"Curse him! He shall assist us--by Heaven! I'll--I'll compel him!" cried her mysterious companion furiously. "To talk like that is useless," she responded. "Remember that he knows something." "Something, yes. But what?" "He knows more than we think." "Where is he now?" "Nobody can discover. I saw him once, but he has disappeared. They say he's a wandering lunatic. He left Denbury suddenly after showing signs of madness, and although that terror of a woman, his wife, strove to trace him, she was unsuccessful. His insanity, coupled with the fact that financial ruin overtook him suddenly, apparently preyed upon her mind. She fell ill, and according to a letter I received from Gedge a few days ago, she died suddenly of an aneurism, and was buried last Thursday at Budleigh-Salterton. The announcement of her death was in yesterday's papers." I listened to those words open-mouthed. My wife was dead! Then I was free! With my strained ear close to the thin wood of the door I stood breathless, fearing that they might distinguish the rapid beating of my heart. "Your ingenuity has always been extraordinary, madame," he said reflectively, "but in this last affair you have not shown your usual tact." "In what manner?" "His Highness places confidence in you, yet you sit idly here, and profess yourself unable to assist him." "A warrant is out against you; nevertheless, you still consider the Prince your friend. That is curious!" she remarked, with a touch of sarcasm. "Most certainly. It was Oustromoff's doings. His Highness is powerless to control the Ministry of Police." "And you believe that you will be safe in England?" she inquired dubiously. "I believe so, providing that I exercise care," he responded. "After to-night it is best that we should remain strangers--you understand?" "Of course." "And Mrs Anson and her charge? Are they at a safe distance?" "Yes. When I met Heaton he inquired after them. He particularly wished to discover them, and of course I assisted him." They both laughed in chorus. But her words in themselves were sufficient proof that she feared the result of our re-union. They impressed upon me the truth of my suspicion, namely, that Mabel held the key to the enigma. "What does he know?" asked the man, evidently referring to me. "He is aware of the spot where the affair took place," she answered. "What?" gasped her companion in alarm. "That can't be. He was stone blind, you said!" "Certainly he was. But by some means--how I can't say--he has ascertained at least one fact." "Did he make any remark to you?" "Of course he did. He gave me to understand that he was acquainted with the details of the whole affair." A long silence fell between them. The mention of Mrs Anson and her charge held me breathless. The "charge" referred to was evidently Mabel. I only hoped that from this conversation I might obtain some clue to the whereabouts of my darling.