It was big news, which meant more than at first sight appeared, since the implication was of depths below depths and veils behind veils. To be quite plain, the unexpected flight of the fortune-teller, for it was nothing else, hinted at the truth of Towton's suspicions. Had there been nothing but the mere assault Diabella could have faced that and could have even counted upon the Colonel doing nothing, since an unbiassed witness was lacking. The flight was not caused by the incident which had taken place in the Bond Street rooms, but by the fear that something dangerous might peep out from behind it. And what could this something be--on the grounds of Diabella's story and the Hindoo's attempted strangling--but a dread lest The Spider should be traced? "I am perfectly certain that you are right, Towton," said Vernon, sitting sideways on the table and swinging his legs. "Only the fear of her connection with that blackmailing scoundrel being traced could have scared her into disappearance." "She has really gone?" "Really and truly. Remember, she had three days to make herself scarce, but so afraid was she lest you should take action that she decamped on the morning of the second day." "How decamped?" questioned Towton, laying down his pen. "She sent the Hindoo to surrender the lease. Bahadur his name is." "The native who tried to choke me?" "No; the doorkeeper. I was precise to ask if he was lean or stout. The lean one came to surrender the lease." "And his name is Bahadur. Well, that's something worth knowing. But how did you get your informant to talk, and how did you find any person in authority to explain matters?" "That was easy." Vernon slipped off the table and into a chair. "I called on the plea of wanting my fortune told by Diabella. Instead of Bahadur opening the door a neat little maid-servant made her appearance and informed me that Diabella had retired from the business, which had been taken over by a certain American prophetess. I asked to see the lady, and I did." "You don't think she was Diabella unmasked?" "Not from your description. You told me Diabella was tall; this woman was short, and the voice, instead of being metallic, as you described it, was rather musical, although disfigured by a Yankee twang. This new sorceress, from New York City, as she told me she was, could never have spoken English without the twang." "It might have been assumed."