The servant brought back Torry's card, and announced that his mistress was too ill to receive anyone. Thereupon the detective requested permission to see Donna Maria; who also sent back a message that she was not to be seen. On this second refusal Torry lost his smiling demeanour, and at once became the stern officer of justice--sharp-tongued and peremptory. "Tell your mistress," said he to the servant, "that if she will not see me herself, she must permit me to converse with Donna Maria Sandoval. I am a detective from New Scotland-yard, and have been charged to discover, if possible, the assassin of Mr. Grent. In my official character Donna Maria dare not refuse to see me." Apparently this peremptory speech carried weight, for in a few minutes the servant returned and shewed the two men into a small room. Here they waited, and Torry amused himself by admiring the beauty of the apartment, which was luxuriously furnished; and in contemplating the exquisite view from the open French windows which led on to the colonnade. The scene was worthy of his praise. At the foot of the emerald lawn ran the great river flashing diamonds in the strong sunlight. On the further bank were a row of tall poplars, slender and stately in their leafy pride; beyond were smooth green meadows dotted with grazing cattle; lines of rugged hedges, clumps of trees, and occasionally a cluster of red-roofed houses, and the square tower of some village church. It was all very pastoral and peaceful; but Torry's eyes left the scene to gaze upon two people--a man and woman--who were walking to and fro on the gravelled path beside the river. Both were young, both were handsome, and both were deeply engaged in conversation. "Wonder who they are?" speculated Torry "Can't guess who the man is, but I daresay the lady is Donna Maria." "Donna Maria is here," said a sweet voice behind him. Torry and Darrel rose to their feet to behold a beautiful woman in the first blush of girlish beauty. Donna Maria was not very tall, but her figure was perfect; and she walked with the graceful, undulating gait peculiar to Spanish women. Her hair and eyes were as black as midnight; and she had a pale oval, olive-hued face, a charming mouth, and when she smiled, displayed a row of pearly teeth. Her air was haughty and imperious, and she looked at the visitors like a queen whose privacy has been intruded upon. "I am Donna Maria," said she coldly. "May I ask, sir, why you insisted upon seeing me?" She looked at Darrel, who did not respond, so amazed he was by her beauty; so after a glance of disapproval, the lady turned towards Torry, and repeated the question. The detective immediately unwrapped the parcel he carried, and held the hat out towards her. "Is this hat yours?" he asked. Donna Maria looked at it closely, then bowed. "It was mine," she admitted, "but some weeks ago I gave it to my maid." "What was her name?" "Julia Brawn; but you say, 'What was her name?' Why?"