coming in pretty soon.
There's a thick grove just across the road, where he may be
hiding...."

He stopped, for a man was hastening toward us, carrying under one arm
a small white bundle.

Simmonds quickened his pace.

"What's that you've got?" he asked.

The man saluted.

"I found it just now, sir, in the bushes near the gate. Looks like a
dress."

Simmonds unrolled it slowly. It was the robe of the White Priest of Siva.

Godfrey looked at it and then at Simmonds, whose face was a study.
Then he took me by the arm and led me away.

"I'm afraid Simmonds has his work cut out for him," he said, when we
were out of earshot. "I thought so from the first. A fellow as clever
as Silva would be certain to keep his line of retreat open. He's far
away by this time."

He walked on thoughtfully, a little smile on his lips.

"I'm not altogether sorry," he continued. "It adds an interest to life
to know that he's running around the world, and that we may encounter
him again some day. He's a remarkable fellow, Lester; one of the most
remarkable I ever met. He comes close to being a genius. I'd give
something to hear the story of his life."

That wish was destined to be gratified, for, three years later, we
heard that story, or a part of it, from Silva's lips, as he lay calmly
smoking a cigarette, looking in the face of death,--and without
flinching. Perhaps, some day, I shall tell that story.

"But, Godfrey," I said, as we turned in at his gate, "all this scheme
of lies--the star, the murder, the finger-prints--what was it all
about? I can't see through it, even yet."

"There are still a few dark places," he agreed; "but the outlines are
pretty clear, aren't they?"

"Not to me--it's all a jumble."

"Suppose we wait till we hear Miss Vaughan's story," he suggested.
"After that, I think, we can reconstruct the whole plot. There's one
foundation-stone that's missing," he added, thoughtfully. "I wonder if
Miss Vaughan uses a blotting-book? It all depends upon that!"

"A blotting-book?" I echoed. "But I don't see...."

He shook himself out of his thoughts with a little laugh.

"Not now, Lester. It's time we were in bed. Look, there's the sun!"
and he led the way into the house. "I'll have you called at nine," he
added, as he bade me good-night at my door.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE MYSTERY CLEARS

Godfrey's powers of recuperation have astonished me more than once,
and never more so than when I found him at the