t, I expect, unless they can prove that Wrent
murdered Clear; then they will hang him. But now that Ferruci is dead, I
fancy Rhoda is the only witness who can prove Wrent's guilt. That is why
she ran away. I don't wonder she was afraid to stay. But I feel quite
worn out with all this, Diana. Please give me a biscuit and a glass of
port; I have had nothing all day."

With a sigh, Diana touched the bell, and when the waiter made his
appearance gave the order. She felt low-spirited and nervous, in spite
of the discovery that her father was alive and well; and indeed the
extraordinary events of the last few days were sufficient to upset the
strongest mind.

Lucian was leaning back in his chair with closed eyes, for his head was
aching with the excitement of the morning. Suddenly he opened them and
jumped up. At the same time Diana threw open the door with an
exclamation, and both of them heard the thin, high voice of a woman, who
apparently was coming up the stairs.

"Never mind my name," said the voice, "I'll tell it to Miss Vrain
myself. Take me to her at once."

"Lydia!" called Lucian, "and here? Great heavens! Why does she come
here?"

Diana said nothing, but compressed her lips as Lydia, followed by the
waiter with the biscuits and wine, came into the room. She was plainly
and neatly dressed, and wore a heavy veil, but seemed greatly excited.
She did not say a word, nor did Diana, until the waiter left the room
and closed the door. Then she threw up her veil, revealing a haggard
face and red eyes, swollen with weeping, and filled with an expression
of terror.

"Sakes alive! isn't this awful?" she wailed, making a clutch at Miss
Vrain's arm. "You've done it, this time, Diana. Ferruci's dead, and your
father alive, and I'm not a widow, and my father away I don't know
where! I was told that the police were after me, so I'm clearing out."

"Clearing out, Mrs. Vrain?" repeated Diana, stiffly.

"I should think so!" sobbed Lydia. "I don't want to stay and be put in
gaol, though what I've done to be put in gaol for, I don't know."

"What?" cried Lucian indignantly. "You don't know--when this abominable
conspiracy is----"

"I know nothing of the conspiracy," interrupted Lydia.

"Did you not get Ferruci to put your husband into an asylum?"

"I? I did nothing of the sort. I thought my husband was dead and buried
until Ferruci told me the truth, and then I held my tongue until I could
think of what to do. After Erco