and what you have heard said about him. I have my own opinions--I want
yours."

"Well, my Lord," began Church. "It's not for me to say anything against
his Lordship, but since you ask me I will say that it's generally the
opinion that his Lordship is a bit--soft."

"Do you think he's straight?"

"Yes, my Lord--that is to say--"

"Spit it out," said Jones.

"Well, my Lord, he owes money, that's well known; and I've heard it said
a good deal of money has been lost at cards in his house, but not
through his fault. Indeed, you yourself said something to me to that
effect, my Lord."

"Yes, so I did--But what I want to get at is this. Do you think he's a
man who would do a scoundrelly thing--that's plain?"

"Oh, no, my Lord, he's straight enough. It's the other party."

"Meaning his wife?"

"No, my Lord--her brother, Mr. Julian."

"Ah!"

Church warmed a bit. "He's always about there, lives with them mostly.
You see, my Lord, he has no what you may call status of his own, but he
manages to get known to people through her Ladyship."

"Kind of sucker," said Jones.

Mr. Church assented. The expression was new to him, but it seemed to
apply.

Then Jones dismissed him.

The light was becoming clearer and clearer. Here was another member of
the gang, another instrument of Marcus Mulhausen.

"To-morrow," said Jones to himself, "I will go for these chaps. Voles is
the key to the lot of them, and I have Voles completely under my thumb."

Then he put the matter from his mind for a while, and fell to thinking
of the girl--his wife--Rochester's wife.

The strange thought came to him that she was a widow and did not know
it.

He dined out that night, going to a little restaurant in Soho, and he
returned to bed early, so as to be fresh for the business of the morrow.

He had looked himself up again in "Who's Who," and found that his wife's
name was Teresa. Teresa. The name pleased him vaguely, and now that he
had captured it, it stuck like a burr in his mind. If he could only make
good over the Mulhausen proposition, re-capture that mine, prove
himself--would she, if he told her all--would she--?

He fell asleep murmuring the word Teresa.

CHAPTER XIII

TERESA

He woke up next morning, to find the vision of Teresa, Countess of
Rochester--so he called her--standing by his bedside.

Have you ever for a moment considered the influence of women? Go to a
public meeting composed entirely of men and see w