“Only that a further mystery is developing, which we may or may not discover. By the way, there is something I forgot to tell you. They left, as you have learned, a day before me. I wired at once to one of my men in London in code to find out if Zillah Mayhew had returned to Ashstead Mansions.” “And the reply?” “She had, and also the mother. They left Paris as Mrs. and Miss Glenthorne. They have returned to London as Mrs. and Miss Mayhew.” It was all very puzzling, very baffling. Lydon owned frankly he could not see his way through the maze. After a pause, the detective spoke. “Now the question is, Mr. Lydon, do you feel disposed to spend any more money?” “What is your advice?” asked the young man. “To go on,” answered the detective in a decided voice. “I am convinced that we are only at the beginning of the mystery.” “So be it, then. What are the next steps?” “Simmons only awaits a message from me to take them. In the course of conversation, Calliard told me he was only staying three days longer in Paris. He is going on to Brussels, where he does a big business. Now you have decided, I shall instruct him to follow Calliard. If there is a further mystery, as I strongly suspect, it is round him that it will centre. Here in London I shall keep observation upon Miss Mayhew, and if I can possibly come across him, upon Edwards.” With that the interview ended. At the end of another week, Jasper Stormont and his wife came back to the _Cecil_, bringing Gloria with them. Lydon had a shrewd suspicion that the banker, who, according to his daughter’s account, was a man of simple tastes and habits, was not a little oppressed by the opulence and splendour of Effington. CHAPTER FOURTEEN It was not long before Grewgus’ prophecy that they were only at the beginning of the mystery came true. What is now about to be narrated is gleaned from the letters sent to his chief from Brussels by Simmons. Later on he came to England, and amplified the various details of the whole affair. Monsieur Calliard went to Brussels in due course from Paris and took up his quarters at one of the well-known hotels in that delightful city. Simmons, obeying his chief’s telegraphed instructions, followed him, and was always at his heels. On this visit the gay old Frenchman was apparently devoting himself whole-heartedly to his business, and not indulging in any little flutters. His habits were exceedingly regular. He devoted his mornings, and frequently his afternoons, to visits to his various customers. The rest of his time he spent at the hotel. No ladies, young or middle-aged, relieved the monotony of his leisure moments.