it was his intention to openly tax his
predecessor with having written the anonymous warning, and to ask him
to explain the fact that he should have anticipated so exactly that
which had actually occurred. The Professor was living in a small villa
in Upper Norwood, but we were informed by the servant that he was away
from home. Seeing our disappointment, she asked us if we should like
to see Miss Andreas, and showed us into the modest drawing-room.

I have mentioned incidentally that the Professor's daughter was a very
beautiful girl. She was a blonde, tall and graceful, with a skin of
that delicate tint which the French call "mat," the colour of old
ivory, or of the lighter petals of the sulphur rose. I was shocked,
however, as she entered the room to see how much she had changed in the
last fortnight. Her young face was haggard and her bright eyes heavy
with trouble.

"Father has gone to Scotland," she said. "He seems to be tired, and
has had a good deal to worry him. He only left us yesterday."

"You look a little tired yourself, Miss Andreas," said my friend.

"I have been so anxious about father."

"Can you give me his Scotch address?"

"Yes, he is with his brother, the Rev. David Andreas, 1, Arran Villas,
Ardrossan."

Ward Mortimer made a note of the address, and we left without saying
anything as to the object of our visit. We found ourselves in Belmore
Street in the evening in exactly the same position in which we had been
in the morning. Our only clue was the Professor's letter, and my
friend had made up his mind to start for Ardrossan next day, and to get
to the bottom of the anonymous letter, when a new development came to
alter our plans.

Very early on the following morning I was aroused from my sleep by a
tap upon my bedroom door. It was a messenger with a note from Mortimer.

"Do come round," it said; "the matter is becoming more and more
extraordinary."

When I obeyed his summons I found him pacing excitedly up and down the
central room, while the old soldier who guarded the premises stood with
military stiffness in a corner.

"My dear Jackson," he cried, "I am so delighted that you have come, for
this is a most inexplicable business."

"What has happened, then?"

He waved his hand towards the case which contained the breastplate.

"Look at it," said he.

I did so, and could not restrain a cry of surprise. The setting of the
middle row of precious stones had been profaned in