ston saw that the valet, whatever might be his
fault, was loyal to his dead master and to Enid Orlebar. He had not told
how Bellairs had sent to Hill Street that scribbled note, and how the
distressed girl had torn along to Half Moon Street to arrive too late to
speak for the last time with the man she loved. Was Barker an enemy, or
was he a friend?

"That refusal arouses distinct suspicion, eh?"

"Barker has very cleverly concealed some important fact," replied the
keen-faced man who controlled that section of Scotland Yard. "Bellairs,
feeling deadly ill, and knowing that he had fallen a victim to some
enemy, sent Barker out for somebody in whom to confide. The man claimed
that the errand that his master sent him upon was one of confidence."

"And to whom do you think he was sent?"

"To a woman," was Trendall's slow and serious reply. "To the woman who
murdered him!"

"But if she had poisoned him, surely he would not send for her?"
exclaimed Fetherston.

"At the moment he was not aware of the woman's jealousy, or of the subtle
means used to cause his untimely end. He was unsuspicious of that cruel,
deadly hatred lying so deep in the woman's breast. Lady Blanche, on
hearing of the death of her lover, was terribly grieved, and is still
abroad. She, of course, made all sorts of wild allegations, but in none
of them did we find any basis of fact. Yet, curiously enough, her views
were exactly the same as my own--that one of poor Harry's lady friends
had been responsible for his fatal seizure."

"Then, after all the inquiries you instituted, you were really unable to
point to the actual assassin?" asked Fetherston rather more calmly.

"Not exactly unable--unwilling, rather."

"How do you mean unwilling? You were Bellairs' friend!"

"Yes, I was. He was one of the best and most noble fellows who ever wore
the King's uniform, and he died by the treacherous hand of a jealous
woman--a clever woman who had paid Barker to maintain silence."

"But, if the dying man wished to make a statement, he surely would not
have sent for the very person by whose hand he had fallen," Fetherston
protested. "Surely that is not a logical conclusion!"

"Bellairs was not certain that his sudden seizure was not due to
something he had eaten at the club--remember he was not certain that her
hand had administered the fatal drug," replied Trendall. A hard, serious
expression rested upon his face. "He had, no doubt, seen her between the
mome