e was even, I believe, faint and
hungry. I was not present. My wife talked to her and was sorry for her.
While the two women were there together, your wife fainted. She was put
to bed in our one spare room, and she has been shown every attention and
care. Tell me, how long is it since you were at home?"

"Not for ten days," Dory answered, bitterly. "Why?"

"Because when you go back, you will find your wife there," Peter Ruff
answered. "She has given up the stage. Her one desire is to settle down
and repay you for the trouble she has caused you. You needn't believe me
unless you like. Ask my wife. She is here. She will tell you."

Dory was overcome. He went back to his seat by the window, and he buried
his face for a moment in his hands.

"Ruff," he said, "I don't deserve this. I've had bad times lately,
though. Everything has gone against me. I think I have been a bit
careless, with the troubles at home and that."

"Stop!" Peter Ruff insisted. "Now I come to the immediate object of my
visit to you. You have had some bad luck at headquarters. I know of it.
I am going to help you to reinstate yourself brilliantly. With that, let
us shake hands and bury all the soreness that there may be between us."

John Dory stared at his visitor.

"Do you mean this?" he asked.

"I do," answered Peter. "Please do not think that I mean to make any
reflection upon your skill. It is just a chance that I was able to see
what you were not able to see. In an hour's time, you shall restore the
Clenarvon diamonds to Lord Clenarvon. You shall take the reward which
he has just offered, of a thousand pounds. And I promise you that the
manner in which you shall recover the jewels shall be such that you will
be famous for a long time to come."

"You are a wonderful man!" said Dory, hoarsely. "Do you mean, then, that
the jewels were not with those men in the motor-car?"

"Of course not!" Peter Ruff answered. "But come along. The story will
develop."

At half-past ten that morning, a motor-car turned out from the garage
at Clenarvon Court, and made its way down the avenue. In it was a single
passenger--the dark-faced Parisian valet of the Marquis de Sogrange. As
the car left the avenue and struck into the main road, it was hailed by
Peter Ruff and John Dory, who were walking together along the lane.

"Say, my man," Peter Ruff said, addressing the chauffeur, "are you going
to the station?"

"Yes, sir!" the man answered. "I am taking down