“I’m glad we have got confirmation,” remarked the detective. “But I do wish we could have directly implicated Stormont in it, that he had, for instance, taken the rôle in it played by Glenthorne, alias Whitehouse.” “We can guess he was at the back of it anyhow,” continued Grewgus. “Rather amusing his being at that first dinner. I expect he couldn’t resist the pleasure of hobnobbing with such a distinguished person as Wraysbury. But I think we have got enough against Stormont now, with the help of our venal friend Newcombe. He has kept himself pretty well in the background in this affair, but we have sufficient proof that he is the friend of blackmailers. And a man is known by the company he keeps.” “Quite true. Well, now that I know this, I shall tell Jasper Stormont at the earliest opportunity. I am staying with him at Brighton. I haven’t told you before, but I may as well tell you now, I am engaged to Jasper’s daughter. He is a bank official in China and she has been living with her uncle since she was a child. She is now with her parents at Brighton, and she must never return to the criminal atmosphere of Effington.” Grewgus had learned the fact of the engagement from Newcombe, but he affected to hear it for the first time. He fully concurred in the young man’s determination that she should not return to Effington. Later on, he was shown into a private sitting-room where he found Mr. Bertram Edwards, looking as smart and gentlemanly as ever. He could not help thinking that this elegant young crook, with his charming manners, must be a great asset to the gang. If he did not move in the most select circles like Wraysbury, it was evident, from what Lydon had told him of the Curzon Street party, that he had a foothold in quite respectable society. “You have come about this wretched Wraysbury matter, I understand?” he said in his pleasant, urbane tones. The detective intimated that this was the object of his visit. “And have you anything to propose, Mr. Grewgus?” “My client, Lord Wraysbury, has received a sort of unofficial intimation from a man named Glenthorne, who claims to be the lady’s uncle, that if the sum of two hundred thousand pounds is paid to you, you will abandon proceedings. I beg to tell you, Mr. Edwards, I shall advise his lordship not to pay you a single farthing.” Edwards tried to assume an expression of indifference, but it was easy to see he was taken aback by this blunt declaration. “In that case, sir, the action will proceed, and I shall go for heavy damages. I am not going to permit a young sprig of the nobility to violate the sanctity of my home, without making him smart for it in the only place where he can feel it--in his pocket.”