Chick jumped for the morning paper and quickly looked at the shipping news. “No,” he said, “no steamer left port to-day after twelve o’clock.” “What time does the next steamer go out?” asked Nick. “Every one that leaves to-morrow,” replied Chick, “must sail before nine in the morning.” “You have made a good suggestion,” said Nick. “I wish, Patsy, you would take care of that end of it, and see that every steamer is properly watched to-morrow morning.” Patsy smiled with pleasure. The chief had acknowledged that he had made the first practical suggestion in the work. “It comes down to this,” said Nick, “we must set out upon the theory that something wrong, some crime, some misfortune, or some complication, exists in the life of Ellison that is unknown to his best friends.” “Chief,” said Ida, “I believe that that is to be found not here in this country, but in England.” “Since he has lived so good a life here,” said Nick, “it would seem to be so.” The famous detective stood still a moment and said: “I must appeal to my friend, Inspector Mostyn, of Scotland Yard, again. Chick, write a cable to Mostyn and ask him to send all information that is queer about Ellison. Tell Mostyn what family he belongs to.” He turned to Ida and said: “I don’t suppose there is a man in England who knows as much about the noble families and their concealed histories as Mostyn does.” “If you are to have a starting place at all,” said Ida, “I think you will find it in what Mostyn tells you, and----” Ida hesitated a moment, and Nick asked: “And what?” Ida laughed in a somewhat doubtful manner and replied: “And I am afraid that you will find that it is something in which one of my sex is involved. I have noticed that nearly all the trouble which a sprig of the nobility gets into, is because of some woman.” There was a tap at the door. Patsy opened it and found there a servant, who passed in a letter, with the remark that it had just been received. It was addressed to Nick. Handing it to Nick, the famous detective opened it and said: “It is the same handwriting.” “The same as what?” asked Chick. “The same writing as the note of warning of this morning.” Reading it, he passed it to Chick, saying: “Read it aloud.” Chick read: “‘A famous judge, having a man brought before him and listening to the charge made against him, asked: “Who is the woman?” If you are wise, you will take this as a pointer for the beginning of your new case.’” The four detectives looked at each other, and then Nick took from his pocket the letter of warning of the morning, and together they compared the handwriting of the two letters. “It is the same,” said Nick, positively. “It was written by the same man,” said Chick. “It is not the writing of a man, but of a woman,” said Ida. Nick caught the two letters, and, carrying them to the window, where the light was strong upon them, carefully examined them.