, shaking his head. "A sense of humour is out
of place in a divorce court, and that is where your little romance is
going to end, my friend."

"I am not so sure," said Beale calmly, and the other stared at him.

"You have promised me," he began, with a note of acerbity in his voice.

"And you have advised me," said Beale.

Kitson choked down something which he was going to say, but which he
evidently thought was better left unsaid.

"Wait," he commanded, "I will find out whether Miss Cresswell," he
emphasized the words, "has gone to bed."

He passed through the door to Oliva's sitting-room and was gone a few
minutes. When he came back Beale saw his troubled face, and ran forward
to meet him.

"She's not there," said Kitson.

"Not in her room?"

"Neither in the sitting-room nor the bedroom. I have rung for her maid.
Oh, here you are."

Prim Minnie came through the bedroom door.

"Where is your mistress?"

"I thought she was with you, sir."

"What is this?" said Beale, stooped and picked up a white kid glove.
"She surely hasn't gone out," he said in consternation.

"That's not a lady's glove, sir," said the girl, "that is a
gentleman's."

It was a new glove, and turning it over he saw stamped inside the words:
"Glebler, Rotterdam."

"Has anybody been here?" he asked.

"Not to my knowledge, sir. The young lady told me she did not want me
any more to-night." The girl hesitated. It seemed a veritable betrayal
of her mistress to disclose such a sordid matter as the search for a
pawn ticket.

Beale noticed the hesitation.

"You must tell me everything, and tell me quickly," he said.

"Well, sir," said the maid, "the lady came in to look for something she
brought with her when she came here."

"I remember!" cried Kitson, "she told me she had brought away something
very curious from van Heerden's house and made me guess what it was.
Something interrupted our talk--what was it?"

"Well, sir," said the maid, resigned, "I won't tell you a lie, sir. It
was a pawn ticket."

"A pawn ticket!" cried Kitson and Beale in unison.

"Are you sure?" asked the latter.

"Absolutely sure, sir."

"But she couldn't have brought a pawn ticket from van Heerden's house.
What was it for?"

"I beg your pardon, sir."

"What was on the pawn ticket?" said Kitson impatiently. "What article
had been pledged?"

Again the girl hesitated. To betray her mistress was unpleasant. To
betray herself--as she would if she conf