"At Cheltenham, sir. He had become Captain Lennox then, and was a very big card. Being Captain Lennox and a great swell, he is of course above peculations, unless some very tempting chance offers itself, as in the case of Major Piper's jewel-case. By his skill at cards and billiards he contrives to make a very comfortable income. He entices young men of fortune to his rooms, and there fleeces them. Do you follow me, sir?" "Quite so." "It would appear that he at length becomes fearful that Cheltenham is growing too warm for him; and he wisely beats a retreat from it before any suspicion touches him. Accompanied by his sister, Mrs. Ducie, he comes to Norfolk, and takes The Lilacs on a five or six years' lease. It would seem a curious, out-of-the-way place to come to," remarked Mr. Meath, looking off his note-book for a moment; "but no doubt Lennox knew what he was about, and I have very little doubt that the scheme has paid him handsomely. He must have known that there were many young men of family in this part of the country, some of them with more money than brains, and Captain Lennox having more brains than money was exactly the man to adjust the difference. It is a pity, sir, a great pity," added Mr. Meath, with a solemn shake of the head, "that so clever a rascal did not stop short at plucking pigeons, and leave the darker paths of villany untrodden. He might have gone on living as a gentleman and among gentlemen for years to come." Edward Conroy had been thinking. There were some discrepancies in this history. "You speak of Lennox as a tuner of pianos and an hotel clerk, Mr. Meath; but he is undoubtedly a gentleman, both as regards education and manners. I think he must have been born one." "Little doubt of that, sir. 'Tis but another edition of the old story, I take it. Well-connected parents, expensive bringing-up, perhaps good launch in life--perhaps not good through lack of funds: then temptation, weakness, ruin. Repudiated by friends, or perhaps friends dead. Then another start under a fresh name and from a lower rung of the ladder. Ah, my dear sir, such cases are unfortunately but too common. This is a queer world, yet men must live in it." Conroy silently assented. "How far do you suppose Mrs. Ducie has been implicated in these unpleasant matters?" The private detective shook his head. "Sir, I can't answer that. We have made no discovery against her as yet; neither do we care to push any. She is much attached to her brother, and she has clung to him in her sisterly affection. It can hardly be that she has lived without suspicion; any way, as to his making money by fleecing the world at cards. Whether she has known of worse things, I can't say. If so, one could not expect her to denounce him; but she must have walked upon thorns." "I suppose she is really a widow?--and her name Ducie?