"A gentleman in Notting 'Ill," was the urchin's prompt reply. "I don't know 'im. 'E only said that a lady in a big black 'at, and dressed all in black and carryin' a bag, would be waitin' for me, and that I were to give the note to 'er." "Is that all you know, my good lad?" Mason inquired quickly, giving him another shilling. "Yus. That's all I knows, sir," he replied. While speaking, the detective had kept his eye upon the booking-hall, and swiftly returned to it, only, however, to find that the woman was not there. The descending lift was full, the lattice gates were closed and it had just started down when he peered within. In the lift was Mrs Saxton, who, with a smile of triumph, disappeared from his view. Mason, in a sorry and chastened frame of mind, took the next lift, which, as always happens under such circumstances, was unusually long in arriving. To him, it seemed an eternity. He got down to the platform, in time to see the tail of a departing train. Mrs Saxton had not waited in the booking-hall in vain. She had two minutes' start of him, and he might hunt London over before he would again find her. Only one thing was certain: Mrs Saxton was certainly a very clever woman, who, no doubt, had prepared that very clever ruse of the arrival of the letter, well-knowing that the messenger must draw off the detective's attention, and thus give her time to slip away. That same evening James Farloe, who had been chatting in the Lobby of the House of Commons with a couple of Members of the Opposition, was suddenly called aside by Sir Archibald Turtrell, Member for North Canterbury, who, in a low, mysterious whisper, asked: "Look here, Farloe, is this rumour true?" "What rumour?" inquired the private secretary, who was a well-known figure about the House, as are those of all secretaries to Ministers of the Crown. "Why, that Mr Monkton is missing, and that he is not at Cannes as the papers say. Everyone is discussing it." The sleek, well-dressed young man in a morning suit with a white slip within his waistcoat, laughed sarcastically, as he replied: "I wonder. Sir Archibald, who it is who spreads such ridiculous rumours. I had a letter from Mr Monkton only this morning from Cannes. That's all I know." "And yet a telegram that I sent to the Beau Site yesterday has been returned to-night undelivered!" For a second Farloe held his breath. Serious inquiry was apparently being made by Members of the House, in spite of all the precautions of the Home Secretary. "Oh," he replied, with well-feigned carelessness. "The Colonial Secretary left the Beau Site over a fortnight ago. People were worrying him, so his doctor sent him to a furnished villa." "What is his address?"