not in that way. He is in need of money. Have
you any of your own? Can you let him have, say, five hundred pounds at
once?"

The girl reflected a moment.

"There is my jewellery," she said at last. "He--or you--can raise more
than five hundred on that. Wait a moment."

She left the room, and a smile flitted across the grave face of the
Princess. A few moments later she returned with a little silver casket
in her hands.

"And now," she said, "tell me what happened. Who killed this man
Goldenburg?"

The Princess Petrovska gave a dainty little shrug.

"Mr. Grell shall tell you that in his own fashion," she said. "Listen."

For ten minutes she talked rapidly, now and again writing something on a
slip of paper and showing it to Eileen. The girl nodded in
comprehension, occasionally interjecting a question. At last the
Princess rose.

"You fully understand?" she said.

"I fully understand," echoed Eileen.

CHAPTER XX

Heldon Foyle had been prepared to take any risk rather than allow the
Princess Petrovska to escape him again. There was nothing against her
but suspicion. It was for him to find evidence that might link her with
the crime. It is in such things that the detective of actuality differs
from the detective of fiction. The detective of fiction acts on moral
certainties which would get the detective of real life into bad trouble.
To arrest the Princess was out of the question; even to detain her might
make matters awkward. Yet the superintendent had made up his mind to
afford Wills the butler a sight of her at all costs. If Wills identified
her it would be at least another link in the chain of evidence that was
being forged.

He carried the butler in a taxicab with him to the nearest corner to the
Duke of Burghley's house. A well-groomed man sauntered up to them and
shook hands warmly with Foyle.

"She has not come out yet," he said.

"Good," exclaimed Foyle. "Come on, Wills. You have a good look at this
woman when she does come out, and stoop down and tie your shoe-lace if
she's anything like the woman who visited Robert Grell on the night of
the murder. Be careful now. Don't make any mistakes. If you identify her
you'll probably have to swear to her in court."

"But I never saw her face," complained Wills helplessly. "I told you I
was not certain I'd know her again."

He was palpably nervous and unwilling to play the prominent part that
had been assigned to him. Foyle laughed reassuringl