he drew back quickly, saying: "I
beg pardon, sir. I thought you had gone. Will you take anything more,
sir?"

"No, not to-night, Bain," was my reply.

Whereupon the old servant glanced around for the missing glass, and I saw
with heart-sinking that he placed it upon the tray to carry it back to
the servants' quarters.

The link which I had been so careful in preparing was already vanishing
from my gaze, when of a sudden I said:

"I'll change my mind, Bain. I wonder if you have a lemon in the house?"

"I'll go to the kitchen and see if cook has one, sir," replied the old
man, who, placing down the tray, left to do my bidding.

In an instant I sprang forward and seized the empty tumbler, handling it
carefully. Swiftly, I tore a piece off the evening paper, and wrapping it
around the glass, placed it in the pocket of my dinner jacket.

Then, going into the hall, I put on my overcoat and hat, and awaited
Bain's return.

"I shan't want that lemon!" I cried to him as he came up from the lower
regions. "Good-night, Bain!" and a few moments later I was in a taxi
speeding towards Albemarle Street, with the evidence I wanted safe in my
keeping.

That finger-prints remained on the polished surface of the glass I knew
full well--the prints of my beloved's fingers.

But would they turn out to be the same as the fingers which had rested
upon the glass-topped specimen-table in Digby's room?

Opening the door with my latch-key, I dashed upstairs, eager to put my
evidence to the proof by means of the finely-powdered green chalk I had
already secured--the same as that used by the police.

But on the threshold of my chambers Haines met me with a message--a
message which caused me to halt breathless and staggered.

CHAPTER VIII.

CONTAINS FURTHER EVIDENCE.

"Sir Digby Kemsley was here an hour ago, sir. He couldn't wait!" Haines
exclaimed, bringing himself to attention.

"Sir Digby!" I gasped, starting. "Why, in heaven's name, didn't you ring
me up at Mrs. Shand's?" I cried.

"Because he wouldn't allow me, sir. He came to see you in strictest
secrecy, sir. When I opened the door I didn't know him. He's shaved off
his beard and moustache, and was dressed like a clergyman."

"A clergyman!"

"Yes, sir. He looked just like a parson. I wouldn't have known him in the
street."

"An excellent ruse!" I exclaimed. "Of course, Haines, you know
that--well--that the police are looking for him--eh?"

"Perfectly well, b