Nick’s train of thought was broken by a shadow on the figured-glass panel of the door, which was opened by a pretty servant girl in a white apron and starched cap. “I wish to see Mrs. Clayton,” Nick informed her. “Mrs. Clayton is not at home this evening, sir,” said the girl, a bit oddly. “Not at home?” “No, sir.” Nick eyed her more sharply. “Do you mean that she is not here, or not seeing callers?” he inquired pleasantly. “Well, sir, she----” The girl faltered, blushing confusedly, and Nick added kindly: “I understand. Take my card to her, please, and say that it is very important that I should see her. I think she will consent.” The girl obeyed, returning in a very few moments. “Walk in, sir,” she then said, smiling again. “Mrs. Clayton will see you in the library. This way, sir.” Nick was ushered into the attractively furnished room, where he found Mrs. Julia Clayton still gazing gravely at the card he had sent in. There was something irresistibly impressive about her, a mingling of dignity and secret sadness that the detective’s sensitive nature was quick to appreciate, even while conscious of her remarkable beauty and womanly grace. She arose immediately to greet him, extending her hand and saying: “If I had known it was you, Mr. Carter, my servant would have been told not to keep you waiting. I have had a most distressing day, and I did not feel that I could see callers. I assure you, nevertheless, that I am very glad to see you.” “Thank you,” Nick replied, bowing. “For I am deeply indebted to you,” Mrs. Clayton added feelingly. “Chester telephoned to me after his arrest and liberation on bail. It is very kind of you to feel such an interest in him, and to use your influence in his behalf.” “He is my client,” smiled Nick, taking a chair she placed for him. “I couldn’t do less than I have done.” “But in spite of such adverse circumstances, Mr. Carter, and the fact that so many think him guilty,” she replied. “You are one man in a hundred. I know that he is innocent, of course, but I don’t know how I ever can repay you for your faith in him.” “I will tell you how, Mrs. Clayton,” Nick said, more gravely. “Tell me how?” “Yes.” “What do you mean? “Let me begin by--pardon!” Nick broke off abruptly. “Will you permit me to close the door?” “Yes, of course, if----” Nick arose when she faltered, quietly closing it, then resumed his seat. “Servants are not always trustworthy, you know, and discretion is always advisable,” he remarked. “Now, Mrs. Clayton, I will tell you what I mean.” “Well, sir?” “Let me begin, however, by stating that anything you say to me will be received in strict and inviolable confidence. Not even to save your son from conviction and a prison sentence, Mrs. Clayton, would I, without your permission, reveal any facts that you may disclose. You must be frank with me, therefore, and tell me what I may find it absolutely necessary to know, in order to save him.”