Vera brought the paper and essentials. With a smile on her face Mrs. May wrote the letter. Inside the envelope she placed something she had taken from the bosom of her dress. "A cake of chocolate," she explained smilingly. "See, I do not address the envelope, but place on it this funny sign that looks like an intoxicated problem in Euclid. The child will understand. And now I am going to ask you to do me a favor. Will you please take the letter without letting anybody know what you are doing, and put it at the foot of the big elder in the tangle? I dare say it sounds very stupid of me, but I don't want the child to be disappointed." Vera professed herself ready and also to be charmed with the idea. She would go at once, she said, and Mrs. May raised no obstacle. At the end of the corridor Vera was confronted with her uncle Ralph. He held out his hand. "I was listening," he said. "I knew beyond all doubt that something of the kind would be attempted. I want that letter." "But uncle, I promised----" "It matters nothing what you promised. It is of vital importance that the inside of that letter should be seen. Chocolate for a child, indeed. Death to us all, rather. You are going to give me that letter and I am going to open it. Afterwards it shall be sealed again, and you shall convey it to its destination. The letter!" Dazed and bewildered, Vera handed it to him. It was not a nice thing to do, but, then, nice methods were not for Mrs. May. Ralph grasped the letter and made off towards his room. "Wait here," he said. "I shall not be a few minutes. I am merely going to steam that envelope open and master the contents. Don't go away." Vera nodded. She was too astonished for words; not that she felt compunction any longer. Presently Ralph returned. "There you are, my child," he said. "If I seemed harsh to you, forgive me. It is no time for courtesies. You can take the letter now and deliver it. It has been a good and great discovery for us." CHAPTER LIV EXIT THE ASIATICS Tchigorsky, Ralph Ravenspur, and Geoffrey sat smoking in the blind man's room. It was late the same afternoon and from the window could be heard the thunder of the incoming tide. Tchigorsky appeared to be in excellent spirits, puffed his cigarette with gusto and came out in the new rôle of a _raconteur_. "We have them all now," he said. "To-day will settle everything. It was a pretty idea of Ralph's to hang about the corridor under the impression that the woman would try to send some kind of message to her familiars. Real genius, I call it." "Not a bit of it," Ralph said doggedly. "Pshaw, a child would have done the same. The woman was bound to try to send a letter. She lies there helpless, but knows that somebody is moving in her tracks. And, to add to her suspense, she hasn't an idea who is following her up.