But the mask was plucked away, and, fumbling in his pocket, Stafford produced his electric lamp and flashed it on the face of his prisoner. Then, with a cry of amazement, he stepped back--for he had looked upon the face of Maisie White! For a moment there was silence, neither speaking. Then Stafford found his voice. "Maisie!" he said in bewilderment, "Maisie! You--Jack o' Judgment?" She did not answer. "Phew!" whistled Stafford. Then sitting on a trunk, he laughed. "It is Maisie, of all people in the world. And I suspected it, too!" The girl had covered her face with her hands and was crying softly, and he moved towards her and put his arm about her shoulder. "Darling, it is nothing very terrible. Please don't go on like that." "Oh, you don't understand, you don't understand!" she wailed. "I wanted to catch Silva. I guessed that he was coming north on one of his blackmailing trips, and I followed him." "Did you come up by the same train?" He felt her nod. "So did I," said Stafford with a little grin. "I followed him to the bazaar," she said, "and then I watched him from a little eating-house on the opposite side of the road. Do you know, I wondered whether you were here too, and I looked everywhere for you, but apparently there was nobody in sight when Pinto came out with Lady Sybil, only a soldier." "I was that soldier," said Stafford. "I discovered where Mr. Crotin lived and came up later," she went on. "Of course, I had no very clear idea of what I was going to do, and it was only by the greatest luck that I found the window of the library open. It was the only window that was open," she said with a little laugh. "It wasn't so much your luck as my forethought," smiled Stafford. "Now I want to tell you about Jack o' Judgment," she began, but he stopped her. "Let that explanation wait," he said; "the point is, that with your evidence and mine we have Pinto by the throat--what was that?" There was the sound of a shot. "Probably a poacher," said Stafford after a moment. "I can't imagine Pinto using a gun. Besides, I don't think he carries one. What did he throw at you?" "A knife," she said, and he felt her shiver; "it just missed me. But tell me, how have we got Pinto?" They had left the shrubbery and were walking towards the house. She stopped a little while to take off her long black cloak, and he saw that she was wearing a short-skirted dress beneath. "We must compel Crotin to prosecute," said Stafford. "With our evidence nothing can save Pinto, and probably he will drag in the colonel, too. Even your evidence isn't necessary," he said after a moment's thought, "and if it's possible I will keep you out of it." A woman's scream interrupted him. "There's trouble there," he said, and raced for the house. Somebody was standing on the terrace as he approached, and hailed him excitedly. "Is that you, Terence?" It was a servant's voice. "No," replied Stafford, "I am a police officer."