"Prove it by telling me the evidence," cried Blake flushing. Darrel was nothing loth. Suppressing the fact that the money had been returned--a fact which Torry did not want known--he told Blake all that Donna Maria had said, and all that Vass had confessed. Roderick listened in silence, but his brow grew black as the story proceeded. When Darrel ended, he said: "So Vass has the money; I hope he'll be punished for stealing it. As to the black-bearded man, I say now, as I said before, that he is Manuel. That Spaniard, and no other, killed those poor wretches." "Do you think, from what I have told you, that Miss Hargone knows who went with Julia to Mortality-lane?" "She might know," said Roderick scowling. "I'll ask her. Darrel, I am not at all satisfied with Lydia. If she played fast and loose with Grent, she will some day do the same with me. She seems to know more of this black business than she should do, and I'll marry no woman who is under such a cloud. I'll ask her to explain all about this Mortality-lane business, and if she can't explain to my satisfaction, I'll give her up." "Indeed, I think you will be wise to do so, Roderick. I don't think she is a good woman. But if she confesses, you must tell me what she says." "I'll come and see you as soon as I get the truth out of her. I hope she is innocent, for I love her, Darrel. But my heart misgives me; God help me, it misgives me slowly." And Blake, quite changed from his usual merry self, walked out of the room with hanging head. Darrel was quite sorry for the poor fellow, but found a morsel of philosophy in his grief. "Ah, well," thought he, "Blake isn't the first man who has been deceived by a woman. It is better to find out a woman's character before marriage than after. I hope he'll escape Lydia Hargone's clutches. She's a snake in the grass, if ever there was one." Two day's afterwards, Torry reappeared in Darrel's room, accompanied by Vass. Both men were very much excited, and laid before Frank a letter. "There," said Torry smoothing out the envelope, "what do you think that is?" "A letter to Mr. Vass," replied Frank, looking at the address. "More than that," cried the secretary in his high, thin voice. "It is a letter from the man who killed Grent and Julia Brawn." CHAPTER XXV THE MEETING IN HYDE PARK Startled by this intelligence, Frank hastily took the open letter which Torry handed to him. It was written, or rather hand-printed, on a small sheet of notepaper, and read as follows: "If G.V. will meet the writer of this letter near the Achilles Statue in Hyde Park at eleven o'clock on Friday night, he will be delivered out of his troubles in connection with the Cleopatra Needle murder. Come alone, and wait for a stranger to ask for a cigarette light." "An anonymous letter," said Darrel, when he finished reading the epistle, "but nothing to show from whom it comes." "It was written by the assassin," cried Vass eagerly. "I am sure of it."