Edgson's, the old butler's voice, came from without in trembling tones. "Lud a mussy! Is that you, Sir Raife? You have given us a fright! I saw a light in the library and thought there was burglars again. And I've got all the men and the gardeners and we've surrounded the house." Sir Raife laughed a forced, hearty laugh, exclaiming: "Well done, Edgson! You were quite right, but there aren't any burglars this time. No, I'm just at work on some of my papers, that's all." Then, turning the key and holding the door slightly ajar, he added: "Give them all a drink, and send them to bed again. I shan't be long myself, now." The old man replied respectfully: "Very good, Sir Raife." As he walked down the long corridor behind the other servants who had accompanied him on his well-planned police expedition, Edgson laughed softly to himself. He remembered some of the stories told to him of Master Raife's escapades in the long white room at the "Blue Boar." It was not a very good explanation, but it served at the moment. When the sound of the last footsteps had died away, Raife returned to Gilda and beckoned her from the curtains, saying: "Now, Gilda, tell me all that happened after you disappeared from the hotel at Nice. Tell me some of the worst of this man Malsano's crimes?" Gilda told how she had seen Raife and Lady Remington at Bordighera. Of her flight from there in the motor-car, of the accident and her escape, and the long journey by a circuitous route to England, where she met her uncle. She told how he had planned this burglary, and was plotting to steal the jewels whilst the baroness was at the Hotel Royal, Nice. In a low, musical voice, she related the long story of a young, beautiful girl's life, ruined by the unscrupulous machinations of a human fiend. She reclined in a deep, leather arm-chair, facing the still open safe, with the baroness's jewels scattered about on the floor. The simplicity with which she told her sad story, the sincerity of her manner contrasted with the incongruous surroundings and recent events. Raife Remington's mind and heart were torn with confused passions. His pride had received a shock so cruel, that it seemed utterly impossible to condone the offence. He was still suffering from a sense of extreme exasperation. Was this girl telling the whole truth, or only a portion?