tory," he said softly.

"She partially recovered in a few weeks," the doctor went on, "and
before the three months were up her reason, if not actually sound again,
was at least restored. But she was a wreck of a woman. There was
darkness all round her. She heard nothing more of Winslowe. He never
came back to the house. The madness returned when she gave birth to her
child, and she died in an asylum a fortnight afterwards."

A longer pause followed. The recitation of his memories moved the good
old doctor as the actual experience must have moved the young man of
forty years before. He rose, and walked to the window, sniffing the
scent of the flowers with relief.

"She left the care of the child to the nurse who was devoted to her,
with ample funds for its future. When the affairs were settled up, the
nurse took the child away with her, and I have not seen her since."

He made a relieved gesture.

"That is the whole story," he said.

"The nurse," inquired Monsieur Dupont, "what was her name?"

"Masters. Miss Elizabeth Masters."

"Is she still alive?"

"So far as I know she is," the doctor replied. "But I should not have
been likely to have heard of her death, if it had taken place."

"Can you assist me to discover her address?"

"She wrote to me periodically," Doctor Lessing returned. "She was an
excellent nurse, and I got her some cases in town. But it is a long time
since I last heard from her. There may be one or two old letters of hers
in my desk. If you will excuse me for a moment, I will see if I can find
them for you."

He left the room. Monsieur Dupont turned to the window, and gazed
dreamily out into the sunshine.

"And so," he muttered--"in this corner of paradise the Destroyer was
born."

CHAPTER XXI

A HASTY FLIGHT

Doctor Lessing re-entered the room with a letter in his hand.

"The last address I can find," he said, "is 35, De Vere Terrace,
Streatham. That is sixteen years old, but as it tells me that she had
only just moved in, you might find her still there."

Monsieur Dupont made a note of the address.

"There remains only one question," he said, replacing his pocket-book.
"Can you tell me the name of the child?"

The doctor shook his head.

"I'm afraid I can't. The child was christened in the church here, but I
was away at the time, and when I returned Miss Masters had gone to
London."

"It is very important," said Monsieur Dupont. "Perhaps I can discover
it at the c