telephones in the Astoria could not accommodate the frantic
people who sought them. Messenger boys in troops appeared. Hundreds of
guests ran upstairs and hundreds of guests ran downstairs. Every
groaning lift, ere long, was bearing its freight of police and pressmen
to the scene of the most astounding mystery that ever had set London
agape.

Soon it was ascertained that the current had been disconnected in some
way from the room where the six magnates had met. But how, otherwise
than through the door, they had been spirited away from a sixth floor
apartment, was a problem that no one appeared competent to tackle; that
they had not made their exit via the door was sufficiently proven by the
expression of stark perplexity which dwelt upon the face of Mr. Aloys.
X. Alden.

Whilst others came and went, scribbling hasty notes in dog-eared
notebooks, he, a human statue of Amaze, gazed at the open window,
continuously and vacantly. Jostled by the crowds of curious and
interested visitors, he stood, the most surprised man in the two
hemispheres.

Short of an airship, he could conceive no device whereby the missing six
could have made their silent departure. He was shaken out of his stupor
by Haredale.

"Pull yourself together, Mr. Alden," cried the latter. "Can't we _do_
something? Here's half Scotland Yard in the place and nobody with an
intelligent proposal to offer."

Mr. Alden shook himself, like a heavy sleeper awakened.

"Where's Miss Oppner?" he jerked.

Haredale started.

"I don't know," was his reply; "but I can go and see."

He forced his way past the knot of people at the door, ignoring
Inspector Sheffield, who sought to detain him. Rapidly he ran through
the rooms composing the suite. In one he met Zoe's maid, wringing her
hands with extravagant emotion.

"Where is your mistress?"

"She has gone out, m'sieur. I cannot tell where. I do not know."

Haredale's heart gave a leap--and seemed to pause.

He ran to the stairs, not waiting for the overworked lift, and down into
the hall.

"Has Miss Oppner gone out?" he demanded of the porter.

"Two minutes ago, sir."

"In her car?"

"No, sir. It was not ready. In a cab."

"Did you hear her directions?"

"No, sir. But the boy will know."

The boy was found.

"Where was Miss Oppner going, boy?" rapped Haredale.

"Eccleston Square, sir," was the prompt reply.

The Marquess of Evershed's. Then his suspicions had not been unfounded.
He saw, in a