"I'd like to know what to reply to Mawson's cable," he said. "You really ought to take some notice of such a marvellous stroke of good fortune. His discovery means fabulous wealth for you as holder of the concession." "My dear sir," I said, "for mercy's sake don't bother me about this fellow and his confounded pans. Reply just as you like. You seem to know all about it. I don't--nor do I want to know." "But in a case like this I do not care to act on my own discretion alone," he protested. "They are evidently awaiting a reply in Dawson City." "Let them wait," I said. "I don't want to bother my head over matters in which I can have no possible concern. This alleged matrimonial alliance of mine is of far more importance to me than all the gold in the Klondyke." "Well, the lady is your wife, so why worry further about it?" he said. "And how do you know, pray?" "Because I was present at the ceremony." I looked at him for a moment, unable to utter further words. "I suppose you'll tell me next that you were my secretary in my bachelor days?" I said at last. "Certainly I was." "And you say that you were actually present at the church, and saw me married?" I cried, absolutely incredulous. "I was. You were married at St Andrew's, Wells Street. It was a smart wedding, too, for Mrs Fordyce was very well known in society, and had a large circle of friends." "Fordyce?" I echoed, puzzled. "Yes, that was Mrs Heaton's name before her marriage with you." "Then she was a widow?" I gasped. He nodded in the affirmative. I groaned. The affair grew more puzzling now that he declared himself an actual witness of my matrimonial misfortune. But how could such a thing have taken place without my knowledge? It was impossible. The mystery, like the strange incidents which had preceded this remarkable situation in which I found myself, grew more and more inexplicable each hour.