"Same blood," repeated Dowker musingly. "I wonder if he knows it's the same man? Calliston evidently had a _penchant_ for the family, for there seems to be no doubt that Miss Sarschine and Lady Balscombe were sisters. So he kept one and made love to the other! Queer--deuced queer! Well, I think I had better look up Captain Dicksfall." He finished his wine, and putting on his hat, went out into the cool evening and strolled leisurely along the Leas, first having taken the precaution of putting Dicksfall's address in his pocket. There were a great number of people on the Leas, and that pleasant promenade was crowded with youth, beauty, and fashion. Charming girls in charming dresses, well-dressed men, happy-looking boys, and here and there a shaky-looking invalid, formed the greater part of the assembly, so that Dowker found a good deal of amusement in watching the passers-by. The lift was hard at work lowering people to the beach below or taking them up to the higher level, and the pier was full of gaily-dressed idlers, who looked like pigmies from the heights above. Very pleasant and amusing to an unoccupied man, but Dowker being down on business, and not pleasure, turned away from the pleasant scene and went up past Harvey's statue towards the heart of the new town. He had no difficulty in finding Captain Dicksfall's cottage, which was a comfortable-looking place with a small garden in front. A neat maid-servant admitted him into a dusky passage, and from thence showed him into a small drawing-room, at the end of which, near the window, Captain Dicksfall lay on a sofa, looking out on to the quiet street. A haggard, pale face, worn by suffering, but which had once been handsome. He lay supinely on the sofa in an attitude of utter lassitude, covered by a heavy rug, and his slender white hands were toying with a book which was lying on his lap. He turned fretfully when Dowker entered, and spoke in the querulous voice of an invalid. "What is it, my good man?" he said peevishly. "Why do you come and disturb me at this hour? My doctor has ordered complete rest, and how can I get it if you trouble me?" "Selfish old chap," thought Dowker, but without saying a word he took his seat near the invalid and commenced to talk. "I am sorry to trouble you, sir," he said respectfully, "but I wanted to see you about your daughters." "My daughters!" echoed Captain Dicksfall, angrily. "You are making a mistake, I have only one--Lady Balscombe!" Dowker felt disappointed. Only one daughter! If so, Lena Sarschine could be no relation of Lady Balscombe, and his theory about the possible motive for the committal of the Piccadilly crime would fall to the ground. But then the name, Helena Dicksfall--the portrait of the old gentleman before him. It must be true. "I understood you had two daughters, sir, Lady Balscombe and Miss Helena Dicksfall?" The invalid turned sharply on him. "Who the devil are you to intrude yourself into my private affairs?"