"It is not for you to allow," said Dr. Peterssen, coolly. "With me it goes, and to-morrow shall be returned. It contains private papers perhaps; all the better." The key being in it, he turned it in the lock, and threw it to M. Felix. "You cannot object now, and it would make no difference if you did. My locking it proves that I do not intend to pry into your secrets unless you force me. Good-night." He spoke with an air of fierce determination, and M. Felix felt himself powerless. Sitting almost helpless in his chair, he saw the man who held his fate in his hands pass out of the door, and heard his steps descending the stairs. CHAPTER XLII. EMILIA AND M. FELIX. Emilia, watching in the snow-clad street, saw Mrs. Middlemore issue from the house with a large jug in her hand. She dared not go up to the housekeeper while Dr. Peterssen was in the house, and with a sinking heart she recognized that the hope she had entertained of obtaining entrance by means of the story she had mentally rehearsed was lost. But she would not leave the spot until Dr. Peterssen appeared. She had no intention of accosting him, for that she felt would be disastrous, but she would follow him, if she could do so safely, to see where he lived or lodged. It might be a point gained, although she did not at that moment see how it could be used to her advantage. She had not long to wait. About ten minutes after Mrs. Middlemore left the house, the street-door was opened again, and Dr. Peterssen appeared. He carried beneath his right arm that which would have sent a thrill of passionate emotion to Emilia's heart, but she was too deeply observant of his personal movements to see the desk which he had taken away with him as a guarantee. He made no pause, but plunged immediately into the snow, and Emilia was about to follow him when she suddenly observed that he had not closed the door behind him. Her attention was instantly diverted from the man. Here was the opportunity for which she had disguised herself, for which she had been waiting. Without thinking of the consequences, she glided into the house and shut the door. Emilia would have scarcely known how to proceed now had it not been that M. Felix, hearing the street-door closed, rose to close his own, which Dr. Peterssen had left ajar. Before putting his intention into execution he opened it a little wider, and inclined his head to the stairs, as if in the act of listening. The stream of light which this action threw into the passage was a guide to Emilia, who, without hesitation, ran up the stairs and confronted him. Startled by her appearance he fell back a step or two, which afforded Emilia space to enter the apartment. "Who are you? What do you want?" gasped M. Felix, dreading at first whether this was not part of a plot which Dr. Peterssen had devised for his injury. But his doubts were immediately dispelled. "I am Emilia Paget," said Emilia, "and I want justice."