"He's been suddenly called abroad, sir," answered the girl; "he left London this morning." "By what train?" "Nine o'clock from Charing Cross." "Do you happen to know a Mr. Kershaw Kirk?" "Yes; he was here last night to see him," replied the girl. "That's the only time I've ever met him." "When do you expect Mr. Merli back?" "Oh, I don't know, sir! He's gone to Italy, I expect; and when he goes there he's generally away for some weeks." "Then he often goes abroad?" "Yes, sir; very often. He has some business, I think, which takes him away travelling, and he leaves this shop in charge of my married sister and myself. He's not married, as I dare say you know." "He's seldom here, then?" I remarked, gratified at all this information. "He lives out at Acton, and only comes here occasionally." "You know his brother, of course?" I asked, after I had purchased some cigarettes. "You mean Mr. Antonio? Oh, yes; he's been here once or twice--for letters he has addressed here." "In another name--eh?" I laughed lightly. "Yes, they're letters in a lady's hand, so perhaps we'd better not be too inquisitive," laughed the girl. And then, after some further conversation, I told her I would call again in a week's time to ascertain if she knew her employer's whereabouts, and, re-entering the car, drove back to Chiswick, my mind clouded by many anxious apprehensions. The outlook was every moment growing darker and more perplexing. CHAPTER TWELVE. A STRANGE STORY UNFOLDED. I confess to having been half-inclined, when I returned home that night, to take Mabel into my confidence. But I hesitated, because I knew that her frankness and sense of justice would lead her to suggest that I should go to New Scotland Yard and lay the whole facts before the Criminal Investigation Department. I had no secrets from her--I loved her far too well. But in this crooked affair I had most foolishly given my word of honour to say nothing. All Kirk's strange declarations and allegations now recurred to me. Hence I was compelled to abandon all idea of making Mabel my confidante. I knew, however, by the way she looked at me, that she was troubled and puzzled by my manner. Indeed, that evening when I returned and found her beside the fire in our cosy sitting-room, her slim fingers busy with some fancy needlework, I recognised by her pointed questions that she regarded me with considerable apprehension. Again she asked me what was the matter, and again I replied evasively that I had just then a good many business worries. And we dropped the subject because Gwen, her younger sister, entered the room. All next day I debated within myself what course I should now adopt, but, alas! I could not decide upon any. The whole affair was such an entire enigma. The more I had tried to probe the mystery, the more utterly inexplicable did it seem.