ely she crossed the
room, all the time listening intently, and cast her cloak over the
back of the chair which was placed before the writing-table. Her robe
of white and gold clung to her shapely figure as she bent over the
table and tried three of the keys in the lock of the drawer which
contained Stuart's cheque-book and in which he had recently placed
the mysterious gold ornament. The third key fitted the lock, and Mlle.
Dorian pulled open the drawer. She discovered first the cheque-book
and next a private account-book; then from under the latter she drew
out a foolscap envelope sealed with red wax and bearing, in Stuart's
handwriting, the address:

Lost Property Office,
Metropolitan Police,
New Scotland Yard, S. W. I.

She uttered a subdued exclamation; then, as a spark of light gleamed
within the open drawer, she gazed as if stupefied at the little
ornament which she had suddenly perceived lying near the cheque-book.
She picked it up and stared at it aghast. A moment she hesitated;
then, laying down the fragment of gold and also the long envelope upon
the table, she took up the telephone. Keeping her eyes fixed upon the
closed door of the study, she asked for the number East 89512, and
whilst she waited for the connection continued that nervous watching
and listening. Suddenly she began to speak, in a low voice.

"Yes! ... Miska speaks. Listen! One of the new keys--it fits. I have
the envelope. But, also in the same drawer, I find a part of a broken
gold _'agrab_ (scorpion). Yes, it is broken. It must be they find it,
on him." Her manner grew more and more agitated. "Shall I bring it?
The envelope it is very large. I do not know if----"

From somewhere outside the house came a low, wailing cry--a cry which
Stuart, if he had heard it, must have recognized to be identical with
that which he had heard in the night--but which he had forgotten to
record in his written account.

"Ah!" whispered the girl--"there is the signal! It is the doctor who
returns." She listened eagerly, fearfully, to the voice which spoke
over the wires. "Yes--yes!"

Always glancing toward the door, she put down the instrument, took
up the long envelope and paused for a moment, thinking that she had
heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She exhibited signs of
nervous indecision, tried to thrust the envelope into her little bag
and realized that even folded it would not fit so as to escape
observation. She ran across to the grat