His English was remarkably distinct, though of course the foreign accent was very marked. He had been a billiard-marker in the Strand, but had to quit London in some haste, having become too well-known in the vicinity of 'Lester Square.' Hence it was that he knew English well, and London too, in all its worst, foreign, and most disreputable phases. He was a billiard-marker and gambler still, and ready to do any rascality for which he was sufficiently paid. His wife--the Frau Wyburg--had once been a dancer in the Schweitzer Pavilion and Ambiguity Circus, during her less disreputable days, and was no more above taking a bribe than himself. 'Sir Redmond,' said he, pocketing the gold by which his services were to be secured, 'I have seen some pretty faces in my time, but the fraulein is downright beautiful!' he added, as he thought with genuine admiration of the clear, creamy skin which so often accompanies such hair and dark-blue eyes as those of Ellinor. 'This young lady is my wife,' said Sleath, a little emphatically; 'and I wish you and your worthy frau to take all requisite care of her for me--for a time.' Herr Wyburg closed one eye, and, with intense cunning in the other, surveyed the speaker. 'Your wife?' said he. 'Yes.' 'She has no wedding-ring.' 'If it is not on her finger, it ought to be.' 'And you wish us to take care of her--that she does not escape, you mean?' 'Precisely.' 'Why?' 'Need _you_ ask me why?' said Sleath, with irritation. 'She is ill--strange,' he added, putting a finger to his forehead. 'Poor girl--you understand?' Herr Wyburg winked his cunning eye again. He _did_ understand, and shrewdly disbelieved that the girl was Sleath's wife; yet her bearing, her fear, repugnance, and bodily weakness all puzzled him, and, like his wife, he knew not what to think, save that Sleath's golden sovereigns were very acceptable, and the latter now prepared to depart--his droski was still at the door--and he bade Frau Wyburg 'good-night,' after she had recommended him not to insist on again seeing Ellinor, who had retired to her room. 'Ah,' said the frau, with one of her detestable but would-be suave smiles, 'the Fraulein has got what the French call a _migrain_--perhaps it is periodical--any way the kindness and love of mein Herr,' she added, curtseying, 'will soon make it pass away.' Ellinor felt intense relief when Sir Redmond drove away, and strove to hope that he had wearied or repented of his persecution, and would really discover the address of Mrs. Deroubigne; but how was she to travel without money, and she had scarcely a trinket about her!