"We are going to be married at once. We are going to be married at Havre in France. Ras says that because I am a widow and an Albanian it would be an awful trouble for me to get married in England, and I would have to give up half my money to Government. But in France, owing to different laws, I can get married without any fuss at all. I don't understand it, but Ras has consulted a lawyer, so it's all right. I suppose when I am married you won't be my trustee any more. So, dear Jaff Chayne, I must say good-bye and thank you for all your great kindness to me. I am sorry you and Barbara and Hilary don't like Ras, which his real name really is Erasmus, but you will when you know him better. "Yours affectionately, "LIOSHA PRESCOTT." The amazing epistle took my breath away. "Of all the infernal scoundrels!" I cried. "There's going to be trouble," said Jaffery, and his look signified that it was he who intended to cause it. "But why Havre of all places in the world?" said I. "I suppose it's the only one he knows," replied Jaffery. "He must have once gone to Paris by that route. It's the cheapest." I glanced through the letter again, and I felt a warm gush of pity for our poor deluded Liosha. "We must get her out of this." "Going to," said Jaffery. "Let us have in Barbara at once." I opened the communicating door and threw the letter into the room where she was dressing. After a moment or two she appeared in cap and peignoir, and the three of us in dressing-gowns, I with lather crinkling over one-half of my face, held first an indignation meeting, and then a council of war. "I never dreamed the brute would do this," said Jaffery. "He couldn't offer her marriage in the ordinary way without committing bigamy, and I know she wouldn't consent to any other arrangement; so he has invented this poisonous plot to get her out of England." "And probably go through some fool form of ceremony," said Barbara. "But how can she be such a thundering idiot as to swallow it?" asked Jaffery.