“The newspapers?” fairly shrieked James Mallory. “That would settle us. I believe if I saw a reporter around this hotel, I would fling him out of the window into the sea. And, of course, we must not let our guests know. It would give the hotel a fearful black eye--although it is no fault of ours.” “Very well,” observed Nick. “Then be careful that no one suspects my identity. I am Colonel Pearson, remember. If any one outside of yourselves were to know who I am, there would be no use my going on with the case.” “You can depend on us keeping it a secret,” asserted Savage promptly. “We are too anxious for you to solve the mystery to throw any obstacles in your way.” “That’s what!” added Mallory. “What do you think of it all?” “We have seen the effect,” returned Nick, “and we know that it must have a cause.” “That’s all right. But what is the cause?” growled Savage. “The cause is never less than the effect,” continued the detective. “Therefore, arguing by the importance of the effect, we must look for a fairly powerful cause. Now, let’s go up to the fourth floor.” The elevator man evidently had not heard of anything unusual in the hotel, for he merely glanced at the two partners and the gentleman he had come to know as Colonel Pearson, and when he was told to let them off at the fourth floor, he did so without emotion. “That’s good,” remarked Nick, as they walked along the thickly carpeted corridor. “I can see that the incident concerning Mrs. van D. has not become common property. Is this the door?” Savage nodded and opened a door with his master key, ushered them into a sitting room, and closed the door behind them. Nick Carter walked on to the bedroom, and after a cursory glance at the bed, went to the window. Drawing from his pocket a powerful magnifying glass, he proceeded to examine every inch of the window sill, working in a series of imaginary squares. The two partners watched him curiously, but he took no notice of them. When he had finished his minute inspection of the sill and frame, he threw up the window and leaned out. “You have made careful examination of the rocks under this window, I presume?” he asked. “Yes. We have gone over them thoroughly,” replied Savage. “There is nothing there.” “Ah! Whose rooms are those that overlook the water on this same floor? I see there is no shore or rocks at all there. The house seems to have been built straight out of the sea.” James Mallory walked to the window and looked out. He shook his head. “Come over here, Savage,” he said. “I don’t know what rooms they are. You know, don’t you?” “Yes,” answered his partner, putting out his head and looking along the rows of windows. “That window, where the curtain is blowing out, and the next one, are number forty-eight. A lady occupies the suite. Let me see! Oh, yes! the Baroness Latour.”