"No, sir," she said transatlantically, "I saw Mr. Rohscheimer take it from Mary" (Lady Mary Evershed). "I mean to say, Sheila"--Lord Vignoles leant forward in his chair and looked along to his wife--"I mean to say, _I_ had it from Miss Charlotte Hohsmann, on my left." Rohscheimer's protruding eyes looked from face to face. Wonder was written upon every one. "Where the----" Mrs. Rohscheimer coughed. The great financier sat down. Let us conclude his sentence for him: _Where had the ominous "second notice" come from?_ Amid a thrilling silence, the guests sought, each in his or her own fashion, for the solution to this truly amazing conundrum. The order may be seen from a glance at the foregoing list of guests. It has only to be remembered that they were seated around a large oval table and their relative positions become apparent. "It appears to me," said Sir Leopold Jesson, "that the mystery has its root here. Miss Hohsmann is under the impression that I handed the card to her. I did not do so. Miss Hohsmann, as well as myself, has been victimised by this common enemy, so that"--he smiled dryly--"we cannot suspect her, and you cannot suspect me, of complicity. Was there any servant in the room at the time?" A brief inquiry served to show that there had been no servant on that side of the room at the time. "Did you pick it up from the table, dear," cried Mrs. Hohsmann, "or actually take it from--someone's hand?" Amid a tense silence the girl replied: "From--someone's hand!" CHAPTER VI THE SHADOW OF SEVERAC BABLON The mystery of personality is one which eludes research along the most scientific lines. It is a species of animal magnetism as yet unclassified. Personality is not confined to the individual: it clings to his picture, his garments, his writing; it has the persistency of a civet perfume. From this slip of cardboard lying upon Rohscheimer's famous oval table emanated rays--unseen, but cogent. The magnetic words "Severac Bablon" seemed to glow upon the walls, as of old those other words had glowed upon a Babylonian wall. There were those present to whom the line "Who steals my purse steals trash" appealed, as the silliest ever written. And it was at the purses of these that the blow would be struck--_id est_, at the most vital and fonder part of their beings. "That card"--Julius Rohscheimer moistened his lips--"can't have dropped from the ceiling!" But he looked upward as he spoke; and it was evident that he credited Severac Bablon with the powers of an Indian fakir. "It would appear," said Antony Elschild, "that a phantom hand appeared in our midst!" The incident was eerie; a thousand times more so in that it was associated with Severac Bablon. Rohscheimer gave orders that the outer door was on no account to be opened, until the house had been thoroughly searched. He himself headed the search party--whilst Mrs. Rohscheimer remained with the guests.