"Well, that's my business, and I cannot tell you. But you may rely upon what I say, Sir Karl, and set your mind at rest. I thought you'd like to know this, sir, as, soon as possible." "Thank you," replied Karl. He went back to his guests, his brain busy. Was this true, that Smith said? Who then was Smith that he could get this information? Or, was it that Smith was saying it for a purpose? CHAPTER II. Recognised. The buff-coloured blinds were down before Mr. Burtenshaw's windows in the Euston Road, shutting out the glare of the afternoon sun, and throwing an unwholesome kind of tint over the rooms. In one of them, the front room on the first floor, sat the detective himself. It was indeed a kind of office as well as a sitting-room: papers strewed the table; pigeon holes and shelves, all filled, were ranged along the walls. Mr. Burtenshaw had a complicated case in hand at that period. Some fresh information had just come in by a private letter, and he was giving the best attention of his clear mind to it: his head bent over the table; his hands resting on the papers immediately before him. Apparently he arrived at some conclusion: for he nodded twice and then began to fold the papers together. The servant-maid, with the flaunty cap tilted on her head, entered the room, and said to her master that a gentleman had called and was requesting to see him. "Who is it?" asked Mr. Burtenshaw. "He gave no name, sir. It's the same gentleman who called twice or thrice in one day about a fortnight ago: the last time late at night. He's very nice-looking, sir; might be known for a gentleman a mile off." The detective carried his thoughts back, and remembered. "You can show him up," he said. "Or----stay, Harriet," he suddenly added, as the girl was leaving the room. "Go down first of all and ask the gentleman his name." She went as desired; and came up again fixing her absurd cap on its tottering pinnacle. "The gentleman says, sir, that you don't know him by name, but his solicitors are Messrs. Plunkett and Plunkett." "Ay. Show him up," said Mr. Burtenshaw. "He has a motive for withholding his name," mentally added the detective. The reader need not be told that it was Karl Andinnian who entered. The object of his visit was to get, it possible, some more information respecting Philip Salter. Day by day and week by week, as the days and weeks went on, had served to show Karl Andinnian that his brother's stay at the Maze was growing more full of risk. Karl and Mrs. Grey, conversing on the matter as opportunity occurred, had nearly set it down as a certainty that Smith was no other than Salter. She felt sure of it. Karl nearly so. And he was persuaded that, once Smith's influence could be removed, Adam might get safely away.