Pamela, after all her hesitation, seemed to make up her mind with startling suddenness. She thrust the pocketbook towards Fischer, took the transfer from his fingers and tore it into small pieces. "I give in," she said. "This time you have scored. We will talk about the other matter tomorrow." Fischer buttoned up the packet carefully in his breast pocket. His eyes glittered. He turned towards the door. On the threshold he looked around. He stretched out his hand towards Pamela. "Believe me, you have done well," he assured her hoarsely. "I shall keep my word. I will set you in the path of great things." He left the room, and they heard the furious ringing of the lift bell. Pamela was tearing into smaller pieces the forged transfer. Van Teyl, a little pale, but with new life in his frame, was watching the fragments upon the floor. There was a tap at the door. Nikasti entered. Pamela's fingers paused in their task. Van Teyl stared at him. The newcomer was carrying the evening papers, which he laid down upon the table. "Is there anything more I can do before I go to bed, sir?" he asked, with his usual reverential little bow. "Aren't you hurt?" Van Teyl exclaimed. "Hurt?" Nikasti replied wonderingly. "Oh, no!" "Weren't you knocked down by a taxicab," Pamela asked, "outside the hotel?" Nikasti looked from one to the other with an air of gentle surprise. "I have been to my rooms in the servants' quarters," he told them, "on the upper floor. I have not been downstairs at all. I have been unpacking and arranging my own humble belongings." Van Teyl clasped his forehead. "Let me get this!" he exclaimed. "You haven't been down in the lobby of the hotel, you haven't been knocked down by a taxicab that skidded, you haven't lost a pocketbook which you had previously stolen from my sister?" Nikasti shook his head. He seemed completely mystified. He watched Pamela's face carefully. "Perhaps there has been some mistake," he suggested quietly. "My English is sometimes not very good. I would not dream of trying to rob the young lady. I have not lost any pocketbook. I have not descended lower down in the hotel than this floor." Van Teyl waved him away, accepted his farewell salutation, and waited until the door was closed. "Look here, Pamela," he protested, turning almost appealingly towards her, "my brain wasn't made for this sort of thing. What in thunder does it all mean?" Pamela looked at the fragments of paper upon the floor and sank back in an easy chair. "Jimmy," she confided, "I don't know." CHAPTER XV Pamela opened her eyes the next morning upon a distinctly pleasing sight. At the foot of her bed was an enormous basket of pink carnations. On the counterpane by her side lay a smaller cluster of twelve very beautiful dark red Gloire de Dijon roses. Attached to these latter was a note. "When did these flowers come, Leah?" Pamela asked the maid who was moving about the room. "An hour ago, madam," the girl told her.