Who, from being ungovernable, became unmanageable; from being reckless, became a wild thing; who developed a terrible temper; who did things that no well-bred girl should have done; who insisted upon having her own way in everything, and who cared not a whit for the opinions or the criticisms of others—and who came to the ultimate consequence of such an ungoverned, non-regulated life, and finally disappeared from her home. Nan’s story told how this girl, months afterward, was found in London, by relatives of the family, in a hospital, where she was dying. Soon after she died, and was taken to the house of her ancestors and buried in the family plot. That was practically all of the sad story that need be developed here, and Nick Carter listened to it without comment. There was no earthly reason why he should suppose that the Juno in whom he was interested at that moment was the girl who had been called Siren in her youth. Yet, he had that intuitive feeling that they were the same—and without a reason. “Nan,” he said, at the conclusion of the tale, “I have asked you to assist me in this matter. I had intended to take you to Virginia with me, believing that there might be a something about the appearance of this Juno to associate her with the past of Jimmy Duryea. But I have thought better of taking you down there. I will go to Virginia alone.” “Oh, thank you. I do not care to go.” “But,” he continued, with a smile, “I shall ask you to do a more difficult thing; and unless you can and will do it for me, I shall be compelled to do it for myself.” “What is it?” she asked, somewhat startled by his manner. “Wait a moment. Have you ever been back among those scenes of your childhood since you left them to go to South Africa?” “No,” she replied. “Well, I want you to go back there and——” “Oh, no, no, no!” “Either you must go there, or I shall.” “What is it that you would have me do there?” “You need not, necessarily, go to the old home. Your search will be in London, rather than in that neighborhood. But I want you to search out the career of that girl from the time she left home until it was reported that she had died in a London hospital.” “Must I do that, Mr. Carter?” “Unless you prefer to leave it for me to do. But you are in possession of facts which will aid you materially in such a search, and you can make it more quickly, because you will know exactly where to go in doing it. I would lose valuable time in getting those facts together, unless you related them to me, and you are reluctant to do that. So go there and make the search in your own way. I do not require of you all the names and particulars; all I wish to know is the result.” “And you? What will you be doing in the meantime?”