ever see her again."

"You give your word on that?"

"I have said it. There is nothing more to tell you. So, adieu. Say to
mademoiselle that I have repented."

She opened the door, and as she did so her eye seemed by chance to
catch a small picture which hung by the side of the hearth. My back
was to the fireplace, and I did not trouble to follow her glance.

"Ah," she murmured reflectively, "he was the most fine stern man ...
and he gave me hundred-franc notes."

Then she was gone. We never saw nor heard of Yvette again.

Out of curiosity, I turned to look at the picture which must have
caught her eye. It was a little photograph, framed in black, and hung
by itself on the wall; in the ordinary way one would scarcely have
noticed it. I went close up to it. My heart gave a jump, and I seemed
to perspire. The photograph was a portrait of the man who, since my
acquaintance with Rosa, had haunted my footsteps--the mysterious and
implacable person whom I had seen first opposite the Devonshire
Mansion, then in the cathedral at Bruges during my vigil by the corpse
of Alresca, then in the train which was wrecked, and finally in the
Channel steamer which came near to sinking. Across the lower part of
it ran the signature, in large, stiff characters, "Clarenceux."

So Lord Clarenceux was not dead, though everyone thought him so. Here
was a mystery more disturbing than anything which had gone before.

CHAPTER XIV

THE VILLA

It seemed to be my duty to tell Rosa, of course with all possible
circumspection, that, despite a general impression to the contrary,
Lord Clarenceux was still alive. His lordship's reasons for effacing
himself, and so completely deceiving his friends and the world, I
naturally could not divine; but I knew that such things had happened
before, and also I gathered that he was a man who would hesitate at no
caprice, however extravagant, once it had suggested itself to him as
expedient for the satisfaction of his singular nature.

A light broke in upon me: Alresca must have been aware that Lord
Clarenceux was alive. That must have been part of Alresca's secret,
but only part. I felt somehow that I was on the verge of some tragical
discovery which might vitally affect not only my own existence, but
that of others.

I saw Rosa on the morning after my interview with Yvette. She was in
perfect health and moderately good spirits, and she invited me to dine
with her that evening. "I will tell her