"I wish you'd call me Cobalt, miss," said the man with a smile. "I like to keep up the name, otherwise I'm inclined to give myself away." "Have you found out anything?" "Very little, miss," said the detective. "There's nothing to find in the apartment itself." "You secured the situation as valet?" He nodded. "Thanks to the recommendations you got me, miss, there was no difficulty at all. Silva wanted a servant and accepted the testimonials without question." "And you've discovered nothing?" she said in a disappointed tone. "Not in Mr. Silva's room. The only thing I found out was that he's going to Yorkshire to-morrow." "For long?" she asked. "For some considerable time," said the detective. "At least, I guess so, because he has packed half a dozen suits, top hats and all sorts of things which I should imagine he wouldn't take away unless he intended making a long stay." "Have you any idea of the place he's going to?" "I shall discover that to-morrow, miss," said Cobalt. "I thought I'd tell you as much as I know." "And you have not been into the colonel's flat?" The man shook his head. "It is guarded inside and out, miss, now. He has not only his butler, who is a tough customer, to look after him, but he has Snakit, the man you employed, I understand." "That's the gentleman," said the girl with a little smile. "Very good, Cobalt--you'll 'phone me if you make any other discoveries." She was sitting at her solitary breakfast the next morning when the telephone bell rang. It was from a call office, and presently she heard Cobalt's voice. "Just a word, miss. He leaves by the ten-twenty-five train for Huddersfield," said the voice, "and the person he is going to see is Lady Sybil somebody, and there's money in it." "How do you know?" she asked quickly. "I heard him speaking to the colonel on the landing and I heard the words: 'He'll pay.'" She thought a moment. "Ten-twenty-five," she repeated; "thank you very much, Mr. Cobalt." She hung up the receiver and sat for a moment in thought, then passed quickly to her bedroom and began to dress. CHAPTER XXV A PATRON OF CHARITY Lady Sybil Crotin was not a popular woman. She was conscious that she had married beneath her--more conscious lately that there had been no necessity to make the marriage, and she had grown a little soured. She could never mix with the homely wives of local millionaires; she professed a horror of the vulgarities with which she was surrounded, hated and loathed her lord and master's flamboyant home, which she described as something between a feudal castle and a picture-palace; and openly despised her husband's friends and their feminine relatives. She made a point of spending at least six months of the year away from Yorkshire, and came back with protest at her lot written visibly upon her face.