‘Ah, sir,’ said the officer, ‘I’m sorry you’re not a friend of the poor gentleman’s. He really _wants_ a friend. To see him coming here day after day, as white as a ghost, and his eyes all wild with crying, almost turned me over, old hand as I am; and the rummest thing of all is, he won’t hear a word, not as much as a whisper, against the lady--though it looks black about her, it really does. Good-morning, sir! We’ll be sure to let you know.’ Had Sutherland been asked why he occupied himself so closely with the fate of a woman almost a stranger to him, he could hardly have replied. His first chivalrous interest had grown into a sentimental fancy, that was all; and being a man of very determined prepossessions, especially where his great hobby concerning Womanhood was concerned, he had been led on and on, from one phase of feeling to another, till his interest in Madeline became very like a strong ideal passion. Like all the world, he had heard of her disappearance, and, learning her connection with Gavrolles, he had a pretty shrewd guess at its cause. So he had yielded to his overmastering interest and curiosity, and determined to make the matter a subject for private, but thorough, inquiry. Before many days had passed he received a summons which caused him no little agitation. The chief wanted to see him at once. Madeline had been discovered, but under circumstances so dreadful that he scarcely dared to communicate them at all to her distracted husband. CHAPTER XXXVIII.--‘ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE’ On arriving at the inquiry office, Sutherland was at once shown in to the chief of the establishment, who looked truly concerned and anxious. ‘Glad you’ve come, sir,’ he said at once; ‘for perhaps you can help me out of my quandary. You got my little note? Well, the fact is, I think--I’m almost sure, in fact--that we’ve discovered the lady.’ ‘So you wrote; but how? Where? 9 ‘Well, it’s a sad case!’ murmured the chief with a shake of the head. ‘How we’re to break it to the husband, who is half mad with grief and anxiety, is a puzzler. My great fear is that the news may get to him before we’ve time to break it.’ ‘Explain!’ cried Sutherland impatiently. The chief opened his desk, and took out a large handbill, which he unfolded. ‘Just look at this, sir,’ he said, while the young man read it with a shudder. ‘This is only a copy of the bill which the police will have all over London to-morrow, and perhaps in some of the papers. I’ve already been down to Chelsea to make an inspection, and I don’t think there’s any mistake about it. What makes it quite clear is the bracelets. Her Christian name--Madeline--is graven inside.--But you’re not well, sir. I don’t wonder it has turned you sick. Shall I give you a drop of brandy? I have it handy.’ Sutherland, who had turned faint and deadly pale, recovered himself with an effort. ‘Never mind me. Think of him, her husband. You say you haven’t communicated with him?’