The Wiles of the Wicked

so as to secure their support in case of anoutbreak, and to pay certain heavy sums as secret-service money. Allthis is imperative in order to save the country from falling into thehands of Russia. But it must be done, of course, in strictest secrecy,His Highness, as I have already explained, hesitated to entrust thematter to his recognised minister here because the spies of Russia areeverywhere, and if any knowledge of his intentions leaked out it wouldbe fatal to his plans."

  "And so he trusts me!" I said, smiling.

  "He does, absolutely."

  "And where does His Highness think that I am going to get half a millionof money from at a moment's notice, pray?" I asked with a smile.

  "With these in your possession there will be no difficulty," sheresponded coolly, indicating the papers. "There is not a financialagent in the City of London who would not be only too delighted to,without its intentions being known."

  "But you say it is all a secret," I observed. "How do you think itpossible that I can raise such a loan without its intentions beingknown?"

  She laughed outright.

  "The money, you will find from the documents here, is ostensibly for theconstruction of a new railway from Philippopolis, by the Shipka toRustchuk. The plans are here, properly prepared, so that you need haveno hesitation in showing them to any railway engineer."

  I saw that she had been trained in a school of clever diplomacy.

  "And you say that security will be given?"

  "Certainly. The proposal is to give the customs receipts. They wouldbe ample. Failing that, it is probable that the Princess's jewels,which, as you know, include some of the finest pearls in Europe, mightbe available. Of the latter, however, I am not sure."

  I remained silent, turning over the papers she had passed across to me.They were mostly in French, and, therefore, easily understood. Thedocuments related to "the long projected scheme of constructing arailway from Philippopolis to Eski Saghra, thence across the Shipka toRasgrad, joining the line already in operation between Varna andRustchuk." Appended were official declarations from the BulgarianMinister of Finance, countersigned by the Prince himself.

  The documents were certainly very ingeniously contrived so as to concealthe real purpose of the loan. I remarked this, and my companion,laughing lightly, said--

  "Deception, to some extent, is always necessary in delicate diplomacy."

  The discovery that the mysterious woman--whose name she had withheldfrom me--was actually a secret agent of the autonomous Principalitycreated by the Berlin Treaty--that turbulent State mostly notable forthe assassination of its Ministers--was entirely unlooked for. On thenight when accident had thrown us together, and she had smoothed my browwith her cool hand, I had believed her to be a young girl who had takenpity upon me in my helplessness; but the revelations she had made duringthat half-hour showed that there had been some firm purpose underlyingit all.

  She alone knew the truth of that tragic occurrence at The Boltons, and Isaw that in this matter I had to deal with a very clever and ingeniouswoman.

  I had now a double purpose in life--to discover Mabel, and to elucidatethe mystery of the crime. Towards that end I intended to strive, and asI sat with my glance fixed upon those mysterious grey eyes, Iendeavoured to form some plan of action.

  "Madam," I said gravely, at last, "as you appear not to place sufficientconfidence in me to tell me your name, I regret that I can place noconfidence in these documents."

  "My name!" she laughed. "Ah, of course; I had quite forgotten. Thereis no secret about it;" and from her purse she drew forth a folded,much-worn blue paper, which she handed to me.

  It was an English passport, bearing the name of "Lucy Edna Grainger."

  "Grainger?" I repeated. "Then you are English?"

  "Yes, I am legally a British subject, because my father was English. Iwas, however, born abroad."

  A silence fell between us. The roar of the traffic in Piccadilly cameup from below; the summer night was warm, and the window stood open. Atlast I determined upon a bold course.

  "Now that we have met," I said, "I wish to ask you one or two questions.First, I am desirous of knowing the whereabouts of Mrs Anson and herdaughter."

  I was watching her narrowly, and saw her give a distinct start at mymention of the same. Next instant, however, she recovered herself, andwith marvellous tact repeated--

  "Anson? Anson? I have no acquaintance with any person of that name."

  I smiled.

  "I think it unnecessary that you should deny this, when the truth is sovery plain," I observed sarcastically. "You will, perhaps, next denythat a young man was foully murdered within that house in The Boltons;that you were present, and that you are aware of the identity of thosewho committed the crime?"

  The pallor of her cheeks showed plainly that I had recalled unwelcomememories.

  "The unfortunate affair is all of the past," she said hoarsely. "Whyneed we discuss it?"

  "In the interests of justice," I answered, with firm determination.

  "Have you not agreed to remain silent? Have you not, as recompense,received back your sight, and become enriched beyond your wildestdreams? Surely you, at least, should not complain."

  "I complain of the manner in which the secret of the crime has beenpreserved," I said. "I have determined, however, that it shall remainsecret no longer."

  "You would inform the police!" she gasped, for the moment unable toconceal her alarm.

  "If you have no knowledge of Mrs Anson, then I intend to invoke the aidof Scotland Yard in order to discover her."

  My words perplexed her. That she was acquainted with the Ansons I hadno doubt, and I was likewise certain that she would never riskinformation being given to the police. More than once in the days longpast I had entertained a shrewd suspicion that she herself was theactual murderer of that young unknown man. I looked at her pale face,and vaguely wondered again whether such were the truth.

  The fact that she had secured my silence in return for my life as anoutcome of that most ingenious conspiracy had seemed to me proofconclusive of her guilt, and now that we had met in those strangecircumstances the idea became impressed upon me more forcibly than ever.

  What might be her real position in the secret diplomacy of Bulgaria Iknew not. It was evident that considerable confidence was reposed inher. She had come to me with a cool demand to raise a loan of half amillion sterling, and it was plain from what she had explained that themoney was urgently needed for the protection of the State againstenemies both internal and external. My own position was unique. Hadnot Gedge shown me those official documents, which gave me concessionsin the Principality of Bulgaria, I should have laughed this woman'scurious story to scorn as a piece of impossible fiction. But I hadglanced over some of those papers at Denbury, and was satisfied that Ihad actually had many dealings with that State during the six years ofmy unconscious but prosperous existence. There seemed every truth inher statement that to her had been due my success in the City in thefirst instance.

  "And supposing you broke your promise and went to Scotland Yard?" shesuggested at length, her eyes still fixed upon me. "What would youexpect to find?"

  "To find?" I echoed. "I should find traces of the crime within thatroom."

  She nodded. I had expected my words to have some confusing effect uponher, nevertheless, on the contrary, she remained perfectly calm. Herself-control was extraordinary.

  "And what would it profit you, pray?" she asked.

  "I should at least know that I had endeavoured to bring to justice thoseresponsible for the poor fellow's death."

  "It would only be an endeavour--a vain one, I assure you."

  "You mean that the secret is too well concealed ever to be revealed," Iobserved quickly.

  "Yes," she said; "you have guessed aright."

  "And, in other words, you defy me to discover the truth?"

  "I have not said so. The word defy is scarcely one which should be usedbetween us, I think, considerin
g that our interests are to-day mutual--just as they were on the night of the crime."

  "I fail to see that," I answered. "I have no interest whatever inkeeping this terrible secret hidden, for while I do so I am acting thepart of accessory."

  "But surely you have an interest in preserving your own life?" sheurged.

  "Then you imply that if I were to lay information at Scotland Yard Ishould be in peril of my life?" I asked, looking straight into thosecalm eyes that ever and anon seemed full of mystery.

  "Of that I cannot speak with any degree of certainty," she responded."I would only warn you that in this matter continued silence is by farthe best."

  "But you have uttered