There is over a million. Use it as I have taught
you. Use it to help children to grow into men and women, and men and
women to grow into old men and women. Use it to help human beings
against the cruelties they inflict on each other--and animals against
the cruelties inflicted on them. Promise me that if the worst happens,
you will go on where I leave off."

Tears blinded her. She could not speak.

"Promise," he insisted.

"I will," she sobbed. "I will go on--as long as I can live after you."

He stood still, looking at her fixedly. There was the dawn of an
awakening on his face.

"My God!" he whispered, "I was wrong. I do cling to life. I want to
live. O God, save me!"

And the girl uttered a great sigh of thankfulness, and fell fainting
against the wire partition that stood between them.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF TRANTER

At one o'clock on the following day, Monsieur Dupont sat in his room
waiting for Tranter. At half-past one he had become impatient. At two he
seized the telephone directory, and, a minute later, the instrument. At
two-thirty he obtained his number.

The answer to his first question stiffened him into an attitude of rigid
tensity.

"Mr. Tranter is not in, sir," a voice told him. "He has disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Monsieur Dupont echoed sharply.

"We do not know what has happened to him. He went out last night at nine
o'clock, and has not returned."

"Not returned...." the listener muttered.

"We are getting anxious," the voice went on. "He left orders for his
supper, and there is no doubt that he intended to return. We have
telephoned to the hospitals and the police stations, but nothing has
been heard of him. Do you happen to know where he was going?"

There was a moment's pause. Monsieur Dupont's hands were clenched so
tightly round the instrument that the veins stood out on them like
cords.

"Yes," he said slowly, "I know where he was going."

He rose quickly.

"I will find him," he promised and rang off.

He replaced the instrument, and stood still. For the first time since
his arrival in London fear found a place in the expression of his face.

"_Dieu_," he whispered--"that Crooked House...."

He seized his hat and stick, and hurried out to his car.

* * * * *

Remarkable changes were in progress when he arrived at the Crooked
House. A small army of workmen swarmed over the whole place in a
condition of feverish