Ten minutes later, and precisely ten minutes after Tony Selig ceased watching the Deland residence, Nick alighted in the disguise of an elderly man from his taxicab and rang the doorbell of the imposing stone mansion. The summons was answered by the butler, Hawley, to whom Nick said tentatively: “Is Sir Edward Deland at home?” “No, sir,” Hawley politely informed him. “He is in New York to-day. He is expected here to-morrow.” “Lady Deland, then?” “She is at home, sir. I will take in your card, sir, if----” “Take this note to her, instead, and say that I would like to see her immediately,” Nick directed, interrupting. “Walk in, sir.” Nick had waited only a few moments in the reception hall, when the butler returned and conducted him to the library, where he found Lady Deland awaiting him--a stately, beautiful woman still in the twenties, whose pale cheeks and apprehensive eyes denoted with what misgivings she had read Senator Barclay’s note introducing the famous detective. “Close the door when you go out,” she directed, with a glance at the butler. “Yes, your ladyship.” Hawley bowed himself from the room. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Carter, and long have known you by name,” said Lady Deland, then shaking hands with the detective. “Tell me--what is the meaning of this visit? Has anything happened to Sir Edward Deland, or to----” She hesitated, turning deathly white when Nick, removing his disguise, said gravely: “You have anticipated what has happened, Lady Deland.” “You know?” she gasped. “Senator Barclay was forced to confide in me.” “Oh, my God!” The woman reeled as if about to faint, and Nick helped her to a chair, saying quickly: “Do not be alarmed. Nothing confided to me, Lady Deland, ever goes farther. I know all of the circumstances and appreciate your position. I hope to accomplish all that is necessary to set you right. I really expect to do so, in fact, so try to be calm and give me your assistance. Both are imperative to what I have in view.” Nick’s encouraging words were not without effect upon her. Lady Deland drew up in her chair, composing herself with an effort and replying gratefully: “Thank you, thank you, Mr. Carter; but, oh, this is terrible. How could I have done such a thing? Tell me the worst. Let me know the worst.” Nick then informed her as briefly as possible of the strange combination of circumstances resulting in the loss of the fateful document and her letter relating to it, adding, with convincing earnestness: “Senator Barclay is in no sense to blame for the misfortune. He thought the safest place for the document during the single night he was to retain it was in the pocket of the coat in his own room.”