"Do you know if any man called to walk out with her?" "Sir!" cried Maria indignantly. "I do not take sufficient interest in my servants to spy on them." "Beg pardon--beg pardon," said Torry hastily, "Quite right. I should not have asked that question. So Julia Brawn left you?" "Yes; and I gave her that hat when she went away." "Did Mr. Grent take any notice of her while she was in the house?" "Not that I know of," replied Donna Sandoval coldly. "I do not think he was even aware of her existence." "Strange! Yet he met her in Mortality-lane." "You say so," said Maria scornfully. "Oh, it is true! I can prove it. She----" "Don't trouble yourself to explain, sir. If Julia met Mr. Grent, she must have had some motive; but I tell you, he quite overlooked her here. I can think of no reason why a gentleman of my uncle's position should make an appointment with a servant." "About as much reason as he had for disguising himself." Maria sighed and shook her head. "It is a mystery," she declared. "I cannot understand it at all. Do you wish to ask me further questions, sir?" "Yes. Did you visit Mr. Grent's rooms in Duke-street on the day of his death?" The girl bit her lip and clenched her hands. "No," she said coldly. "No." "Humph!" thought Torry. "That is a lie." CHAPTER XII A CHANCE MEETING Although Torry doubted the truth of Donna Maria's answer he was too clever to let his face and tongue betray him. To contradict so high-spirited a woman would be to reduce her to haughty silence; perhaps to send her out of the room, with no chance of resuming the conversation. The detective desired to learn all she knew, while she was in the humour to speak; therefore he held his peace in the face of her doubtful statement. He then recollected that Meek had declared that the lady who had visited the Duke street chambers on that fatal Saturday had worn a peculiar ring--a silver hoop set with three turquoise stones. Incidentally he looked at Maria's hands, and noted with some chagrin that she wore no rings at all. This discovery made him doubt his own perspicuity, and he half-believed that she might have spoken the truth after all. "The last time I saw Mr. Grent," said Maria, seeing that the man did not speak, "was on Friday evening. He dined here, and afterwards said good-bye to his wife and myself, as he intended to leave for Italy on Sunday. A few days afterwards we heard that he was dead." "Who informed you?" "Mr. Leighbourne and Mr. Vass; they came down to break the news as gently as possible to my aunt." "I suppose these two young gentlemen were often here?" said Darrel, with an afterthought that one or both might love the beautiful Creole. "Naturally," she replied coldly. "Especially Mr. Vass, who was secretary to my uncle. His duties brought him often to Wray House." "Miss," said Torry, looking sharply at the lady, "have you any idea who murdered Mr. Grent?" "No!" she exclaimed passionately. "I swear by all the saints I do not know."