The chief turned to Ruxton, who was eagerly intent upon the man's information. "I sent him"--indicating the plain-clothes man--"as a heating expert from a well-known horticultural firm." Ruxton nodded. "You saw the butler--a foreigner?" "Yes, sir." "Did you gather an--impression from him?" "He seemed straightforward and quite ready to talk, sir. I'm sure he knew nothing more, and seemed to believe what he said." "There's nothing else?" "No, sir, I think not. The place seemed all reg'lar. You see, sir, I've often 'ad to keep an eye on it when the lady's been away holiday-makin', and during the war. You see, she's a foreigner. So I know it pretty well, though it don't know me. One thing that struck me he was speaking truth was there was a tidy bunch of letters on a hall table. Might have been an accumulation." "Letters--ah." Ruxton turned to the chief. "I think you'd better come with me and look into things. Those letters. There should be an important telegram there--if----" He rose from his chair with a sickening fear at his heart. The chief dismissed his subordinate and waited for Ruxton to complete his remark. But as no completion was forthcoming he attempted one himself. "If there's been no trickery, sir." "If she went away of her own free will--that's what we've got to find out. Come along." Half an hour later Ruxton was addressing himself to the black-haired, sallow-faced Vassilitz, who was urbanity itself in the face of the chief of the Wednesford police. His story was exactly the same as he had told to the plain-clothes man, and no amount of cross-examination could elicit the smallest shadow of contradiction. Madame was frequently in the habit of going away suddenly and remaining away indefinite periods. But usually she used her own car, and rarely took her maid. Sometimes she said when she would be back; sometimes not. On this occasion she did not. No, she was unaccompanied except for her maid, Francella, Vassilitz's own sister. And she, Francella, had given him no information. Madame was very secret in her movements. Doubtless madame would return in due course, as she had always done. He hoped no accident had happened. He was devoted to madame, whom he had known all his life. Even the matter of letters in no way disconcerted him. They were all there on the hall table. But he appealed to the chief of police for authority to show them. The chief assumed the responsibility, and they were produced. They were examined carefully, and all but one telegram were duly handed back to the butler. The telegram was sequestered by the officer, but remained unopened. There was nothing more to be gained from Vassilitz, and the car rolled away. And as they went, Ruxton, in an agony of painful conviction, gazed sombrely back at the beautiful old Elizabethan structure in its perfect setting, which was the home of the woman he loved. He was aroused from his despairing contemplation by the voice of the officer beside him.