The woman looked about her as if half expecting to see somebody 'there who had come with evil intent. Jack could not fail to notice the extreme nervousness and agitation of her face. She was no longer quiet and subdued, as he had been accustomed to see her in Panton Square; she seemed as if some force had dragged her there against her will. She advanced towards the table, and, taking up a hat and coat lying there, proceeded to put them on as if she had finished her task whatever it was. If anything had frightened her, it was not, at any rate, the suggestion of burglars, for there was nothing of physical fear to be detected about her.

So far as Jack could discern, his companion appeared to be equally disconcerted. But there would be plenty of time presently to learn what Nostalgo knew about Serena. Events were moving rapidly now, and Jack felt that he would have plenty to tell Rigby later on. They stood aside till Serena had left the house, making sure that the latch was down, and that no one could enter the premises without a key. Jack turned to Nostalgo with an interrogative glance.

"The more we go into this thing," he said, "the more do we find one mystery piled upon another. Do you know that unfortunate lady?"

"If you do not mind, I would much rather you did not press that question," Nostalgo said, coldly. "I am going to help you all I can; I am going to do everything in my power both for your sake and mine; but there are some things which will not bear discussion, and this is one of them."

Jack turned away, feeling just a little hurt and disappointed. He would have found it difficult to say why, but he had taken a strange liking to the man by his side, perhaps because the man was suffering more from terrible misfortune than from his own imprudence.

"We will let it stand over for the present," he said, "but to be more candid than you are, I am greatly interested in that poor woman. I have known her for a long time now, and, as a novelist, I am bound to say that she greatly fascinates me. She always strikes me as a woman who has been tamed--she is so like a performing lion or tiger, if you will permit me the simile."

"I think I know what you mean," Nostalgo said. "The class of animal you speak of paces restlessly about its cage, a picture of moody discontent and more or less physical fear. And then the time comes when all the old savage instincts burst forth, and years of cruel treatment are avenged in the course of a moment."

"And so it would be with Serena," Jack said. "I have seen her cower and tremble before her master; I have seen her hand him a knife in the humblest possible fashion. And then I have seen her hands clench on the handle, and a gleam come into her eyes--on more than one occasion I have half expected to see her lean over and cut her master's throat from ear to ear. After this, perhaps, you may be disposed to say more on the subject?"

"We have never met, we have never been introduced," Nostalgo explained; "but I know who she is and all about her just the same. Do not press me more at present; the secret is not entirely my own. I can only tell you this: it was a great shock to me to meet that unfortunate lady to-night. But perhaps you know who she is?"

"I know perfectly well who she is," Jack said, "though the knowledge has come to me quite recently. Up to a day or two ago I regarded her in the prosaic light of Anstruther's housekeeper. She has always interested me, because she has always seemed to me to be a kind of wild animal who has been cleverly tamed. I have seen her like a tiger ready to spring; I have seen the lurking demon of passion in her eyes, as if she could destroy Anstruther and rejoice in the deed. And then a word from him or a glance, and she has cowered as timidly as the wife of the veriest bully in the world."

"But that isn't telling me who she is," Nostalgo said, impatiently.

"Well, she is Lady Barmouth's sister, to begin with," Jack said. "Now, perhaps, you may be inclined to be more communicative."

Nostalgo shook his head in a sorrowful manner, and proceeded to lead the way up-stairs. It was not lost upon Jack that his companion seemed to know his way about the house just as one would who had lived there for some time. He even seemed to know where to lay his hand upon each electric switch; in fact, his familiarity with the surroundings was apparent to the meanest understanding.

"One more word before we leave the subject," Jack said. "I showed you to-night the man who calls himself Padini. You recognized him as a man whom you had known in Mexico, and you left me to understand that he was as great a scoundrel as Anstruther, only that he lacked the necessary courage to carry his schemes into effect. Would it surprise you to know that this Padini is the husband of the poor woman who has just gone out?"

Nostalgo shook his head with the air of a man who is not hearing anything for the first time. As he had intimated before, the secret was not his own, and he showed no inclination to go into the matter now. He led the way to the first landing, from which the living-rooms branched off. Here was the fine, spacious hall where Jack had found himself on the night he had met Rigby there; the big ferns and palms were still scattered about; the evidences of luxury were plain. Only a rich man could have occupied so fine a suite of apartments. Nostalgo smiled as all these objects of art and luxury met his eye.

"All is not gold that glitters," he said; "in fact, nothing that glitters is gold. All this kind of thing would be calculated to impress any client who came along, but the British public is getting to understand the value of outside show. Let me see--this used to be the drawing-room in the old days, when----

"Nostalgo flicked up the lights, and there, bathed brilliantly by the flashing rays, was a room that would not have disgraced a palace. Carrington was a man of taste and feeling; his pictures were good, and his china would have fetched much money at Christie's. The lights were down again, and Nostalgo walked away in the direction of the dining-room. He might have been some contemptuous servant displaying his master's treasures to the admiring eye of a colleague. Everywhere the foot sank deeply into velvety carpets. Many fine sets of armor graced the corridor. There were one or two pictures of price here, also; a Corot, a dainty little Meissonier, a sketch or two from the brush of same other modern painters. Deeply interested as he was ............