He drew near the house. Lights still shone in every window. Something caused him to feel very queerly—he could not say what it was. Did Joe know all? Perhaps not—he might still be in a fog and wondering why all the plans had miscarried. Eric did not hesitate. He immediately ran up the steps. Then he noticed that the parlor was deserted—the good people could not have gone, for he could hear the laughter and buzz of voices—ah! they were doubtless in the diningroom below. He rang the bell. A colored man answered it. “1 wish to see Mr. Leslie on important business. Take my card to him.” The man knew his business, closed the door and went away with the card. One, two minutes passed. Then Eric heard footsteps within. The door opened. There could be no mistaking that figure—it was Joe who stood there. Eric’s eyes sought his face instantly—he saw a look of mute pain there which told him better than words that Joe did not yet know the truth. CHAPTER XXIV CONCLUSION At sight of his friend Joe held out his hand warmly. “Eric, old man, I have wondered where you have been. Everything has gone wrong. She is still here, and yet the hour is long past—that villain must have backed out.” “No, he carried out his plans to the letter; he had his carriage waiting, ran off with a lady at ten o’clock, at eleven was married to her in a cottage beyond the Harlem, and is now a Benedict as well as yourself, Joe—but it was not your wife he was after.” “Not my wife?” slowly, as though the wonderful news almost paralyzed his brain—“not Lillian he sought?” “Joe, it was all a terrible, a cruel mistake which fortune put upon you.” “Good heavens! do you mean it?” “Lillian, your sweet wife, is as innocent as you ever believed her in your most charitable moods. That I will swear to—you will learn all before this night is over, and I believe the mystery of the locked trunk will be revealed. Just now I am famished for a bite to eat and a cup of the coffee I get a scent of. Suppose you invite me in—I am not in evening dress, but a few minutes in your room will arrange my toilet and make me presentable. I want to see this thing out—to rejoice with you, old boy, over the wife you thought you had lost but who is found again. Besides, you know, I want to meet Marian, and I know she is here.” What could Joe do? He dragged his friend upstairs and himself assisted to brush him into presentable shape. Ten minutes were consumed thus, and then Eric was ready to go down. All this while Joe had plied him with questions and the detective told a good deal of what had happened to him. There were some things of which he would not speak, however, and hence Joe found himself in a state bordering on bewilderment when he finally went downstairs. By this time the guests had finished supper and were again flocking into the parlors. There were between twenty-five and thirty in all. Eric was introduced all around.