"I did not write that letter," she said quietly. "Steel the detective sent it, so as to bring you here. He wishes to resume the conversation you left unfinished at Bournemouth." "It's a trap!" cried Dane violently, and swung round to the door. But there was no chance of escape in that direction. He opened it to find Steel standing without. The detective stepped into the room and locked the door. "Now," he said, "we can have some conversation. Princess, I apologize for having used your name unauthorized, but it was the only way to bring this young man into my net." "Into a net!" said Dane, letting fall his soft hat. "You intend to have me arrested!" His hand went round to the back of his waist. In a moment Steel had flung himself forward, and after a short struggle disarmed him. The knife that the detective had secured was an ugly-looking weapon. "You are more Italian than the Italians," he said, slipping the knife into his pocket; "but you are not a gentleman to frighten the lady." "I am not frightened," said Olga promptly; "but I am very tired. I shall retire and leave you two gentlemen to deal with Mark." Dane sprang forward and caught her dress. He looked terrified. "Do not leave me," he entreated. "You know that I love you, and that for your sake I have betrayed a man who has done much for me. You promised to help me." "I shall do so," she answered, returning to her seat. "I shall see that you are not arrested, and----" "Pardon me, Princess, it may be necessary to----" "Mr. Steel, this man shall not be arrested," she said, stamping her foot. "If I am," cried Dane resolutely, "I shall say nothing. Only to save myself will I speak." Ware addressed a few hurried words to the detective, who nodded reluctantly. It was Giles who spoke. "I promise that you shall not be put in gaol, Dane," he said, "but you must tell the truth." "If I do so I am in danger of my life." "Then it is not gratitude that keeps you silent?" "Gratitude!" said Dane, flinging back his head, "what have I to be grateful for? Mr. Franklin----" "You mean Denham," interposed Olga quickly. "Denham!" echoed Steel, "that is the father of the governess." "No," said Giles, "Anne's father is dead. This man Denham pretended to play the part, and she has only lately been undeceived. Also, Mr. Steel, you must know that there is no Walter Franklin. The man at the Priory is the scoundrel you know as Wilson, the head of the Scarlet Cross Society and the murderer of Miss Kent." "Not that last," interposed Dane, while Steel dropped into a seat transfixed with astonishment. "Denham did not kill her. He does not know who did. He told me so." "He would tell you anything to save himself," said Olga.