"I know. But in face of other facts I have learnt, the problem presented is an amazing one." As he spoke a tap came upon the door, and a page-boy handed in a card. "Show the gentleman up," Rivero said in his broken English. "Here is someone who will relate some very strange facts. He is my friend Gonzalez Maura, an advocate who practised in Madrid before his appointment to our Consulate here. I called at the Consulate yesterday and saw him, when he related to me some curious facts which I have asked him to repeat to you. He is here for that purpose." A few moments later the page-boy ushered in a middle-aged, well-dressed, black-bearded man who bowed elegantly when we were introduced. "Now, my dear friend," exclaimed Rivero, when we were all three seated. "Will you please tell Mr. Garfield what you explained to me yesterday." "Certainly. I merely tell you what I know," he replied in very fair English. "It is like this. Before I left Madrid I was very friendly with a country lawyer named Ruiz Serrano, who lived at Valladolid. For some reason the late Count de Chamartin took a great fancy to my friend, and constituted him his legal adviser, an appointment which brought him in quite a large income. To the lawyer of a great financier fees are always rolling in. The Count naturally took Serrano into his confidence and told him how, years ago, he had married the daughter of an Englishman in rather humble circumstances, living in Madrid. A daughter was born to them, but later he divorced his wife, who died soon afterwards, and then he married a lady of the Madrid aristocracy, the present widow. Apparently he made a will leaving the whole of his fortune to his daughter by his first wife--save for a small annuity to his second wife--and according to the will, on the death of his daughter the fortune was to go to his trusted partner, your English financier, Mr. Oswald De Gex." I sat staring at the stranger, but uttered no word, for I was reflecting deeply. "Señor Serrano arrived in London a week ago, and came to consult me regarding the will, because it seems that the Count's daughter--who came here to learn English, she having lived in Madrid all her life--is dead." "Hence De Gex has inherited the Count's fortune?" I gasped. "What was the girl's name?" "Her name was, of course, Chamartin, but in obedience to her father's wish, after the divorce she took her mother's maiden name, and was known as Gabrielle Engledue." "Gabrielle Engledue!" I echoed. "_Gabrielle Engledue!_" CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH LOVE THE CONQUEROR The sudden revelation of the motive of the crime at Stretton Street staggered me.