own room,
obeying that gesture, it dragged its huge bulk over the threshold, and
passed from sight. Then the man she called her brother kissed her again,
and as he descended into the darkness below the trap I heard her say
quite distinctly: 'Tell Marise that I will come as soon as I can; but
not to delay the revel. If I am compelled to forego it to-night, there
shall be a wilder one to-morrow, when Clodoche arrives.'"

"Clodoche? By Jupiter!" Cleek almost jumped as he spoke. "Now I know the
'lay'! No; don't ask me anything yet. Go on with the story, please. What
then, Miss Lorne, what then?"

"Then the man below said something which I could not hear and she
answered in these words: 'No, no; there is no danger. I will guard it
safely, and it shall go into no hands but Clodoche's. He and Count von
Hetzler will be there about midnight to-morrow to complete the deal and
pay over the money. Clodoche will want the fragment, of course, to show
to the count as a proof that it is the right one, as "an earnest" of
what the remainder is worth. And you must bring me that "remainder"
without fail, Gaston--you hear me?--without fail! I shall be there, at
the rendezvous, awaiting you, and the thing must be in our hands when
Von Hetzler comes. The work must be finished to-morrow night, even if
you and Serpice have to throw all caution to the winds and throttle the
old fool.' Then, as if answering a further question, she laughingly
added: 'Oh, get that fear out of your head. I'm not a bat, to be caught
napping. I'll give it to no one but Clodoche, and not even to him until
he gives the secret sign.' And then, Mr. Cleek, as she closed the trap I
heard the man call back to her 'Good-night' and give her a name I had
not heard before. We had always supposed that she had been christened
'Suzanne,' but as that man left he called her----"

"I know before you tell me--'Margot'!" interjected Cleek. "I guessed the
identity of this 'Countess de la Tour' from the moment you spoke of
Clodoche and that secret trap. Her knowledge of those two betrayed her
to me. Clodoche is a renegade Alsatian, a spy in the pay of the German
Government, and an old habitue of 'The Inn of the Twisted Arm,' where
the Queen of the Apaches and her pals hold their frequent revels. I can
guess the remainder of your story now. You carried this news to the
Baron de Carjorac, and he, breaking down, confessed to you that he had
lost something."

"Yes, yes--a dreadful 'someth