istaken. Of
that I am positively, absolutely _sure_!"

"Well, let's hope you are, my dear young lady," said Mr. Narkom, in his
practical fashion, getting to his feet at a sign from Cleek, to show
that the interview was over at last. "You are lucky to have the help of
Mr. Deland, I must say. Personally I never thought for an instant that
your case would interest him, but as it _has_, you'll no doubt meet on
the midnight express--eh, Deland?--and travel up together? And now, as I
have a lot of business on hand, I'll wish you a very good morning and
good luck."

"Thank you." She got to her feet and put her gloved hand into his. "You
have been very, very kind. And I hope, too, that you are right
concerning my intuition. But I am afraid not. Thank you so much
for--everything. And you, too, Mr. Deland. Shall I expect you to-night,
then, by the midnight express, or would you prefer to travel alone?"

Cleek bowed.

"Certainly not. I shall be glad of your company, if you will permit me
to travel with you, Miss Duggan," he responded gallantly--feeling,
however that he would have preferred to travel alone, if politeness
permitted him to say so. "There will be a good deal of reading that I
shall have to do, but if you'll pardon that.... To-night, then, by the
midnight express. I shall look for you outside the Third booking-office,
at 11:40. And I shall already have secured two corner seats. Back to the
engine, or not?"

"Back, please," she made answer, giving his hand a grateful squeeze on
parting. "How kind you are! I feel hopeful already! Somehow, you inspire
me with confidence, Mr. Deland. In your hands I know things will not go
amiss. If we can only get there in time----"

She shrugged her shoulders, and let the rest of the sentence go by
default, and then, bowing slightly to each in turn, took her departure,
a graceful, elegant figure, bearing in every line and look the mark of
the noble ancestors of one of Scotland's noblest families.

As the door closed behind her, Cleek wheeled round, and striding over to
Mr. Narkom set a hand upon each of his podgy shoulders, and stood a
moment looking down into his face. Then he gave a short, sharp laugh,
and let his hands drop.

"A dollar to a ducat but there's more in that than meets the eye," he
said, with a lift of the shoulders and a twitch of the lip. "There's a
woman who has sincerity written upon her soul, but hasn't a jot or
tittle of actual evidence to offer us. Your m