"She's a very wonderful woman, and she certainly has had a great run of luck," said Dollamore, as he walked back to his hotel. "To think of her getting hold of this Calmuck savage! By Jove! rich as he is, she'll try and find her way to the bottom of his sack of roubles. Tchernigow is wealthy, but his intendant will have to screw up the moujiks to the last copeck to provide for madame's splendid power of spending. She's evidently completely frightened of Mitford now. It must be sheer brutality that has done that, for he was no match for her in spirit, or anything else." As he said this, he arrived at the Badischer Hof, before the door of which was standing a dust-covered carriage with two steaming horses; and in the hall Lord Dollamore saw a man, whose back was towards him, talking earnestly to Mr. Aldermaston. The man turned round at the sound of footsteps, and then Dollamore saw that it was Sir Charles Mitford. CHAPTER XXXII. REAPING THE WHIRLWIND. Yes; Sir Charles Mitford had arrived at Baden. He had written several times to Mrs. Hammond in her country retreat, and, getting no reply, had called at her London house. The old charwoman there left in attendance was as vague as Mrs. Hammond could possibly have wished her to be about her mistress's movements. She had been there, Lor' bless me, yes, she had been there; but when was it?--We'nesday week, she thought, but won't be by no means certain. It was the day as she had had b'iled rabbit for dinner; she knew that, 'cos she was preparin' the onions when there come that thunderin' rat-tat at the door, which quite discomposed her and made her 'art jump into her mouth. What had happened then? Not much--a puttin' a few things together, which the missis and the Frenchwoman managed between them. And then she was sent out for a cab; and the cab came, and they all got into it, and the cab went off. Where? She couldn't say; leastways, they would not let her hear the direction--told the cabman to drive straight on, and they would tell him presently; that was all she knew--yes, that was all she knew, and all Mitford could get out of her by the closest cross-questioning. Laura Hammond had escaped him; but of her destination he was absolutely ignorant. How could he hit upon her track? The old woman--the last person who had seen her--was exhausted and pumped out, and had told next to nothing. Was there no one who could help him in this strait?--no one who could make some suggestion as to the best mode of discovering the fugitive? Yes!--a sudden brilliant thought struck him--the man who had discovered him when, as he thought, he lay so closely hid,--the detective, Inspector Stellfox.