their cousin,
decided to come in to Bath and take up their quarters with me at the
big hotel in the town. However, at the end of three days, being
thoroughly rested, and nothing whatever having been heard of Saumarez,
I decided, finally, on account of the sensation I was creating in the
hotel, which was becoming an annoyance, to accept St. Nivel's
invitation to put in a fortnight's shooting with him at his place in
Norfolk. I had the very pleasantest recollections of it, though I had
not been there for two shooting seasons.

"If you behave yourself and are very good," explained Ethel, "perhaps
we may take you to one of the big shoots at Sandringham. Jack is going
to one, and they are always glad to have an extra gun if he happens to
be such a good shot as you are."

I bowed my acknowledgments to my pretty cousin with much mock humility,
but in my heart I felt very proud of the prospective honour. I had
never yet occupied one of those much-coveted places in a royal shooting
party. Besides, I knew that the Sandringham preserves were simply
_chock-full_ of pheasants and were, in fact, simply a sportsman's
elysium.

"You'll be able to put in five days' shooting a week with us, Bill, if
you like," St. Nivel said, "before we go over to Sandringham. My
invitation is for next Thursday week, so you'll be able to get your
hand in."

This gave a much-needed change to my ideas, but before I packed up to
leave Bath I went down and had another look at 190 Monmouth Street.

I rang the bell and a woman opened the door with a baby in her arms.

"I'm the sergeant's wife, please sir," she said in reply to my inquiry.
"We was put in here by Inspector Bull."

"Then nothing has been heard of the old lady?" I asked.

"No, sir," she replied, "nothing. The neighbours hardly knew she was
here, she showed herself so seldom; but the woman that used to come in
and do odd jobs for her says she's been living here ten year."

"Ten years!" I repeated in astonishment. "How on earth did she pass
her time?"

"The woman says, sir, she was always writing, writing all day."

"How was she fed?" I asked anxiously. "I suppose no tradesmen called?"

"No, sir," the sergeant's wife replied, "the woman I am speaking of,
who lives in the country, used to come three times a week and clean up
for her, and each time she would bring her a supply of simple food,
eggs and milk and such-like, to last her till she came again."

I put my hand in my p