answer came.
It told me that Captain Guy Brandreth is now stationed in Washington. He
is alive, and not divorced from his wife. They had a little quarrel, and
she sailed for Europe, to stay three or four months, but there was not
even gossip about a separation when she went away. My friend said that
Captain Brandreth talked often about being anxious for his wife to come
back, and instead of taking advantage of her absence, he no longer
flirted with the lady of whom Mrs. Brandreth had been jealous. Now you
have heard all--and you _see_ all, don't you? I know about the codicil
added to your will. You remember, my husband witnessed it, one day when
Sir James Courtenaye had meant to come over, but could not? Mrs.
Brandreth arranged cleverly. If you had died, as she was sure you would
die before the time when she was expected back, she could easily have
got your money--everything of which you had been possessed. She
waited--always hoping that you might die. But at last she had to give
up. She could stay no longer without fear of what her American husband
might do. If you don't believe, I will show you the cablegrams I have
received. But, in any case, you must read them!" And pulling from her
hand-bag several folded papers, Gaby forced them upon Ralston.

Oh, with what horrible plausibility the story hung together! It fitted
in with everything I had ever guessed, suspected, or known of
Rosemary--except her ethereal sweetness, her seeming love for the man
she had now deserted. Could she have pretended well enough to deceive me
in spite of my suspicions? Above all, would she have offered the blood
from her veins to save Ralston Murray if she had not wanted him to live?

My head buzzed with questions, and no answers were ready. Still I could
see, confusedly, that the terrible imposture Rosemary was accused of
might have been committed by a woman who loved its victim. Meeting him
on shipboard, old feelings might have crept back into her heart. On a
mad impulse she might have agreed to make his last weeks on earth happy.
As for the money, that extra temptation might have appealed to the worst
side of her nature.

When Ralston implored desperately, "Do _you_ believe this of Rosemary?"
I could not speak for a moment. I glanced from his despairing face to
Jim's perplexed one. Almost, I stammered, "I'm afraid I do believe!" But
the look I caught in Gaby's eyes as I turned stopped the words on my
lips.

"No, I _don't_ believe it o