r prayer has been answered," he said quietly. "I am here to help
you, Mary."

CHAPTER XVII

The grey lady stood there, with her hands pressed to her heart, her
great pathetic eyes dilated with a curious fear. It was a long time
before she spoke, though it was easy to see that she had penetrated
Berrington's disguise. But then, he had spoken in his natural voice,
which made all the difference. It seemed to him that the grey lady would
have fallen had he not put out his hand and supported her slender frame.

"Wait a bit," Berrington whispered. "Don't try to talk yet. You are
surprised to see me here, Mary. And yet it is natural enough--you must
know that I have been seeking you for years. Why have you carefully
avoided me all this time?"

A little colour crept into the cheeks of the grey lady. Field had drawn
into the background with a feeling that he was not wanted here. Yet he
was not pleased at the unexpected contretemps. The detective had mapped
out a line for himself, and he desired now to bring it to a successful
conclusion. And yet the interruption might not altogether be without its
good results. Field had, of course, already heard a great deal about the
grey lady, and he did not doubt that the pathetic figure standing there
in the doorway was the same person.

"You will not forget to be cautious," he whispered.

The grey lady started. She had not anticipated that anybody else was
there.

"Who is that?" she asked. "And how did you get here?"

"Well, we got into the house by the pantry window," Berrington
explained. He had himself well in hand again by this time. "I am afraid
that we must have some kind of an understanding, Mary. Would you mind,
Inspector?"

Field was understood to say that he had no objection so long as it did
not lead to anything rash. He began to wish that he had half a dozen or
so of his most trusted men with him. Meanwhile his hands were tied and
he could do no more than wait developments. He had naturally a keen
desire to know what was going on behind the closed door of the
dining-room, but on that score he would have to possess his soul in
patience for the time. He had the comfortable assurance that he could
bag his birds, one by one, later on.

"Don't go out of earshot and don't betray yourself, sir," he said.
Berrington gave the desired assurances and he and his companion passed
quietly across the hall to a morning room beyond. This was at the back
of the house, with a