t it will be a question for the supreme
judicature whether the private fortune of the late Mr. Farrington will
be seized to satisfy his other creditors."

There was a haze and a babble of talk. Poltavo crossed with quick steps
to the lawyer, and for a moment they were engaged in quick conversation;
then suddenly the adventurer turned and left the room. T. B. had seen
the move and followed with rapid steps. He overtook the Count in the
open doorway of the house.

"A word with you, Count," he said, and they descended the steps together
into the street. "The will was rather a surprise to you?"

Count Poltavo was now all smooth equanimity. You might not have thought
from his smooth face and his smile, and his gentle drawling tone, that
he had been affected by the reading of this strange document.

"It is a surprise, I confess," he said. "I do not understand my friend
Farrington's action in regard to----" he hesitated.

"In regard to Miss Gray," smiled T. B.

Of a sudden the self-control of the man left him, and he turned with a
snarling voice on the detective, but his wrath was not directed toward
the cool man who stood before him.

"The treacherous dog!" he hissed, "to do this--to me. But it shall not
be, it shall not be, I tell you; this woman is more to me than you can
imagine." He struck his breast violently. "Can I speak with you
privately?"

"I thought you might wish to," said T. B.

He lifted his hand and made an almost imperceptible signal, and a
taxicab which had stood on the opposite side of the road, and followed
them slowly as they walked along Brakely Square, suddenly developed
symptoms of activity, and came whirring across the road to the sidewalk.

T. B. opened the door and Poltavo stepped in, the detective following.
There was no need to give any instructions, and without any further
order the cab whirled its way through the West End until it came to the
arched entrance of Scotland Yard, and there the man alighted. By the
time they had reached T. B.'s room, Poltavo had regained something of
his self-possession. He walked up and down the room, his hands thrust
into his pockets, his head sunk upon his breast.

"Now," said T. B., seating himself at his desk, "what would you like to
say?"

"There is much I would like to say," said Poltavo, quietly, "and I am
now considering whether it will be in my interest to tell all at this
moment or whether it would be best that I should maintain my silence
lo