That was asking too much of a mother who had endured such heart-searchings during a day of misery. Not even the glamour of a wealthy marriage could blind Mrs. Mordaunt to certain traits in his character which the stress of fear had brought to the surface. She began to ask herself if, after all, Violet were not right in her dread of the man. She was afraid of she knew not what; so kind-hearted Mrs. Harrod's first natural question as to Violet's well-being drew a flood of tears and a resultant outpouring of the whole tragedy. But, lo and behold! Mrs. Harrod had dreamed of clear water and a trotting horse the previous night, and this combination was irresistible in its excellence on behalf of her friends. Mrs. Harrod's prophetic dreams were always vicarious; her own fortunes were fixed--so much _per annum_ earned by keeping a first-rate private hotel. The manifold attractions of town life did not suffice to while away the weary hours of that evening for at least three people in London. Violet, returning from Chalfont, took a room in the Great Western Hotel at Paddington, and, when asked to sign the register, obeyed some unaccountable impulse by writing "Miss Barnes." It gave her a thrill to see poor Gwendoline's _nom de théâtre_ thus resurrected, and there was something uncanny in the incident too; but she was aroused by the hotel clerk's respectful inquiry if she had any luggage. "No," she said, somewhat embarrassed; "but I will pay for my room in advance, if you wish." "That is not necessary, madam, thank you," was the answer; so Violet, unconscious of the trust reposed in her appearance, took her key and went to rest a little before undertaking the last task she had set herself. She carried in her hand some violets which she had bought from a poor woman outside the hotel. Van Hupfeldt, tortured by want of knowledge of the actions of those in whom he was most interested, was compelled to enlist Neil's services again after reviling him. The valet went openly to Eddystone Mansions and inquired for Harcourt. "He's bin aht all d'y," said Jim the porter, speculating on Neil's fighting weight, if he was one of the ghosts to be laid after midnight. Neil brought back this welcome information, and Van Hupfeldt hoped uneasily that his ruse had been successful. If it had, David would be somewhere near Birmingham, and would there await a message from Violet, which Van Hupfeldt would take care he received next day. As for David, he smoked and mused in Hyde Park until after night had fallen. Then he returned to his abode by the way indicated by the porter, and smoked again in the dark, and without a fire, until a few minutes after midnight, when he heard the clank of the ascending lift, followed by a ring at the door. In case of accident, he had his revolver in his pocket this time; moreover, his right hand was ready when he opened the door with his left.