"There are two young women in the house. What the deuce can that mean?" "Two young women? Oh! then everything's as simple as daylight. Katrina Pushkin, my cousin, had a child." "Child? Hargreave had a child? What do you mean by keeping this fact from me?" he stormed. "It was useless till this moment. He probably sent for her yesterday; but in his effort to escape had to turn her over to his butler. We shall soon learn whether Hargreave is dead or alive. We can use the child to bring him back." The anger went out of his eyes. "You're a wonder, Olga." "But you should have gone with Vroon last night. He does everything just as you tell him. When they reported that Hargreave had visited Orts' hangar you ought to have prepared against such a coup as flight through the air." "I admit it. But a daughter! Well, I can bring him back," with a sinister laugh. "By the Lord Harry, I have him in my hands this time, that is, if this girl turns out to be his daughter. A million? Two, three, all he has in the world. I want you to pay a visit right away. Watch the butler, Jones. He'll lie, of course; but note how he treats the girl; and if you get the chance look around the walls for a secret panel. He might not have carried away the cash at all, only enough for his immediate needs, which would account for that five thousand on the man picked up at sea. If I could only get inside that house for an hour!" "I believe I'll call at once. Leo, was Hargreave the man's real name?" Braine laughed. "That is of no vital consequence. He will be Hargreave till the end of the chapter, dead or alive. You can tell me the news at dinner to-night." So, later, when the butler accepted her card at the door, loath as he might be, there was nothing for him to do but admit her. "Whom do you wish to see, madam?" stepping back into the shadow. "Miss Hargreave. I'm an old friend of her mother's." "There is no such person here." "To whom, then, does this hat belong?" she asked quietly. She waved her hand indolently toward the hall rack. Jones' lips tightened. "That belongs to Miss Gray, a kind of protegee of Mr. Hargreave's." "Indeed! You have no objections to my seeing her? My maiden name was Olga Pushkin, cousin to Katrina, wife of Stanley Hargreave. I am, if you will weigh the matter carefully, a kind of aunt." To Jones it was as if ice had suddenly come into contact with his heart's blood. But as he still stood in the shadow, she did not observe the pallor of his face. "If you will state exactly why you wish to see her, madam." "You seem to possess authority?" "Yes, madam, absolute authority." Jones produced his document and presented it to her. "There is no flaw in that," she agreed readily. "I wish to see the child. I have told you why."