lank
eyes as though fascinated, or gripped by some invisible power. More
than once I had wondered whether she were under hypnotic influence,
but that theory had been completely negatived by Sir Charles Wendover.

Be that as it may, I had now fallen desperately in love with the girl
whom I was seeking to rescue from her enemies.

Why had the body of Gabrielle Engledue been cremated if not to destroy
all evidence of a crime? Gabrielle Tennison still lived; therefore
another woman must have lost her life by foul means--most probably by
poison--in face of the pains that were taken by Moroni to efface all
trace of the cause of death.

Over our tea the affable French banker told me of a rapid journey to
Liverpool which he had taken a few days before, he having some
pressing business with a man who was on the point of sailing for New
York. The person in question had absconded from Paris owing the bank a
large sum of money, and he had that day cabled to the New York police
asking for his arrest on landing.

"I shall probably be compelled to go across to America and apply for
him to be sent back to Paris," my friend said, "so I am going back for
instructions."

As he spoke I pondered. Was it possible that he was unaware of the
surveillance I had kept upon him during and after his secret interview
with Gabrielle? If so, why had he entered that dingy house in the
Euston Road and made his exit by the back way? I had established the
fact that the house was well-known to thieves of a certain class who
used it in order to escape being followed. Several such houses exist
in London. One is near the Elephant and Castle, another in the Clapham
Road, while there is one in Hammersmith Road, and still another just
off Clarence Terrace at Regent's Park. Such houses serve as
sanctuaries for those escaping from justice. The latter know them, and
as they slip through they pay a toll, well-knowing that the keeper of
the house will deny that they have ever been there.

The "in-and-out" houses of London and their keepers, always sly
crooks, form a particular study in themselves. One pretends to be a
garage, another a private hotel, a third a small greengrocer's, and a
fourth a boot repairer's. All those trades are carried on as "blinds."
The public believe them to be honest businesses, but there is far
more business done in concealing those wanted by the police than in
anything else.

From Suzor's demeanour I felt that he did not suspect m