Kiss did not appear until half past eight, and when he entered the room Fred divined from the distress depicted in his face that something had gone wrong. His first words were: "They have escaped us, Mr. Cornwall." "Escaped you!" cried Fred, in great excitement. "Yes. It is an unfortunate fact. I could beat my head against the wall. Whether their suspicions were aroused, or whether they had previously decided upon some course of action of which we were in ignorance, I cannot say; but they have disappeared, and so mysteriously that we don't know what to make of it." "You, or one of you, saw them go, surely?" "No, sir, we did not; and that is the strangest part of it. We all thought they were in their rooms; nothing had been heard of them for three or four hours, and we supposed they were asleep. At last Mrs. Linton came down from her cupboard, and said she did not know what to think of it, but it really seemed to her as if their rooms must be empty. Upon this the landlady said she would go up and ask them whether they required anything, and she did so; a minute afterward she called to us to come up, and we went. Their rooms _were_ empty; the fiends had disappeared; and that they were gone for good was proved by their having taken certain things with them which, if they had only gone on an errand, they need not have touched." "Perhaps they will come back," said Fred. "Not they, sir," said Kiss, shaking his head. "They are a cunning pair, and they know what they are about. They have thrown us off the scent, Mr. Cornwall; there's no doubt in my mind about that." Fred considered a moment. "You have the address of the woman they were to meet?" "Yes, Mr. Cornwall." "Give it to me. I will rattle there in a cab, and if I cannot learn anything about her, I will join you at No. 12." "You will find it difficult to obtain any information of her, sir." "Money will accomplish anything. I shall find out what I want to know." Promising the cabman double fare if he drove at his fastest pace, Fred, in less than half an hour, arrived at the woman's lodgings. The landlady, as Kiss had foreseen, was disinclined to speak of her lodger, but a tip of half a sovereign and the promise of another loosened her tongue. "I don't see, after all," said the landlady, "why I shouldn't oblige you. She has left the rooms, and is not coming back." Then she related how the woman had gone away in an open manner, saying that she was about to leave England, and did not intend to return. She was not going abroad alone; some friends were going with her. That was all. "Can you tell me her name?" asked Fred. The landlady replied that she did not know it.