of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand to my face, and became

a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick.”


“That also I could fathom.”


“Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else could

she do? And into her sitting-room, which was the very room which I suspected.

It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was determined to see which. They

laid me on a couch, I motioned for air, they were compelled to open the window,

and you had your chance.”


“How did that help you?”


“It was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is on fire, her

instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she values most. It is a

perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have more than once taken advantage of

it. In the case of the Darlington Substitution Scandal it was of use to me, and

also in the Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabs at her baby; an

unmarried one reaches for her jewel-box. Now it was clear to me that our lady

of to-day had nothing in the house more precious to her than what we are in

quest of. She would rush to secure it. The alarm of fire was admirably done.

The smoke and shouting were enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded

beautifully. The photograph is in a recess behind a sliding panel just above

the right bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I caught a glimpse of it

as she half drew it out. When I cried out that it was a false alarm, she

replaced it, glanced at the rocket, rushed from the room, and I have not seen

her since. I rose, and, making my excuses, escaped from the house. I hesitated

whether to attempt to secure the photograph at once; but the coachman had come

in, and as he was watching me narrowly, it seemed safer to wait. A little

over-precipitance may ruin all.”


“And now?” I asked.


“Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the King to-morrow,

and with you, if you care to come with us. We will be shown into the