leave?"

"He did not leave till next morning. My friend the Count remained under
my roof all night, and left at twelve o'clock on Christmas morning."

"So you see," said Ferruci airily to Lucian, "that I could not have done
what you think, as that was done--by what you said--between eleven and
twelve on that night."

"Was the Count with you at ten o'clock on that evening?" asked Denzil.

"Certainly he was; so you have lost your bet, Mr. Denzil. Sorry to bring
you such bad fortune, but truth is truth, you know."

"Would you repeat this statement, if I wished?"

"Why not? Call on me at any time. 'The Haven, Hampstead'; that will
always find me."

"Ah, but I do not think it will be necessary for Mr. Denzil to call on
you, sir," interposed the Count rapidly. "You can always come to me.
Well, Mr. Denzil, are you satisfied?"

"I am," replied Lucian. "I have lost my bet, Count, and I apologise.
Good-day, Dr. Jorce, and thank you. Count Ferruci, I wish you good-bye."

"Not even _au revoir_?" said Ferruci mockingly.

"That depends upon the future," replied Lucian coolly, and forthwith
went away in low spirits at the downfall of his hopes. Far from
revealing the mystery of Vrain's death, his late attempts to solve it
had resulted in utter failure. Lydia had cleared herself; Ferruci had
proved himself innocent; and Lucian could not make up his mind what was
now to be done.

In this dilemma he sought out Diana, as, knowing from experience that
where a man's logic ends a woman's instinct begins, he thought she might
suggest some way out of the difficulty. On arriving at the Royal John
Hotel he found that Diana was waiting for him with great impatience; and
hardly giving herself time to greet him,