“I have induced him to set off for England, where you will have no difficulty of capturing him. I set a trap for him, and he has walked into it beautifully. Briefly, this is what I did. I told him that at Port Said a middle-aged gentleman and his daughter, accompanied by an officer of the law, came on board the ‘Merry Maid’ with a warrant for the arrest of one Hugh Stavanger, alias Paul Torrens, on a charge of being the principal person implicated in a diamond robbery that had taken place some time ago at Hatton Garden. ‘The young lady,’ I continued, ‘was engaged to be married to a man who has been convicted of the crime, and she has vowed to unearth you and haul you up, if she has to follow you all over the world. She has tracked you from one place to another, and is quite confident of catching you some time. I suggested that you were probably in England again. But neither she nor her father thought this possible.’ ‘Depend upon it,’ Miss Cory said, ‘the scoundrel will never dare come to England again, and it would be folly to look for him there. If he had felt safe there, he would not have come away, that is true.’ I told Stavanger much more than this, all tending to make him believe that, after all, England was the only safe place for him. I enlarged on the wealth at your disposal, and said that you had several detectives trying to find him somewhere abroad. Also that you had found out somehow that he had sailed for Bombay, that you had immediately decided to follow him in one of the mail boats, and that you must have reached Bombay a few days before the ‘Merry Maid’ arrived. I also professed to have no sympathy with you, and remarked that if I could lay my hands on a few diamonds I would only be too glad of the chance. The fellow did not condescend to chum with me at all when I was only a mate. Now he seems to repent his error of judgment; is convinced that I am quite in harmony and sympathy with him; and is ready to swallow any advice that I may offer. Here is the result of my advice and manœuvring. He went back to his hotel with his hat over his eyes, and his light coat huddled about his neck as much as possible, I being kind enough to accompany him. Then he put a few things into his pockets, packed a portmanteau, paid his hotel bill, and went with me to the skipper of a boat leaving for England that tide. He is now a passenger in that boat, which is called the ‘Hornby Cross,’ and is due in London a month from date. Before parting from him, I, partially by wheedling, partially by insistence, got a diamond ring out of him. This ring I will bring home with me, and, should it prove to be a part of the stolen property, you will have proof enough to saddle the robbery on Stavanger, even if he were not walking right into your clutches. This letter will reach you a week before the ‘Hornby Cross’ is due, and will give you time to make the necessary arrangements for capture. The ‘Hornby Cross’ is owned by Messrs.