For upwards of an hour and a half Carne remained standing in the shadow of the opposite houses, watching the Jeffrey’s residence. The lights in the lower room had by this time disappeared and within ten minutes that on the first floor followed suit. Being convinced, in his own mind, that the inmates were safely settled for the night, he left the scene of his vigil, and, walking to the corner of the street, hailed a hansom and was driven home. On reaching No. 1, Belverton Street, he found a letter lying on the hall table addressed to Klimo. It was in a woman’s handwriting, and it did not take him long to guess that it was from Mrs. Jeffreys. He opened it and read as follows: "_Bellamer Street,_ "_Thursday Evening._ "DEAR MR. KLIMO, "I am sending this to you to tell you that my worst suspicions have been realized. The two men whose coming I so dreaded, have arrived, and have taken up their abode with us. For my father’s sake I dare not turn them out, and to-night I have heard from my husband to say that he will be home on Saturday next. What is to be done? If something does not happen soon, they will commence their dastardly business in England, and then God help us all. My only hope is in Him and you. "Yours ever gratefully, "EILEEN JEFFREYS." Carne folded up the letter with a grave face, and then let himself into Porchester House and went to bed to think out his plan of action. Next morning he was up betimes, and by the breakfast hour had made up his mind as to what he was going to do. He had also written and dispatched a note to the girl who was depending so much upon him. In it he told her to come and see him without fail that morning. His meal finished, he went to his dressing-room and attired himself in Klimo’s clothes, and shortly after ten o’clock entered the detective’s house. Half-an-hour later Mrs. Jeffreys was ushered into his presence. As he greeted her he noticed that she looked pale and wan. It was evident she had spent a sleepless night. "Sit down," he said, "and tell me what has happened since last I saw you." "The most terrible thing of all has happened," she answered. "As I told you in my note, the men have reached England, and are now living in our house. You can imagine what a shock their arrival was to me. I did not know what to do. For my father’s sake I could not refuse them admittance, and yet I knew that I had no right to take them in during my husband’s absence. Be that as it may, they are there now, and to-morrow night George returns. If he discovers their identity, and suspects their errand, he will hand them over to the police without a second thought, and then we shall be disgraced forever. Oh, Mr. Klimo, you promised to help me, can you not do so? Heaven knows how badly I need your aid."