"Really," I answered, shortly, "I can't see what concern that is of yours. I have known the Thorolds intimately for a good many years. Perhaps you will tell me your reason for the extraordinary liberty you took last night in bringing us here. I consider it a gross impertinence." "Impertinence!" he laughed. "Let me tell you both," he said, "that you have to thank this lady," he turned slightly to indicate the Baronne, "for being alive to-day. When I brought you here I intended that neither of you should ever again be heard of. Your disappearance would have made a stir, no doubt, but the stir would not have lasted; you would soon have been forgotten here. Dead men tell no tales. But the Baronne interfered." "I'm sure we feel deeply grateful," I answered ironically. "One would think we were conspirators, or criminals, by the way you talk. So far as I'm aware, I never set eyes on you until last night in the _Hotel de Paris_." "Quite likely," he replied, "but that is beside the point. You possess information you have no right to possess. You know the Thorolds' secret, and until your lips are closed I shall not feel safe." Ah! that remarkable secret again! What on earth could it be? That was the thought that flashed across my mind, but I merely answered--"You can't suppose I shall reveal it?" He smiled coldly. "Not reveal it, man, when you know what is at stake! You must think me very confiding if you suppose I shall trust your bare assurance. As I have said, I intended to--to--well, to close both your mouths." "Why Faulkner's," I asked. "Because he is to marry Gladys Deroxe, who is so friendly with Vera Thorold, who is to be my wife. Vera knows too much, and may have told her little friend what she knows. I mistrust Vera's friends--even her friends' friends. You understand?" "At that rate," I answered, growing reckless, "you will need to `remove' a good many people." "That is possible. It is for that reason--" "Oh, why talk so much!" the Baronne interrupted impatiently. "Tell him everything in a few words, and have done with it!" "I will." He said fiercely, "You both stand in my way. I brought you here last night to get rid of you. I came into this room some minutes ago to carry out my plan. I was going to kill you both with an anaesthetic. Then the Baronne came in, threatening to wake you if I tried to do what I had said I should. I felt you touch me in the dark, I knew we had awakened you, and at once seized you--the Baronne held your throat to prevent your calling out. Then Faulkner sprang up and turned on the light and--" He paused, listening. There had been another cry for help, barely audible even in the stillness of the night. He glanced at his companion. She too had heard it.