Arriving there, I went to the house to make sure that Martha Wakeling was there, and then, taking care not to be seen, joined the professor in the garden, where we hid in a shrubbery to watch anyone who came from or went to the house. It was a long wait--indeed, Quarles was rather doubtful whether anything would happen that day--but in the afternoon Martha Wakeling came out and passed into the road. "We have got to follow her and not be seen," said Quarles. There was some difficulty in doing so, for she was evidently careful not to be followed. She went to the station, and by District Railway to Victoria, and to a house in the Buckingham Palace Road. "We must find out whom it is she comes to visit here, Wigan," said Quarles. "We will wait a few minutes, and then you must insure that we are shown up without being announced. I do not fancy we shall meet with any resistance." The woman who opened the door to us showed no desire for secrecy. The lady who had just come in did not live there, she explained. If I wanted to see her, would I send in my name? It was not until I told her that I was a detective that she led the way to the first floor, and we entered the room unannounced. In an armchair sat an elderly woman, and from a chair at her side Martha Wakeling rose quickly. Quarles had entered the room first, and she did not notice me in the doorway. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?" she asked. "It is a surprise to find you in London," I said, coming forward. "You! Yes, my sister is----" Quarles had crossed toward the woman in the arm-chair. "I am glad to see the journey has not hurt you, Mrs. Jardine," he said quietly. * * * * * It was a bow drawn at a venture, but Martha Wakeling's little cry of consternation was enough to prove that Quarles was right. * * * * * The arrest of Mrs. Jardine for the murder of her companion created a sensation, and I am doubtful whether the plea of insanity which saved her from the gallows and sent her to a criminal lunatic asylum was altogether justified. The method in her madness was so extraordinary that the result of the trial would have been different, I fancy, had not Martha Wakeling's courage and care of her mistress aroused everybody's sympathy. Martha Wakeling knew little of her mistress's past, but she had always known that she was not such an invalid as she pretended to be. If she chose to live that kind of life, it was nobody's business but her own, and the servant never suspected that she was afraid of being seen by some of her former associates.