'Well, we were stationed at Gibraltar when the Major was married. I was his orderly at the time, and he took me with him to a town called Toledo, where the marriage took place. I saw the lady--a French lady she was--only once before she was Mrs Stuart; she and the Major were on horseback, and a fine-looking pair they were; and I saw her twice after they came back to Toledo from their honeymoon. She was then wearing the locket I saw last night. It was one of the marriage presents he gave her, and I remember seeing it on his dressing-room table in the hotel, and thinking he was lucky to be able to buy such a nice gift. I was courting at that time--not Sally; another girl who died--and I--well, I would have given a whole year's pay to be able to buy my girl one like it. That's how I remember it so well. The Major stayed in Toledo for about a week after his honeymoon trip, and then he went to headquarters, taking me with him of course; but Mrs Stuart remained at Toledo. She never came down to Gib. that I know of, but the Major went back once or twice. Then about a year after their marriage she died. The Major got the sad news at mess, and left that night, and I followed next day with his luggage. We returned the day after the funeral, and--and that's all I know, I think.' Then he picked up his emery-cloth and resumed his polishing, as if the story he had told was of ordinary import. 'Joe,' I said after a pause, 'what you have told me is most valuable information, and I thank you very much indeed. Were you present at the marriage ceremony?' 'Yes, sir, as a spectator, of course. I had nothing particular to do, and was in a strange town, and I was anxious to see what a foreign marriage was like.' 'Naturally! Then the marriage was in a church in Toledo?' 'Yes, sir; but I don't remember the name of the church.' 'Ah, Joe, that's a pity, now. Could you describe it to me? I know Toledo, and might be able to refresh your memory.' 'Well, sir, it was a very old-looking place, built of brick, and one part was newer-looking than the other. There's a big bridge at the entrance to the town----' 'Yes, Joe, the Bridge of Alcantara.' 'That's the name, sir. Well, I think I could go from the bridge right up to the church even yet. If I had a piece of paper and a pencil I could show you.' I readily supplied him with pencil and paper, and after a little cogitation and a good deal of muttering, 'Forward, right turn, left wheel, steady now, forward,' he handed me the diagram of what he judged was the route. As it wasn't drawn to a scale, and no streets were noted, it was quite unintelligible to me; but it proved Joe had it in his mind's eye, and so far this was quite satisfactory. 'Thank you, Joe,' I said. 'May I keep this?' He nodded, and I put it in my pocket. 'Now, just two questions more. Was Mrs Stuart buried in Toledo?' 'No, sir. She lies in a cemetery a few miles out of Toledo.' 'You don't remember the name of the place?'