“I’m afraid your wife thought me very unsympathetic this morning,” said he. “But I had to guard against the chance of any betrayal of my plans. As a matter of fact, I had no sooner heard her story of last night’s pretended arrest of herself than I telephoned to Scotland Yard, and when I made her repeat the tale, she did so in the hearing of one of our cleverest detectives, whose near neighbourhood she never suspected.” “I suppose you had known something before?” suggested Gerard. Mr. Masson smiled. “There’s no harm in letting you know now that a note which was part of the cash given in exchange for one of the forged cheques was traced to--Mr. Candover.” “Then why was I not told? Or at least my wife?” asked Gerard indignantly. “I’ll tell you. Certain facts were discovered which seemed to point to the existence of a strong criminal confederacy, and it was thought wiser to wait and mature plans for seizing the whole of the participators, than, by hastening matters, to run the risk of losing some of our birds. Do you see?” “But it was hard upon me, upon us! You must have found out that I was innocent.” “Well, your uncle was consulted, and the authorities decided to make your illness a pretext for giving you your liberty, reserving the whole truth till a convenient season. In the meantime the police were hard at work in various ways, but it was not till this morning that they were able to get hold of the four principals at once.” “Who are they?” “The chief of the gang, Reynolds or Candover, and the three men who call themselves Diggs, Johnson and Gossett. It was your recognition of Gossett last night, when he came here disguised, not expecting to meet you, and knew that you suspected him, which upset all their plans, I think. At any rate, Candover, who was of course informed of the fact, seems to have made up his mind that the case was desperate, or he would never have attempted to shoot you. And his three accomplices must have made up their minds that the game was up, for they waited for him at his flat, and then came on here, evidently with the idea that he was going to leave them in the lurch.” Gerard was silent for a few moments. Then he said suddenly, in a hoarse voice:-- “My wife! I must tell my wife!” And he was running up the short flight of stairs towards the showroom, when he caught sight of the three pathetic figures, Audrey sitting on a large settee, with one of the girls on each side of her. He stopped short, and turned hesitatingly to his uncle. “Those two poor girls!” whispered he. “Who are they?” asked Lord Clanfield, who had seen the two pretty young creatures, but in the excitement had failed to find out who they were. “His daughters, Candover’s daughters!” The viscount’s kind face softened sympathetically. “Dear, dear! Poor things, poor things!” he muttered in reply. “Something must be done for them! Something must be done!”