"I did not. Julia came to my lodgings that day and told me she was going to be married the next. As a wedding present I gave her the mantle, for which I had no further use. Julia said nothing about meeting anyone. When I heard of her death I was as astonished as anyone. But I shall no longer remain to be insulted here," she cried in a fury. "I shall pack my box and leave at once." "The best thing you can do," said Torry, who was scribbling in his notebook. "But before I go," said Lydia, turning at the door with a venomous look, "I should advise you, Mr. Torry, to ask Donna Maria why she visited her uncle--secretly!" And, spitting out the last word like an angry cat, the fair Lydia, disgraced but impenitent, left the room. "All in good time," remarked Torry, tearing a leaf out of his book. "Will you kindly send a servant with this to the telegraph office, miss?" Donna Maria touched the bell, a servant appeared, and to him Torry delivered the leaf which he had scribbled on. "Send someone with this to the telegraph office at Wraybridge Railway Station?" he said. "If anyone of you can ride a bicycle, make him the messenger. I wish this wire despatched as promptly as possible." When the servant retired Donna Maria asked with some curiosity for details of the important message which was to be sent off in such haste. Torry replied to her prompt and frankly: "It is a message to my friend, Mr. Darrel, miss, telling him to take a detective with him and await Miss Hargone's arrival at Waterloo Station." "What! do you intend to have her arrested?" "Not yet," replied Torry with significance. "I intend to have her watched. The detective will not lose sight of her, so, if she is really concerned in this murder, she will sooner or later betray herself by some indiscreet action. But now, miss," added the detective cheerfully, "You must answer me a few questions." "Certainly," replied Donna Maria with an embarrassed look. "You know I am only too happy to assist you in every way." "H'm!" said Torry doubtfully. "What about Mr. Vass? You met him on that day?" "Yes; in Piccadilly." "Was it by appointment?" "No, by accident." "Did he see your uncle?" "Not that I know of." "Then what was he doing in the West End so far from the bank?" "He casually mentioned that he was executing a commission for Mr. Frederick Leighbourne." "Do you know what the commission was?" "No," replied Maria haughtily, "I do not." "You saw Mr. Grent, I believe?" "Yes; for some ten minutes or so." "On business?" "On private business," said Maria with emphasis. "H'm! Would you mind explaining what that private business was about?" "I mind very much." "You refuse to explain?" "Yes!" said Miss Sandoval. "I refuse--absolutely." CHAPTER XVIII A STRANGE OCCURRENCE