rave danger, and you
can help him."

The girl's hands dropped to her side, and she regarded her visitor
helplessly. A new hope was beginning to steal into her heart, but her
reason was all on the other side.

"He is dead," she protested faintly. "Fairfield killed him. Why should
he hide if he is not dead? Why should he not come here himself? Why
should he send you?"

"Don't be a fool," retorted the other impatiently, and the impertinence
of the words had the effect intended of bracing the half-fainting girl.
"He does not come because to do so would be madness--because if he
showed himself he would be at once arrested by Scotland Yard detectives.
They believe him to be the murderer of his double--a man named
Goldenburg. There is a note he gave me for you."

The letters danced before Eileen's eyes as she tore open the thin
envelope and held what was undoubtedly Robert Grell's writing in her
shaking hand. She was startled as never before in her life save when she
heard of the murder. Slowly she read, the words biting into her brain--

"DEAREST,--Forgive me for not letting you know before that I am
safe. I had no means of communicating with you with safety. The man
who is dead was killed by no wish of mine. Yet I dared not run the
risk of arrest. The bearer of this is an old friend of mine who
will herself be in peril by delivering this. Trust her, and destroy
this. She will tell you how to keep in touch with me."

There was no signature. Mechanically Eileen tore the letter in two and
dropped the fragments on the blazing fire. She felt the dark eyes of the
Princess upon her as she did so. A spasm of jealousy swept across her at
the thought that this woman should have been trusted, should have had
the privilege of helping Grell rather than herself. She strove to push
it aside as unworthy. He was alive. He was alive. The thought was
dominant in her mind. She could have sung for very joy.

"Well?" asked the Princess.

"I don't understand," said Eileen wearily. "He does not explain. There
is nothing clear in the note but that he is alive."

"He dare say no more. We--that is--he's succeeded in evading the police
so far. If by any chance that letter had fallen into their hands, it
would have told them no more than they knew at present."

"Where is he?" demanded Eileen. "I must go to him."

"No, that will never do. You would be followed. I will give any message
for you. You can help, but