"I may be wrong," said Tait apologetically, "but this is the only conclusion to which I can come. I read the matter this way: Margaret Bezel knows something about your parents, and wishes to reveal it to you, possibly on condition that you pay her a sum of money. Hilliston evidently knows that such is her intention, and wishes to put you on your guard. Hence he asks you to see him before you accept the invitation of the lady." "H'm! This is feasible enough. But what possible communication can this woman be likely to make to me which would involve blackmail. My parents both died when I was four years of age. She can't have any evil to say of them after twenty-five years." "You must question Hilliston as to that," replied Tait, shrugging his shoulders. "I think you ought to see him this afternoon. He knows you are in town. I suppose?" "I wrote from Wellington to tell him that I was returning in the _Kailargatin_," said Claude, glancing at the letter. "He must have been informed by the paper of her arrival yesterday, for this note is dated the same day. To-day is the eleventh." "But surely Hilliston knew you would call as soon as you arrived?" "He might be certain that I would do so within the week, at all events," answered Larcher reflectively. "That is what makes his letter the more puzzling. The matter must be very urgent when he demands an immediate interview." "I am certain he wishes to forestall this lady," said Tait, picking up the letter of Margaret Bezel. "She, at all events, knows nothing of your movements, for the note is dated the 10th of April, when you were in New Zealand." "Humph! It is very odd, Tait." "It is extremely odd, and too important to be neglected. Call on Mr. Hilliston this afternoon, and send him a wire now to make an appointment." "I hope I am not going to have a bad quarter of an hour," observed Claude, as he wrote out the telegram. The mystery of the matter ruffled his usual serenity. "I sincerely trust you are not," replied the other, touching the bell for the waiter; "but I must say I do not like the look of those two epistles." The telegram was duly dispatched, and after a few more conjectures as to the motive of the communications, Larcher went upstairs to luncheon with his friend. Halfway through the meal he was struck with an idea. "Margaret Bezel must be old, Tait." "How do you know?" "If she knows anything of my parents she must have been their friend or servant, and as they died twenty-five years ago she can be no chicken." "True enough! But don't go out and meet your troubles halfway, Claude. It will be time enough to worry should Hilliston give you bad news. By the way, I suppose you'll stay with him to-night?" "No doubt. He has bought a new house in Kensington Gore, and wishes me to have a look at it. I shall be glad to see his wife again. Dear old lady, she has been a second mother to me, and he like a father."