"I suppose," I said, in an endeavour to allay the nervous old lady's fears, "I suppose there is some quite ordinary explanation for the strange occurrence. Many things which at first appear inexplicable are, when the truth is made plain, quite ordinary events. So it was, I suppose, with the picture and the ring which were consumed by what appears like spontaneous combustion." "I don't know," she replied. "I've thought over it a great deal, but the more I think of it, the more extraordinary it seems." "I regret to have troubled you," I said. "I must try and find her at whatever cost, for the matter is a most important one. If you should by any chance come across her again, or if she visits you, I should be obliged if you would at once communicate with me," and I handed her a card. "Certainly, sir," she replied. "The hussy entirely misled you, and I should like to be able to fathom the mystery how my picture and ring were reduced to ashes. If I ever do see her again, depend upon it that I'll let you know." Then, with woman's curiosity, pardonable in the circumstances, she asked, "Is the matter on which you wish to speak to her a personal one?" "It is, and yet it is not," I responded vaguely. "It concerns another person--a friend." With that I shook her hand, and accompanied by Ash, walked out and left the house. As we drove back down the Hampstead Road I turned to the valet and said-- "Do you remember whether a tall, dark, shabby-genteel man in a frock-coat and tall hat--a man with a thin, consumptive-looking face-- ever called upon your master?" I was thinking of Aline's companion, and of their remarkable conversation. At that moment it occurred to me that it might be of Roddy they had spoken, and not of myself. Did he urge her to kill my friend? Ash reflected deeply. "I don't remember any man answering that description," he responded. "After he became a Member of Parliament one or two strange people from his constituency called to see him, but I don't recollect anybody like the man you describe. How old was he?" "About forty; or perhaps a trifle over." The man shook his head. "No," he declared, "I don't think he ever called." "When your master sent you out with the note that morning had you any suspicion that he meant to receive a secret visitor? Now, don't conceal anything from me. Together we must fathom this mystery." He hesitated, then turning to me, answered-- "Well, to tell the truth, sir, I did." "What caused you to suspect?" "First, the letter being unaddressed was a rather curious fact," he responded slowly. "Then, I was to meet a lady whom he did not describe further than that she was youngish, and would wear a bunch of flowers. All this appeared strange, but my curiosity was further aroused because he had dressed more carefully than he usually did in a morning, as though visitors were coming." "Was he down at the House on the previous night?"