"Dear me, how very interesting," said Colville, shifting uneasily on his chair as though it were set round with thorns. "I have heard of such things, but never witnessed any manifestations myself. Miss Lawrence was a charming girl. A pity she should have destroyed herself." "Yes, sir--a most lamentable affair--well, I must be going," said "J. Styles," rising. "You will let me offer you a reward for your trouble in returning my property?" inquired Mr. Colville. "Oh! no, I thank you, sir--but perhaps the housemaid who found it would be glad of a trifle, sir!" Mr. Colville placed a bill in his hand, and the pair separated courteously, the fine gentleman returning to his seat in a tremor of anxiety and trepidation, while the detective took himself to the office of Mr. Lawrence, and after revealing his identity (for his disguise completely deceived that gentleman) he proceeded to detail the interview with Mr. Colville and its result as we have already described it. "I took the liberty of borrowing the name of one of your under-clerks," said he. "I suppose there is no harm done." "None at all, I should say," returned the banker, with a smile. "And here is the reward the gentleman gave me for the housemaid who found the locket," continued the detective, producing the money. "Ah! he was generous," commented the banker, tucking the five-dollar bill into his vest pocket. "Well, and what do you make of all this, Shelton?" "Much, if I could guess at the meaning of it," returned the detective, frankly. "At present I am all at sea, but from this day forward until I get at the truth, Colville will be a shadowed man. I shall be on his track like a bloodhound. His agitation and alarm at learning where his locket had been found meant much, and his lying assertion that he had not been at your house that night meant more. I assure you that Harold Colville was in your house that night and with no good purpose. I will yet give you proofs of my assertion." "You have done well so far," said Mr. Lawrence, approvingly; "I believe you will succeed in ferreting out that mystery, and I will try and bide the time patiently. And now about the man who had the key of my vault the night of my daughter's interment. Have you tracked him yet?" "I have," answered Mr. Shelton, triumphantly. "You have?" cried the banker, eagerly. "His name?" "You remember the physician who was called in to examine your daughter's body the morning she was found dead--the same man who testified at the inquest? The man is one Doctor Pratt, a physician of fair repute in this city and of some skill in his profession." "A physician, Shelton? My God! Then poor Lily's body was stolen for purposes of dissection!" "I do not think so. They would not have run so great a risk to gain so little. No, Mr. Lawrence, I still firmly believe that it was done for the sake of a large ransom."