ich the note spoke and which, he did not doubt, were the
dossier of the Bellward case, before she awoke? They might, at
least, throw some light on his relations with the dancer.

"She had her dinner here by the fire," old Martha resumed her
narrative, "and about a quarter past nine comes your second
tellygram, sir, saying as how you could not arrive till five
o'clock in the morning."

Desmond glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. The hands
pointed to a quarter past five! He had lost all count of the time
in his peregrinations of the night.

"I comes in here and tells the young lady as how you wouldn't be
back last night, sir," the old woman continued, "and she says,
'Oh,' she says, 'then, where shall I go?' she says. 'Why don't
you go home, my dear?' says I, 'and pop round and see the master
in the morning,' I says, thinking the pore young lady lives about
here. And then she tells me as how she come all the way from
Lunnon and walked up from the station. As well you know, sir, the
last train up leaves Wentfield Station at five minutes to nine,
and so the pore young lady couldn't get back that night. So here
she had to stop. I got the spare room ready for her and lit a
nice fire and all, but she wouldn't go to bed not until she had
seen you. I do hope as how I've not done wrong, sir. I says to
Mr. Hill, I says..."

Desmond held up his hand to restrain her toothless babble.
Nur-el-Din had stirred and was sitting up, rubbing her eyes. Then
she caught sight of Desmond and scrambled rather unsteadily to
her feet.

"Monsieur Bellward?" she said in French, "oh, how glad I am to
see you!"

"All right, Martha," said Desmond, "see that the spare room is
ready for this lady, and don't go to bed just yet. I shall want
you to take this lady to her room."

The old woman hobbled away, leaving the two alone. As soon as the
door had closed behind her, Nur-el-Din exclaimed:

"You know me; hein!"

Desmond bowed in the most correct Continental manner.

"Who does not know the charming Nur-el-Din?" he replied.

"No!" Nur-el-Din commanded with flashing eyes, "no, not that
name! I am Madame Le Bon, you, understand, a Belgian refugee,
from Termonde!"

Rather taken aback by her imperious manner, Desmond bowed again
but said nothing.

"I received your letter," the dancer resumed, "but I did not
answer it as I did not require your assistance. But now I wish
your help. It is unfortunate that you were absent from home at
the