"None. It was not till six days later--about one o'clock in the day, when a constable called and told Mrs. Tennison that a young lady answering the description of her daughter had been found at the roadside, and had been taken to the cottage hospital at Petersfield. We both took the next train from Waterloo, and on arrival at the hospital found the poor girl lying in bed. But so strange was her manner that she was unable to recognize either of us. All she could say were the words 'Red, green and gold!' and she shuddered in horror as though the colours terrified her. These words she constantly repeated--'red, green and gold!'--'red, green and gold!'" "What was the doctor's opinion?" "He was as much puzzled as we were, sir. Apparently my poor young mistress was found early in the morning lying in the hedge on the main Portsmouth Road. Her clothes were wet, for it had rained during the night. Her boots were very muddy, and her clothes in an awful state. She seemed as if she had wandered about for hours. But all she could say to us were the words: 'Red, green and gold.'" "Did not she recognize her mother?" I inquired. "No, sir. She hasn't recognized her--even now!" "Doctors have seen her, I suppose?" "Oh, yes, half a dozen of them--including Doctor Moroni, the great Italian doctor. He took her to Florence for treatment, but it did her no good--none in the least." "How did you know Moroni?" I asked quickly. "I think he became interested in her through one of the doctors to whom Mrs. Tennison took her." "Mrs. Tennison did not know Moroni before this affair?" I inquired. "No, sir. Not to my knowledge. He's a very nice gentleman, and has been awfully kind to Miss Gabrielle," replied Mrs. Alford. "Like all the other doctors he thinks that she has sustained some very severe shock--but of what nature nobody can tell." "What other doctor has seen her?" I asked. "Oh!--well, Sir Charles Wendover, in Cavendish Square, has taken a great interest in her. He has seen her several times, but seems unable to restore her to her normal state of mind." Sir Charles was one of our greatest mental specialists, I knew, and if he had been unable to do anything, then her case must be hopeless. "But Doctor Moroni took her away to Italy," I said. "For what reason?" "He took her to Professor Casuto, of Florence--I think that's the name--but he could do nothing, so she was brought back again." "Now tell me frankly, Mrs. Alford," I said, looking the stout, well-preserved woman full in the face. "Have you ever heard the name of De Gex--a rich gentleman who lives in Stretton Street, just off Park Lane?" "De Gex!" she repeated, her countenance assuming a blank expression. "Yes, I've heard of him. I've read of him in the papers. He's a millionaire, they say." "You have never heard of him in connexion with Miss Tennison? Is she acquainted with him?" "Not to my knowledge. Why do you ask?"