"No one knew," said Lady Branwin, who was much the calmest of the party. "I managed to keep my secret very well, and you should not have known it now but that I chose to admit the truth. I grew weary of Flora's blackmailing. For years and years she made my life a misery by threatening to tell Sir Joseph the truth. I took my diamonds to her on that night so as to pay a large bribe which she demanded. She said that the amount was not enough. In despair I sprang at her throat when she was threatening to go to Sir Joseph the next day and say to him that Audrey was not his daughter. I knew that Sir Joseph would turn my poor girl into the streets, as he had never loved her. I strangled Flora, and I am glad that I did so." "But I wish to know," began Perry Toat, springing forward, "what--" "You shall know no more. I go to do justice," and before anyone could move Lady Branwin was out of the room. Perry Toat, crying out that she must be arrested, ran out of the office in pursuit. She arrived at the street door to see Lady Branwin disappear into the thick fog. All pursuit proved useless. The woman who had slain Madame Coralie vanished into the dense blackness of the fog, like the ghost she had long been supposed to be. Only there rang in Perry Toat's ears her concluding words: "I go to do justice!" "What does she mean?" cried the detective, helplessly. "What does she mean?" There was no answer, and the fog came down thicker and darker than ever. CHAPTER XXV REVENGE Sir Joseph Branwin and Miss Rosy Pearl duly arrived at Weed-on-the-Sands, and proceeded to the Three Fishers. Here the millionaire, who had quite a Bourbon dislike to be kept waiting, found a note from his daughter, which greatly annoyed him. Mrs. Shawe wrote that with her husband she had gone to town on business--she did not mention what the business was--and would return by the six o'clock train, which was timed to arrive at Weed-on-the-Sands at eight. There was nothing for it but to await the return of the newly-married couple or return to London. "And I have a good mind to do so," fumed Sir Joseph, furiously, tearing up the letter. "How dare Audrey treat me in this way, when I have taken the trouble to come down and see her--the minx!" "I must say," remarked Miss Pearl, with her most virtuous air, "that your daughter shows little consideration for my feelings." "For your feelings?" "Certainly. I came down here only on the understanding that Mrs. Shawe would be present to play the part of my chaperon." "Pooh! Pooh! Audrey is much younger than you are, Rosy." Miss Pearl coloured. "She is a married woman, Sir Joseph, and as such is able by her mere presence to protect my character. And I beg that you will not call me by my Christian name in public. I do not know," went on Miss Pearl, in her heavy, rich voice, "whether it would not be better for me to return to London by the next train." "Nonsense! Nonsense!"