The Inspector scribbled two lines in his note-book, and hurried off. Meanwhile my position was becoming more difficult every hour. I had to look on and see the toils closing round one whom I would have given my life to protect, without daring to show the least sign of personal interest in her fate. My own peril, serious as it was, affected me but little in comparison with hers. I can honestly say that I should have been ready to draw suspicion on myself if I could have screened her by so doing. But the very reverse was the case, as I knew too well. The only course open to me was to hold my tongue, to keep a strict guard on myself, and to watch for any chance that might present itself of diverting suspicion from either of us. I was afraid to commit myself by any expression of opinion on the case as it stood against Lady Violet, but I thought I might venture to remind my chief that she was not the only person implicated. He had dismissed Sarah Neobard altogether from the inquiry, or so it seemed, but the mysterious Leopardess remained to be identified. I ventured on a question. “Do you think, Sir Frank, there is any chance of the police getting on the trail of the woman who wore the leopard skin? According to the waiter’s evidence she was the one who showed most hostility to Weathered. She refused to dance with him, you may remember. Somehow Gerard gave me the impression that she was his only real enemy.” I was gratified by Tarleton’s quick response. “You are perfectly right, Cassilis. That is the very point I was considering before you spoke. In my opinion there is very little likelihood of Charles tracing that woman. I think you and I must try our hand.” I need scarcely say how delighted I was at this prospect. At last I should be able to devote myself to serving my chief without any dread of the result. “Will it be possible to trace the leopard skin?” I asked. “There are not many taxidermists in London, are there? I have only heard of one. We might go round to them, and find out if any skins have passed through their hands recently. What strikes me is that all the skins I have seen have been mounted as rugs. I shouldn’t think that unmounted skins could be very common--skins that could be made part of a costume.” My chief had punctuated these suggestions with a series of approving nods. At the close he spoke. “Very good indeed, Cassilis. You have the makings of a detective, I can see. And now let me explain to you where I see a chance of success. You may put the taxidermists on one side. Leopard skins are such perishable things, and the climates in which leopards are killed are so treacherous, that the skins have to be roughly cured on the spot if they are to be preserved. And they are too common to be the object of much care afterwards as a rule. The chances are against any particular skin having passed through the hands of a taxidermist in London unless it was to be mounted as a rug.”