to confessing her
share of the crime. Whether she had been the principal in the deed, or
an accessory before the fact, Lucian could not determine; but he was
confident that in one way or another she was cognizant of the truth;
although this she would probably conceal, as its revelation would likely
be detrimental to her own safety.

At first Denzil intended to see Diana before visiting Mrs. Vrain, in
order to relate all he had learned, and find out from her if the cloak
really belonged to the widow. But on second thoughts he decided not to
do so.

"I can tell her nothing absolutely certain about the matter," he said to
himself, "as I cannot be sure of anything until I force Mrs. Vrain to
confess. Diana," so he called her in his discourse to himself, "Diana
will probably know nothing about the ownership of the cloak, as it seems
new, and was probably purchased by Lydia during the absence of Diana in
Australia. No, I have the address of Mrs. Vrain, which Diana gave me. It
will be best to call on her, and by displaying the cloak make her
acknowledge her guilt.

"With such evidence she cannot deny that she visited Wrent; and was in
the vicinity of the house wherein her husband was murdered on the very
night the crime was committed. Also she must state Ferruci's reason for
hiding in the back yard, and tell me plainly who Wrent is, and why he
helped the pair of them in their devilish plans. I am doubtful if she
will speak; but altogether the evidence I have collected inculpates her
so strongly that it will be quite sufficient grounds upon which to
obtain a warrant for her arrest. And sooner than risk that, I expect she
will tell as much as she can to exculpate herself--that is, if she is
really innocent. If she is guilty," Lucian shrugged his shoulders, "then
I cannot guess what course she will take."

Mrs. Vrain, with her father to protect her, had established herself in a
small but luxurious house in Mayfair, and was preparing to enjoy
herself during the coming season. Although her husband had met with a
terrible death scarcely six months before, she had already cast off her
heavy mourning, and wore only such millinery indications of sorrow as
suited with her widowed existence.

Ferruci was a constant visitor at the house; but although Lydia was now
free, and wealthy, she by no means seemed ready to marry the Italian.
Perhaps she thought, with her looks and riches, she might gain an
English title, as more valuable tha