"Because it is a mystery," she replied, regarding me calmly, the strange glint in her penetrating eyes increasing my mistrust. "In what way?" I inquired. I had known Mrs Laing and Ella for over a year, and certainly nothing I had learnt regarding their antecedents had excited my suspicion. The Yorkshire Laings are a county family, and Edward Laing, Ella's father, had been the head of the great shipping firm that has its headquarters in Hull, and is well-known in the North Sea and Atlantic trades. At his death the concern was turned into a company, and Mrs Laing and her daughter had travelled for nearly three years, returning to London shortly before I met them. The statement that Ella's past was mysterious was certainly puzzling, therefore I added, "When you make an allegation, I really think it is only fair that you should substantiate it." She shrugged her shoulders with a foreign mannerism that was charming, exclaiming in her broken English,--"Ah, you understand me not, m'sieur. I speak not your language with politeness. Well, it is, oh, so very difficult?" "Do you tell me that Ella Laing is not what she represents herself to be?" I inquired eagerly. "Ah, no," she answered. "I ask m'sieur if he knows of her past. M'sieur was once good to me, very good. I forget never those who to me are generous." "But your words contain a hidden meaning," I said, dropping into French, hoping thereby to induce her to place my mind at rest. "Yes, I am well aware of that," she answered, with volubility. "You love her; you have offered her marriage--the woman who is your most bitter foe!" "What do you mean? That Ella is my enemy?" I cried, dismayed. Her full, red lips parted in a silvery peal of laughter, displaying an even set of pearly teeth, as, throwing back her handsome head, she exclaimed,-- "Ah! I expected it would cause you pain to learn the truth. Yet, after all, is it not best to know now, instead of hereafter?" "In what way is she my enemy?" I asked, bending forward to her and transfixing her with my eyes. She remained silent, merely giving her shoulders a slight shrug, sighing the while. "A moment ago you told me that because I once performed you a service you intended to render me one in return. Come, tell me the truth," I urged. Again she sighed, but at last said, "The truth has already been forced upon you, I should think." "In what manner?" "By the death of your friend, Dudley Ogle," she replied, in a half whisper, the strange look of almost murderous hatred again showing in her eyes. "Well," I said, "I can see nothing in that tragic incident to lead me to any conclusion that Ella is my enemy." "Love is blind, of course," she answered, rather contemptuously. "Your blindness extends apparently even to the theft of the important dispatch entrusted to your care."