“Can you tell us,” she said earnestly, “whether it was on Saturday the third of last month, or Saturday the tenth, that you were with us just after luncheon?” He looked surprised. “I don’t remember without looking at my diary. But I’ll find out if you like,” said he. “Because,” she went on, “the bank people are very anxious to know who was at our house that day, when Gerard was carrying the cheque-book down to Sir Richmond. If we could say that you were the only person who was in the flat while Gerard was there, it would help.” “I see.” Mr. Candover went over to a writing-table, unlocked a drawer and turned over the leaves of a small diary. “It was on the third,” said he, “that I was with you.” “And it was on the tenth,” said she, “that Gerard took the cheque-book down. Well then, it was Mrs. Webster who was with us. And there was nobody else.” “No, I don’t think poor old Mrs. Webster would be accused by anybody of stealing blank cheques and forging Sir Richmond’s signature,” said Mr. Candover, smiling. “And my dear Mrs. Angmering, do calm your fears. Your husband is no more likely to be seriously suspected of such a thing than I or Mrs. Webster. Depend upon it, in the morning, when he gets to the bank, he will find that poor Sir Richmond has wired again to say he’s solved the mystery. If not, the bank will set a detective to work, and the crime will be traced to its perpetrator. Do, do be persuaded not to pucker up that lovely face into such sad little frowns. Angmering, comfort your wife; don’t let her worry herself. And look here: I’ve got to go to Paris the first thing to-morrow morning. But if you want any help or advice, wire to me at the Hotel Bristol, or get my secretary, Diggs, to do anything you may want done.” They thanked him, rather dolefully, refused again his entreaties that they would dine with him, and went away, trying to feel comforted, but not succeeding very well. And after a weary night of fears and doubts, neither husband nor wife was much surprised when a police-officer arrived at the flat, the first thing in the morning, with a warrant for Gerard’s arrest. CHAPTER II The young man himself was resigned, quiet, dignified. Only the trembling of his lip as he turned to speak to his wife betrayed the terrible strain. Audrey was flushed, bright of eye, strangely composed of manner. “I’m going,” she said in a low voice, “straight to Victoria Street. I’ve been thinking it all over--all night I was thinking--thinking--of what there was to be done--and I know that you will want some one to--to----” “I see. To be bail for me?” “Yes. I’ll go to Mr. Candover.” “But he was going to Paris!” objected Gerard, with a frown. He did not like his wife to go on this errand. “He will have started by this time.” “It’s early yet,” retorted Audrey. “At any rate I must try.”