How Bertha Gerhardt obtained her knowledge of the skeleton in their cupboard is still a mystery. But it is believed that Sir Arthur’s scapegrace brother, who hated his father’s heir with a hatred which could hardly be equalled by men of alien races, had made a confidant of her, and that she had sought the post of governess as a means of securing the incriminating documents. “Have you a photograph of Fraulein Gerhardt?” inquired Mr Bell, before whom Sir Arthur had just laid his case. “Yes, we have a small one, though the original does not know,” was the reply. “My wife is very fond of amateur photography, and has photographed nearly every nook and cranny of the house and estate. Miss Gerhardt is not handsome, and she always laughingly refused to have her plainness perpetuated on paper. One morning Lady Brackett had had her camera taken into the drawing-room and had embraced the governess within its scope ere that lady was aware of her intention. When she discovered she had been photographed she with difficulty kept back the signs of her anger, and it was rather odd that the negative of the little picture should have been found broken a day or two later. But, though Miss Gerhardt was not made aware of the fact, two or three prints had been taken before the negative was destroyed, and from one of these we have enlarged her photograph. Here is a copy. It is not very good, but will no doubt be useful.” “Excellent, Sir Arthur! It is evidently a good likeness, and will suit us even better than one which has been toned down and touched up by a professional photographer for the sake of flattering a customer. It is quite apparent that this clever lady meant to take every precaution against being over-reached. She will be astonished when we run her to earth.” “I hope you will manage that feat.” “I do not think there is much doubt on the subject. It is simply a matter of time.” “And meanwhile my fortune is being drained.” “We will be as expeditious as possible. You say that Miss Gerhardt must not be arrested.” “By no means! Everything depends upon strict secrecy. Were this not the case we would not have parted so readily with the money which has been demanded of us from time to time.” “And you have no idea where this woman resides since she quitted Brackett Hall?” “Not the slightest. We were surprised and mystified at her sudden departure, but did not suspect her of any covert act until she wrote to us. Her letter was an impudent avowal of her abstraction of the papers upon which our destiny hangs, and she demanded a large amount of money as the price of her silence. Since then we have had several letters from her, but both her letters and our remittances all pass through the hands of a shady solicitor, who lives in a short street off the Strand, and who will give us no clue to his client’s whereabouts.”