"She didn't leave one, sir. She said she would be back in a month or six weeks, and would be travelling about from place to place all the time. She told us that any letters could wait till her return." Mason observed her sharply while she gave this information in quite a natural manner. She seemed a simple, innocent kind of girl. Of course, she might be in league with the escaped woman, but he was rather inclined to believe she was telling the truth. Mrs Saxton had begun to find the atmosphere a trifle uncomfortable, and had duped her servants with this story of going abroad, he reasoned with himself. She might give London itself a wide berth, but she was somewhere near where she could be in pretty close touch with her friends. Of that he was certain. Things, therefore, were at a deadlock as concerned Stent and this woman. Meanwhile, young Varney, confident that Farloe was a mysterious and important connecting link, kept a steady watch upon the chambers in Ryder Street. For the first three days his exertions went unrewarded. But on the fourth he followed Farloe in a taxi to the Great Eastern Hotel, in Liverpool Street, where he was joined by a man whom, by his strongly marked aquiline features and piercing eyes, he suspected to be the elusive Stent. When the pair left the hotel, he followed them. It was the luncheon hour, and the city streets were crowded. For full five minutes he kept them in sight, and then he became separated and lost them. On the second occasion he was more fortunate. About three o'clock one afternoon the pair came forth from Farloe's chambers, and together walked leisurely, talking earnestly the while. As far as Victoria Station they went together to the Brighton line. There they parted. The elder man entered the booking-hall of the London and Brighton line, and asked for a ticket to Horsham. Varney did the same. It was a slow train, and half-empty. When Horsham was reached, only three passengers alighted: himself, the man he was watching, and a young woman. He inquired of the ticket-collector if at any place near he could hire a cycle, as he thought of coming down for a week's holiday, and would like to explore the country for an hour or so. The man directed him to a shop close by. He seemed a very civil young fellow, and Varney chatted with him for a few seconds. "By the way," he said, as he moved away. "That gentleman who went out just now--isn't he Mr Emerson, the well-known barrister?" The young man shook his head. "No, sir. Mr Strange has recently come to live here, about five months ago. He's taken Forest View, an old-fashioned house a mile and a half away." "Curious," remarked the amateur detective, in a voice of well-feigned surprise. "Really, how very easily one may be mistaken. I see Mr Emerson three or four times each week, and I could have sworn it was he."