Though the girl pretended to be entirely against receiving any present, yet she realised that possession of such a respectable sum would be able to assist in preparing her new home. After all, it was most generous of Madame. Yes! she had sadly misjudged her, she reflected, after Mrs. Pollen had left. So, adopting her late mistress’s suggestion, she refrained from telling her mother of the unexpected visit. That night she wrote to Galtier, who was staying in a boarding-house in Bloomsbury, telling him that she had heard of the death of Bennett, but not revealing the source of her information. She therefore suggested that he should spend no further time or money on the inquiry, but return at once to his duties at Chantilly. Next day Céline called at the Hôtel Bristol, when mistress and maid went together to the bank in the Boulevard des Italians, and there the girl received the handsome present. After this, she returned much gratified to Melun, while her late mistress left Paris that same night for London. She had cleverly gained the girl’s complete confidence, thereby preventing any further inquiry into the curious circumstances attending the death of Mr. Martin, of Chiswick. *CHAPTER VI* *THE LOCKED ROOM IN HAMMERSMITH* "I’ll go in first, and see if Mr. Boyne is at home," said Marigold Ramsay excitedly to her companion, Gerald Durrant, as they turned into Bridge Place, Hammersmith, about half-past nine one night ten days later. "Yes. If he’s there I won’t come in. We’ll wait till another evening," the young fellow said. "If he’s out, I shall tell auntie that you are here, and ask whether I can bring you in," said the girl, and leaving him idling at the corner, she hurried to the house, and went down the basement steps. What Marigold had told Durrant had aroused his curiosity concerning the occupier of that creeper-covered house, and after much deliberation, he had, after his return from Newcastle, decided to make an investigation. Certainly the exterior of the place presented nothing unusual, for the house was exactly the same as its neighbours, save for the dusty creeper which hung untrimmed around the windows. Yet the fact that the man who lived there disguised himself when he went to a locked attic was certainly mysterious. After a few moments, the girl emerged, and hastening towards him, said eagerly: "It’s all right. Mr. Boyne is not expected home before half-past ten. I’ll introduce you to my aunt, and before she goes to bed—as she always does at ten—I’ll manage to unbolt the basement door. Then we’ll go out, and return without her being any the wiser." "Excellent!" he replied, as they walked to the front door which Marigold had left ajar. In the hall Mrs. Felmore met them fussily. "Very pleased to know you, Mr. Durrant," declared the deaf old lady without, of course, having heard Gerald’s greeting as he shook her hand.