FLED.

Early on Monday morning, the police of the city
were invited to investigate a case of curious
disappearance. Mr. Douglas Romilly, an English
shoe manufacturer, who travelled out from England
on board the _Elletania_, arrived at the Waldorf
Hotel at four o'clock on Saturday afternoon and
was shown to the reservation made for him. Within
an hour he was enquired for by several callers,
who were shown to his room without result. The
apartment was found to be empty and nothing has
since been seen or heard of Mr. Romilly. The room
assigned to him, which could only have been
occupied for a few minutes, has been locked up and
the keys handed to the police. A considerable
amount of luggage is in their possession, and
certain documents of a somewhat curious character.
From cables received early this afternoon, it
would appear that the Douglas Romilly Shoe
Company, one of the oldest established firms in
England, is in financial difficulties.

Then there was a paragraph in a paper of later date:

NO NEWS OF DOUGLAS ROMILLY.

The police have been unable to discover any trace
of the missing Englishman. From further cables to
hand, it appears that he was in possession of a
considerable sum of money, which must have been on
his person at the time of disappearance, and it is
alleged that there was also a large amount, with
which he had intended to make purchases for his
business, standing to his credit at a New York
bank. Nothing has since been discovered, however,
amongst his belongings, of the slightest financial
value, nor does any bank in New York admit holding
a credit on behalf of the missing man.

"Perhaps it is time," Philip murmured, "that these were destroyed."

He tore the newspapers into pieces and threw them into his waste-basket.
On his writing-table were forty or fifty closely written pages of
manuscript. In his pocketbook were sixteen hundred dollars, and a
document indicating a credit for a very much larger amount at the United
Bank of New York, in favor of Merton Ware and another. The remainder
of his belongings were negligible. He stood at the window and looked out
across the city, the city into whose labyrinths he was so eager to
penetrate--the undiscovered country. By day and night its voices were in
his ears, the rattle and roar of the overhead railway, the clanging of
the street cars, the heavy traffic, the fainter but never cea