No word was published regarding the mysterious discovery previously made in that house. The police were still hushing up the affair that was so shrouded in mystery, yet at the same time they evidently connected the two curious circumstances, and regarded them as a problem altogether beyond solution. Little, however, did they dream that the missing man's secret hoard had been carried off in its entirety! Next morning, when the waiter brought my coffee, a telegram lay upon the tray. It was from Lucie, despatched the previous day from the Swiss frontier at Chiasso, announcing that she and her father were on their way to Paris and would arrive that night at the Hotel de Grand, which proved to be a modest little place in the Rue de la Michodiere, near the Boulevard des Italiens. Miller was escaping with those thick packets of thousand-franc notes which I had seen him secure, though Lucie was, of course, in entire ignorance of what had occurred. Next morning I anxiously sought her. She came to me in the little salon of the unpretending hotel, a neat figure in her blue serge travelling-dress and smart little toque. Greeting me enthusiastically, she exclaimed:-- "How suddenly you went from Leghorn! I sent down to the Palace Hotel, for I wanted to see you again, but you had gone. I wanted to tell you that I've heard from Ella. The tenant of Wichenford has been recalled suddenly to America, and she and Mr Murray are back there for a little while. I thought you would like to know this." "Know it? Of course I do. I shall leave Paris to-night," I said, glad to have news of my well-beloved. "We also leave to-night. We are on our way back to Studland. Father wired me to meet him in Milan, and I did so. Then he explained that we were going home again, and that we should not return to Italy till the spring." He would probably never return to Italy, I thought, though I said nothing, except to congratulate her upon the prospect of spending a few months in Dorsetshire at the old home she loved so well. At that moment Miller himself entered, surprised to find me there, but shaking my hand warmly said:--"Why, my dear Leaf! who would have thought to find you here? I believed you were in England." "Miss Lucie sent me word that you were passing through Paris," I explained, "so it was my duty to call and pay my compliments." "We've just been on a flying visit to Italy," he said. "I had some rather pressing affairs to attend to in Rome. To-night, however, we go back to Studland." "Mr Leaf is also crossing with us," remarked his daughter. "Oh! excellent!" exclaimed the man whom I had last seen cramming those ill-gotten notes into his pockets, his face flushed with the eager lust for wealth, his voice raised loudly in angry protest against an equal division of the booty. "We'll meet at the Gare du Nord, eh?"