wrote it?"

"He does. Chaldea showed it to him."

"It is in your handwriting?"

"So Mr. Silver declares."

Lambert rubbed the bristles of his three days' beard, and wriggled
uncomfortably in his seat. "I can't gather much from these hints," he
said with the fretful impatience of an invalid. "Give me a detailed
account of this scoundrel's interview with you, and report his exact
words if you can remember them, Agnes."

"I remember them very well. A woman does not forget such insults
easily."

"Damn the beast!" muttered Lambert savagely. "Go on, dear."

Agnes patted his hand to soothe him, and forthwith related all that had
passed between her and the ex-secretary. Lambert frowned once or twice
during the recital, and bit his lip with anger. Weak as he was, he
longed for Silver to be within kicking distance, and it would have fared
badly with the foxy little man had he been in the room at the moment.
When Agnes ended, her lover reflected for a few minutes.

"It's a conspiracy," he declared.

"A conspiracy, Noel?"

"Yes. Chaldea hates you because the fool has chosen to fall in love with
me. The discovery of this letter has placed a weapon in her hand to do
you an injury, and for the sake of money Silver is assisting her. I will
do Chaldea the justice to say that I don't believe she asks a single
penny for the letter. To spite you she would go at once to the police.
But Silver, seeing that there is money in the business, has prevented
her doing so. As to this letter--" He stopped and rubbed his chin again
vexedly.

"It must be a forgery."

"Without doubt, but not of your handwriting, I fancy, in spite of what
this daring blackguard says. He informed you that the letter stated how
you intended to elope with me on that night, and would leave The Manor
by the blue door. Also, on the face of it, it would appear that you had
written the letter to your husband, since otherwise it would not have
been in his possession. You would not have given him such a hint had an
elopement really been arranged."

Agnes frowned. "There was no chance of an elopement being arranged," she
observed rather coldly.

"Of course not. You and I know as much, but I am looking at the matter
from the point of view of the person who wrote the letter. It can't be
your forged handwriting, for Pine would never have believed that you
would put him on the track as it were. No, Agnes. Depend upon it, the
letter was a warning sent by some sympathe