She lifted out the contents of the box. The first article was a large gauntlet glove that reached almost to her elbow. It was a man’s glove, and left-handed. The only other thing in the box was a long, sharp-pointed knife with a cup-like guard. She handled it carefully, feeling the edge; it was as sharp as a razor. For a long time she sat looking at the weapon and the glove, and then she got up and went to the telephone and gave a number. She waited for a long time, until the operator told her there was no answer. At nine o’clock. She looked at her watch. It was past eight already, and she had no time to lose. She put the glove and the knife in a big leather hand-bag, wrapped herself in her cloak, and went out. Half an hour later, Derrick Yale and Mr. Parr ascended the steps of Froyant’s residence and were admitted by a servant. The first thing Derrick Yale noticed was that the passage was brilliantly illuminated; all the lights in the hall were on, and even the lamps on the landing above were in full blaze, a curious circumstance, remembering Mr. Harvey Froyant’s parsimony. Usually he contented himself with one feeble light in the hall, and any room in the house that was not in use was in darkness. The library was a room opening from the main hall; the door was wide open, and the visitors saw that the room was as brilliantly lighted as the hall. Harvey Froyant was sitting at his desk, a smile on his tired face, but for all his weariness there was self-satisfaction in every gesture, every note in his voice. “Well, gentlemen,” he said almost jovially, “I’m going to give you a little information which I think will startle and amuse you.” He chuckled and rubbed his hands. “I have just called up the Chief Commissioner, Parr,” he said, peering up at the stout detective. “In a case like this one wants to be on the safe side. Anything may happen to you two gentlemen after you leave this house, and we cannot have too many people in our secret. Will you take your overcoats off? I am going to tell you a story which may take some time.” At that moment the telephone bell trilled, and they stood watching him as he took down the receiver. “Yes, yes, colonel,” he said. “I have a very important communication to make; may I call you up in a second or two? You will be there? Good.” He replaced the instrument. They saw him frown undecidedly, and then: “I think I’ll talk to the colonel now, if you don’t mind stepping into another room and closing the door. I don’t want to anticipate the little sensation which I am creating.” “Certainly,” said Parr, and walked from the room. Derrick Yale hesitated. “Is this communication about the Crimson Circle?” “I will tell you,” said Mr. Froyant. “Just give me five minutes and then you shall have your thrill of sensation.” Derrick Yale laughed, and Parr, who had reached the hall, smiled in sympathy. “It takes a lot to thrill me,” said Derrick.