After I had learned all that Emilia had to tell me, I informed her that I would take a day or two to decide upon my plan of action. In the meantime she was to make no movement whatever, but to keep herself and daughter in absolute privacy. She placed herself entirely in my hands, and promised not to deviate by a hair's-breadth from the instructions I gave her.

"Be sure of that," I said, "and I feel that I shall be able to further your heart's wishes."

On the third day certain ideas had taken some kind of practicable shape, and I determined to set to work. I must mention that I visited Mrs. Middlemore regularly during my deliberations, and had taken the rooms which had been inhabited by M. Felix. She had no news of the slightest importance to communicate to me although she was in the mood to make mountains out of molehills. Nothing further had transpired in the Gerard Street house; no person had called to make inquiries, and she had not been upset by any more false messages. I saw my little friend Sophy also. She was as cheery and sharp as ever, and she informed me that "Aunty was ever so much nicer than she used to be," and I expressed my delight at the good report.

"But I say," remarked Sophy, "ain't yer got nothink to give me to do for yer?"

"Not just yet, Sophy," I replied. "Presently, perhaps."

"The sooner the better," said Sophy. "I likes to be busy."

"You will not go away, Sophy? I may want you at any moment."

"I shall be ready for yer. I'll do anythink for yer, never mind what it is."

I explained to her on my last visit that I should not see her for a week or so, as I was going out of London upon particular business, and that while I was away she was to keep her eyes open. If she happened to see the man who had sent her aunt on a false errand to the Bow Street Police Court she was to follow him secretly and find out where he lived, and upon my return to London she was to tell me everything that had happened. Satisfied with her assurances of obedience I left the grateful little creature, and an hour later was closeted with Emilia. I had not yet informed her of the trick which had been played upon Mrs. Middlemore, and of the disappearance of the revolver; I did so now, and asked if she had any suspicion who the man was.

"No," she replied, "I cannot imagine."

"Describe Dr. Peterssen's appearance to me," I said, "as you last saw him." She did so, and I continued, "It is as I supposed. He is the man who gave Mrs. Middlemore the false message, and got her out of the house to afford him the opportunity of obtaining what he wanted. Money, of course, if he could lay his hand on any, but chiefly papers and documents which might be valuable to him in the future--documents probably connected with your story."

"Why should he wish to obtain possession of such things?" asked Emilia. "They can be of no use to him he dare not appear."

"Publicly he dare not; privately he may. You know of his visit to M. Felix; he does not know of yours. Say that he succeeded in obtaining possession of something which would establish your marriage." Emilia clasped her hands. "He would surely conceive the plan of discovering where you were, and coming to you privately for the purpose of making a bargain for these proofs."

"I would give him anything--everything," exclaimed Emilia.

"That is certain," I said, "and it might be worth while to come to terms with him; but I should not allow him to rob you. M. Felix, so far as we know, did not make a will. Doubtless he has left property of some kind, and should your marriage be proved the property would be yours. Indeed, in that case it would be yours if M. Felix were living and in this room at the present moment."

Emilia shuddered, and looked around timorously.

"Have you any idea what can have become of his body?" she asked in a whisper.

"No; I can form no theory upon that mystery. I would give a great deal to unravel it."

"Is it possible that Dr. Peterssen can have taken it away?"

"It is more than possible, it is probable; but his motive for doing so is as great a mystery as the disappearance of the body without his intervention. A deliberate act of that kind is done with a deliberate motive, and I can think of none which would prompt him to carry into execution a scheme so full of risk. And now listen attentively to what I say. Setting aside the danger attendant upon your nocturnal visit to M. Felix--a danger which I trust will in time entirely disappear--it is of the highest importance to you that you should obtain proof of your marriage with Gerald Paget."

"It is all I desire," said Emilia. "That obtained, I should be content to die."

"It will be better to live, to draw happiness from the union of your daughter and Julian Bordier. My plan is this: That you and I go to your native town, and starting from the house of the maiden ladies who were so good to you on the night of the fire, endeavor to trace the road you took when you flew from the shelter they gave you. You remember the river----"

"I can never, never forget it," said Emilia, "nor the fearful thoughts which seemed to force me toward it."

"There will be little difficulty in ascertaining your route thus far on your journey. From that point we will make inquiries, and it may be that we shall succeed in discovering the road the kind old wagoner took toward his home. That done, all the rest is easy."

"Dear friend," she said, pressing my hand, "how can I thank you?"

"Thank me when success crowns our efforts. Are you ready to take the journey? We will start to-morrow morning."

"But Constance!" she exclaimed. "She cannot go with us. She is ignorant of my sad story."

"Let her remain so. I have provided for her comfort while we are away. I have spoken to my mother--a lady in whom you can place implicit confidence--and she will be glad if your ............