"Your life is in danger," he answered bluntly, "in great danger. Alphonse Furneaux has penetrated your disguise, and I have every reason to believe that he has betrayed your identity to the rest of the gang. If that is so, you can hardly escape their vengeance unless you leave here at once, under my protection, and return to London. Even there you will need to be extremely careful. Please prepare to come now. It may already be too late." "I can't do that," I answered firmly, facing him. "Miss Challoner, the daughter of Sir Roland Challoner, has unwittingly become mixed up with these people; she suspects nothing, and as yet I have been unable to warn her of the grave risk she runs by remaining with them. It is solely on her account that I am here. I must remain by her at all costs to protect her—and to warn her as soon as possible." "You can safely leave that to me, Mr. Berrington," the stranger answered, with a keen glance. "If you stay here another night I won't be responsible for your safety—indeed, I don't consider that I am responsible for it now. Quick, please, pack your things." "Impossible," I replied doggedly. "You don't understand the situation, Mr.—" "Albeury—Victor Albeury." "You don't understand the situation, Mr. Albeury—I am engaged to be married to Miss Challoner, and I can't at any cost desert her at such a time. She has struck up an extraordinary friendship with Mrs. Stapleton, who is staying in this hotel and is mixed up with the gang, and I want to watch their movements while retaining my disguise." "But of what use is your disguise," Albeury cut in quickly, "now that, as I told you, these scoundrels are aware of your identity, or will be very soon? You have no idea, Mr. Berrington, of the class of criminal you have to deal with. These men and women have so much money and are so presentable and plausible, also so extremely clever, that you would have the greatest difficulty in inducing any ordinary people to believe they are not rich folk of good social standing, let alone that they are criminals. If you insist upon remaining here it will be nothing less than madness." "And yet I insist," I said. The stranger shrugged his shoulders. Then he sat down, asked if he might light a cigarette, and for a minute or so remained wrapped in thought. "Supposing that I could induce Miss Challoner to come away," he said suddenly, "would you come then?" "Of course I should," I answered. "I have told you it is only because she is here that I remain here." Albeury rose abruptly, and tossed his half-smoked cigarette into the grate. "Wait here until I return," he said. He unlocked the door, and went out of the room. I heard his footsteps grow fainter and fainter as he went along the corridor.