At the inquest I identified the body, and Ivan related his brief story. Twice the inquiry was adjourned, and subsequently a verdict was returned that the Princess had been murdered by “some person or persons unknown.” The Prince was communicated with by telegraph, but he took no notice, and at the funeral Ivan and myself were the only mourners. The police could discover no clue to the assassin, and thus another was added to London’s long list of unfathomable mysteries. One day, about six weeks after the funeral, I received a hurried note from Ivan, asking me to meet him at half-past seven that evening under the railway bridge adjoining the Charing Cross Station of the Underground Railway. Thinking that he might have something of importance to tell me, I kept the appointment. The road which runs under the bridge is not too well lit, and the spot is rather quiet about that hour. Big Ben had just boomed the half-hour, when I felt a slight pressure on my arm, and heard my Christian name uttered. Turning quickly, I confronted a female figure enveloped in a travelling cloak, and wearing a soft felt hat and a veil through which the features were recognisable in the lamplight. It was the Princess Kochkaryòv! “Irene!” I cried, “is it really you?” “Yes. I am no apparition,” she replied, with a laugh. “But I must not be seen. Let us walk this way.” In a few moments we were strolling under the trees on the Embankment. “It was quite simple,” she said, in reply to my eager questions. “I always was a little inventative. You remember that on the night you told me of my doom you found me alone reading? Well, that night Nina was ill, and I had been attending her. I did not call a doctor, as I had no idea that she suffered from a weak heart. She died, poor girl, shortly before five o’clock on the afternoon you had promised to return. Then a thought occurred to me that, as her hair was the same colour as my own, I might pass off her body as mine. I took Ivan into my confidence, telling him of the attempt which would be made upon my life——” “You did not mention my name?” I asked anxiously. “Of course not. After I had dressed the body in one of my own wraps, we carried it to my room and placed it upon the couch. Nina was about my build, therefore I attired myself in her clothes, and taking the most valuable of my jewels, left at once for Paris. Meanwhile Ivan remained. From what he has told me it appears that he watched and saw a middle-aged man enter the flat by means of a latch-key. After searching several rooms he went into my bedroom. There the man saw a female form which he thought was myself, and stabbed it to the heart. All this occurred within half an hour of Nina’s death.” “And it was the mutilation of the face that prevented me from discovering that it was Nina,” I remarked. “Exactly. Yet no crime has been committed, and I have escaped.” “Wonderful!” I exclaimed, astounded at the curious combination of circumstances.