'She said that my plan was absurd, and that it was all-important that the actual state of things should be kept from Mrs. Claxton for some time longer.' 'She was right in both instances,' said Humphrey Statham, nodding. 'But how did she propose to do it? I confess I don't see my way.' 'How she has done it you will perceive by this letter, which I have just received.' Martin handed Pauline's letter to his friend, and watched him keenly as he perused it. Humphrey Statham read the document through with great attention. Only twice he showed symptoms of astonishment--once by his uplifted eyebrows, once by a low but prolonged whistle. When he had finished reading the letter, he still retained it in his hand. 'She is a clever woman, by Jove!' he said, 'and a thoroughly unscrupulous one; this letter shows that. I don't like this sleeping-draught business; that is a remarkably awkward feature in the case, though it seems to be going on all well, and it certainly is giving us the time we required. When this poor girl wakes, you and I must both of us be present to tell her plainly the truth; you in your clerical capacity, and I--well--in my worldly capacity, I suppose. "Very beautiful," eh?' he said, referring to the letter. 'She is very beautiful. A soft, touching kind of beauty which appeals to me more than any other. And the child,' he continued, again glancing at the letter. 'You remarked that I took special interest in this matter, Gurwood! You would scarcely fancy now that that child is the link between me and the Claxton mystery!' 'The child!' cried Martin Gurwood. 'How is that?' 'I will tell you the story some day,' said Statham, looking moodily into the fire. 'Depend upon it, my friend, not every woman who is betrayed is so mercifully deceived as this poor creature has been!' CHAPTER IX. THE SMALL HOURS IN LONDON. Martin Gurwood and Humphrey Statham dined together that day at a club, of which the latter was a member, and sat together until late in the night, discussing memories of old times and the strange occurrences of recent days. When Martin returned to Great Walpole-street, he was surprised to learn from the servant who let him in, that Mrs. Calverley had not retired to rest, and that she desired to speak with him when he came in. A guilty pang shot through Martin's breast as he listened. What could be the meaning of this? Could his mother have discovered the secret of the Hendon mystery, and was she waiting to objurgate him for the part which he had taken in concealing it from her? Martin knew that, some day or other, such a contingency would arise, but he hoped that when it did he would have Statham by his side. He looked to Statham now for advice and assistance in every phase which the matter could assume, and dreaded being left to his own resources.