When he saw her next morning the wily man began by regretting that there seemed no way in which she could make herself of actual service such as she wanted to be engaged on, and only when Miss West was in a sufficiently subdued frame of mind at the idea of not being able to help after all did he advance his suggestion. “I hope you won't mind my asking,” he began, “but is there any—eh—tie between you and Mr. Carter?” “He won't let me consider myself engaged to him, but if ever he gets enough money to marry on, he and I are going to be married. I have a little income of my own, but he won't let that count.” She gave a proud little smile. “I see.” Pointer looked reflectively at his gloves. “I see. I was wondering if there isn't some way we could use your offer of help, but there is only one and you might not care for that.” He seemed to dismiss the idea. She leant forward eagerly. “Oh, but I'll do anything. _Anything._ I would for Rob's sake, let alone in the terrible position Jack is in. What is it, Mr. Pointer?” “Well, it's this. I wonder if you could go to France and look up Mrs. Erskine's circle? As a sort of relation, well then a friend of the family, her solicitor, Mr. Russell, would give you a letter of introduction, I know. If possible I should like you to stay in the house and try to find some clue which might clear up all this game of cross-purposes, for that's what's going on, Miss West. There's no _one_ case so tangled as this. What's happened, I feel sure, is that half-a-dozen ends have all got knotted up together. Now the real one may lie in the far past—back of Robert Erskine, or even of his father. I can see no other way of possibly stumbling on it than by trying to piece it out of his mother's recollections. Mrs. Erskine thinks there's nothing to tell, Mr. Russell says the same, but it's the only chance for a fresh cast as far as I can see. Will you go?” As he had foreseen, the idea did not appeal to Miss West in the least. “You mean,” she hesitated, “you mean to go and stay with Mrs. Erskine, if she will let me, and be a sort of spy in the house?” “Just so. No, I was afraid it wouldn't do. As a matter of fact, I wish I could have had someone in her villa weeks ago. Only the Yard won't run to needless expenses, you know, and—well, there it is.” He smiled cheerily. “You think it so important as all that?” He was quite honest. “I think it may lead to nothing, but I certainly think it worth trying. If you cared to go, you would be the very person. Mrs. Erskine used to have a companion long ago, I'm told. She might like to have a bright and, if you'll permit me to say so, Miss, a pretty face about her.” Christine made her decision. “I'm not going to pretend that it's what I wanted. And I don't think you'd be in the least deceived if I tried to hoodwink you. But I'll go, and if Mrs. Erskine asks me to stop with her I'll do it. I suppose I can always write to you?”