"It doesn't seem to me very strange that she went," I returned. "I have been busy, but there is not very much to tell. I have got the house watched as you suggested. The Paris police telegraph that an Englishman named George Radley is at the Hotel Vendome, a harmless tourist apparently, going about Paris seeing the sights. Schuster was able to give me Bush's address, and I called upon him, but did not see him. He had gone to a case in Yorkshire, but may be back any time. He lives in Hampstead, in quite a pleasant flat overlooking the Heath." "Is he married?" "No, he has a housekeeper, rather a deaf old lady who speaks of him as the doctor." "You didn't chance to see a portrait of him?" "No, there were no photographs about of any kind. His hobby seems to be old prints, of which he has some good specimens. I should say his temperament is artistic." "That is an interesting conclusion," said the professor. "You didn't get any idea of his age?" "No. This morning I went to Clarence Lodge and find you are by no means liked there." "Indeed." "An old gentleman called there yesterday afternoon saying you had asked him to go and see Mrs. Crosland about her rheumatism--a Mr. Morrison." "The silly old ass!" exclaimed the professor. "He is the man I told Crosland of, the man who cured rheumatism so marvelously. I suppose Morrison misread my letter and went at once instead of waiting to be sent for." "Crosland appears to have given him a piece of his mind," I laughed, "and called you a meddlesome fool." "Poor old Morrison, but it serves him right." "He managed to see Mrs. Crosland," I said. "When the old lady heard he was there she would see him. As the son was anxious his mother shouldn't know of the tragedy, it was arranged that she should be told that Morrison's visit was the outcome of a casual remark Crosland had dropped to a friend concerning Mrs. Crosland's suffering. The old lady appears to have put the old man through his paces, but ended by being convinced that Morrison knew what he was talking about. He has been asked to call again." "Then I appear to have done the old lady a good turn after all," said Quarles. "Did you see Mrs. Crosland, Wigan?" "No. The butler opened the door, and I only saw young Crosland besides. I explained to him the necessity of having the house watched, and I think he believes I am afraid he will attempt to run away. He is a little nervous about his position in the affair. I reassured him." "It's a pity you didn't manage to see the old lady. Don't you think it would be interesting to know what she is like?" "I can't say I am very interested on that point." "Well, we can ask old Morrison," said Quarles. "I daresay his quackery has made him a close observer. You don't succeed as a quack unless you have a keen appreciation of the foibles and weaknesses of human nature." "You have my facts, Professor; now, have you progressed with your theory; has revolver practise had something to do with it?"