He went on to describe his meeting with Joe and the interesting events which had ensued on their arrival at Shadwell station. "I may be prejudiced," he concluded, "but I'm beginning to think that he's an even bigger scoundrel than the police give him credit for. Anyhow, it's perfectly plain that he's been lying to you from start to finish." "But why should he?" objected Nancy. It was Colin's turn to hesitate. "Well, after all, you're rather pretty, you know," he said lamely. Nancy laughed again. "I've no doubt you're right," she said, "but I don't see that it solves the difficulty. He couldn't have known what I was like when he came and hunted me out." "No, that's true," admitted Colin. He got off his seat and paced slowly up and down the room. "There's something behind all this, Nancy," he added; "some infernal mystery that we don't understand." "There is," agreed Nancy; "but I mean to understand it, and very soon, too." Colin stopped. "You're not thinking of keeping that appointment?" She nodded. "Of course I'm going to keep it. If I don't, how can I find out what he wants?" She rose from her chair and came forward to where Colin was standing. "I--I'm awfully grateful for what you've done," she said shyly, "and I can't tell you what a comfort it is to know that I've got someone who's ready to help me." She paused. "All the same," she added, "I'm not in the least frightened of Major Fenton. I've had a lot of practice in looking after myself." CHAPTER SEVEN With an inward sigh of relief Colin opened the door of the surgery, and beckoned to the solitary old woman who was still sitting grimly in the corner of the waiting room. She was the thirty-fourth patient he had interviewed that morning, and the prospect of a well-earned lunch with Nancy was beginning to dangle pleasantly in front of his exhausted spirits. The old woman entered the surgery, and, after placing a bulky string bag upon his consulting table, deposited herself in an armchair alongside. Colin took his own seat and smiled at her encouragingly. "Well, mother," he said, "what's the matter?" The patient folded her hands. "I've bin pizened," she said. "That's wot's the matter with me, young man. I've bin pizened." Colin sat back and nodded gravely. "When did this happen?" he inquired. "Ha!" said the lady, rather bitterly. "That's the very pint I'm comin' to. Are you a pertickler friend o' Doctor Hashton's?" "I am," said Colin. "That's why I'm taking his practice." "In that case," continued the visitor, "I don't mind telling you, young man, that it was 'im as done it." "What, poisoned you?" exclaimed Colin. "Surely not." The lady reached for her bag, and, after fumbling among its contents, produced a half empty bottle of medicine. She handed this to Colin, who examined the label. "Are you Mrs. Jones?" he inquired.