“That of course would have entailed a great deal more expense than I felt myself justified in putting you to,” said Grewgus in exculpating himself. “The last time I saw Zillah Mayhew, she was dining as usual with her elderly cavalier. Edwards, according to custom, was spending his evenings at one of the music-halls. My colleague Simmons never observed him with anybody, and he never met Miss Mayhew at night. And it is pretty certain that he never came into contact with Calliard. Whatever business was to be carried on with the Frenchman seemed to be left entirely in her hands. No doubt she talked things over with Edwards in their daily meetings.” “You have not even proved conclusively that her object was what we all thought it to be, blackmail?” interjected Lydon. “If you don’t mind, I will just leave that question unanswered for a moment or two while I relate how they gave us the slip. On that particular morning, no Zillah Mayhew issued forth from the hotel. I waited about for a very long time till Simmons joined me. His news was startling. Edwards, who, as I told you, had put up in another part of the town, did not turn out either. After a decent interval, Simmons, who knows somebody in pretty nearly every hotel in Paris, went in and made inquiries. “He learned that Edwards had left some two hours before, carrying his luggage, a very light portmanteau, with him. He had told them he was returning to England. Of course I smelt a rat at once, and instructed Simmons to go into the _Terminus_ and inquire if Mrs. and Miss Glenthorne were still there. The answer was in the negative. They had also made an early departure, and had driven to the Gare du Nord; presumably they were returning to England too.” “It seems pretty clear they found out they were being watched, and judged it prudent to leave,” was Lydon’s natural comment. “It looks very like it,” admitted Grewgus. “Now comes the surprising part of the story. I should have come away at once, but that I had a fancy to interview Calliard to ascertain if our suspicions were correct--our suspicions, I mean, as to the object of her acquaintance with a man so much her senior.” Grewgus then proceeded to narrate how, on the following evening, he had run the jeweller to earth, while dining at one of his favourite restaurants. He was alone at a rather big table, and the detective seated himself at it, after a polite apology to the Frenchman for disturbing him, which was accepted with the habitual courtesy of his country. Presently they got into general conversation, and when he judged the time was ripe, Grewgus produced his card and handed it to him.