d not take me very long to ascertain, beyond the shadow of
a doubt, that he was not upon the premises, nor had he yet been seen
by any one connected with the place. I even walked to the corner of
the courtyard and looked aimlessly up and down the Strand. Within
those few hundred yards which lay between where I was standing and
Charing Cross something had happened which had prevented his reaching
the hotel. It may have been the slightest of accidents. It might be
something more serious. Or it might even be, I was forced to reflect,
that he had never intended coming! Presently I returned to the suite
of rooms upon the fifth floor to make my report to Miss Delora. I
found her calmer than I had expected, but her face fell when I was
forced to confess that I had heard no news.

"I am sorry," I said, "but there is no doubt that up to the present,
at any rate, your uncle has not been here. I am quite sure, though," I
added, "that there is no cause for alarm. A hundred slight accidents
might have happened to detain him for half an hour or so."

She glanced at the clock.

"It is more than that," she said softly.

"Tell me," I asked, "would you like me to communicate with the police?
They are in touch with the hospitals, and if any misfortune has
happened to your uncle--which, after all, is scarcely likely--we
should hear of it directly."

She shook her head vigorously. The idea, for some reason, seemed to
displease her.

"No!" she said. "Why should we appeal to the police? What have they to
do with my uncle? I am quite sure that he would not wish that."

"I presume," I said, "that nothing of this sort has ever happened
before?--I mean that he has not left you without warning?"

"Not under the same circumstances," she admitted. "And yet, he has a
very queer way of absenting himself every now and then."

"For long?" I asked.

"It depends," she answered. "Never for any length of time, though."

"After all," I remarked, "you cannot have seen such a great deal of
him. He lives in South America, does he not, and you have never been
out of France?"

"It is true," she murmured.

"I noticed," I continued thoughtfully, "that he seemed disturbed as we
neared London."

She drew out the pins from her hat, and with a little gesture of
relief threw it upon the table.

"Please sit down for a minute," she said. "I want to think."

She leaned forward upon the couch, her head buried in her hands. I
felt that she desired silenc