"That is what we wish to find out," said Garth. "You say that Lady Fellenger--whom you will persist in calling Emma Calvert--is dead?" "I saw her lying at the Morgue, sir," declared Robert, passionately. "I saw her placed in her coffin; I saw her buried, and the earth heaped over her. She is dead; I swear that she is dead." "Where is she buried?" "In Pere la Chaise, in Paris." Fanks began twisting his ring. "You say that she destroyed herself," he said; "had you anything to do with her death?" The man broke down, and burst out weeping, exculpating himself between his sobs. "I had nothing to do with her death," he declared, "she was always a good mistress to me, but my master treated her shamefully. When he married her and first came to Paris they were quite happy. But Sir Gregory grew tired of her; he grew tired of everyone; and he began to neglect her for others. She was very proud, and she put up with it for a time. At last she got angry at him, and insisted that he should take her back to London and introduce her to his friends. This he refused to do, and he taunted her with having been in a shop. He called her Emma Calvert even before me." "You are sure that she was his wife?" interrupted Fanks. "I was present at the marriage myself, sir. It took place in a registry office. She was his wife and Lady Fellenger sure enough, but after some months he would not call her by that name. He knew that she was proud," added Robert, in a lower tone, "and I think he wished to drive her to her death." "I always said that he was a bad lot," interposed Garth, in disgust. "He was not a good man, sir, but he was a good master to me. But the end of it all was that one evening they had a terrible quarrel, and in a fit of rage she ran out of the house. I would have followed her, but my master would not let me go. When next I saw her, she was lying dead in the Morgue." "You think that she flung herself into the river?" "I am sure of it, sir. Her body was taken out of the Seine. My master seemed to feel her death terribly, but all the same I think he was relieved that his marriage was at an end. He got it put about in some way that the death was an accident, and the body was buried in Pere la Chaise. After that he made me promise not to tell anyone that he had been married, and we returned to England. That is all I know, except that she has come back to haunt me." Fanks stood biting his fingers. The servant was evidently in earnest, and according to his story the ill-fated wife of the late Sir Gregory was dead and buried; yet, going by the likeness of the portrait to the woman who had vanished, she was alive. Fanks had been engaged in several very difficult cases, but they were all child's play compared to the intricacy of this problem. He was at his wits end, startled, mystified.