it said by them as knows that the
jaws of the lion is the very last place any one expects to find them."
Trim did not state what "them" he meant. "If she went back to Rickwell
she would be safe, especially if she laid up in some cottage and called
herself a widder."

"Trim, you've been reading detective novels!"

"Not me, sir; I ain't got no time. But about this going back----"

"We'll go back to-morrow, Trim," said Ware, with sudden resolution. And
Trim joyfully departed to pack.

It just struck Giles that after all Trim might be right, and that having
thrown the police off the scent by going abroad in the yacht, Anne might
return to London. She might be there now, living in some quiet suburb,
while the police were wasting their time corresponding with the French
authorities. Moreover, Ware thought it would be just as well to learn
what Steel was doing. He had charge of the case and might have struck
the trail. In that case Giles wanted to know, for he could then avert
any possible danger from Anne. And finally he reflected that he might
learn something about Anne's friends from the people at the Governesses'
Institute where Mrs. Morley had engaged her. If she returned to London
it was not impossible that she might have gone to hide in the house of
some friend. Any one who knew Anne could be certain that she was not
guilty of the crime she was accused of, and would assuredly aid her to
escape the unjust law. So thought Giles in his ardor; but he quite
forgot that every one was not in love with Anne, and would scarcely help
her unless they were fully convinced of her innocence, and perhaps not
even then. Most people have a holy horror of the law, and are not
anxious to help those in danger of the long arm of justice.

However, Giles reasoned as above and forthwith left Paris for London. He
took up his quarters in the Guelph Hotel, opposite the Park, and began
his search for Anne again. Luckily he had obtained from Mrs. Morley the
number of the Institute, which was in South Kensington, and the day
after his arrival walked there to make inquiries. It was a very forlorn
hope, but Ware saw no other chance of achieving his desire.

The Institute was a tall red-brick house, with green blinds and a prim,
tidy look. He was shown into a prim parlor and interviewed by a prim old
lady, who wore spectacles and had a pencil stuffed in the bosom of her
black gown. However, she was less prim than she looked, and had a
cheerful