Thomas Xavier Meredith was a shrewd young man. It was said of himby Signor Paulo Coselli, the eminent criminologist, that he had agift of intuition which was abnormal. Probably the mystery of thetwisted candle was solved by him long before any other person inthe world had the dimmest idea that it was capable of solution.

　　The house in Cadogan Square was still in the hands of the police.

　　To this house and particularly to Kara's bedroom T. X. from timeto time repaired, and reproduced as far as possible the conditionswhich obtained on the night of the murder. He had the samestifling fire, the same locked door. The latch was dropped in itssocket, whilst T. X., with a stop watch in his hand, madeelaborate calculations and acted certain parts which he did notreveal to a soul.

　　Three times, accompanied by Mansus, he went to the house, threetimes went to the death chamber and was alone on one occasion foran hour and a half whilst the patient Mansus waited outside.

　　Three times he emerged looking graver on each occasion, and afterthe third visit he called into consultation John Lexman.

　　Lexman had been spending some time in the country, having deferredhis trip to the United States.

　　"This case puzzles me more and more, John," said T. X., troubledout of his usual boisterous self, "and thank heaven it worriesother people besides me. De Mainau came over from France theother day and brought all his best sleuths, whilst O'Grady of theNew York central office paid a flying visit just to get hold ofthe facts. Not one of them has given me the real solution, thoughthey've all been rather ingenious. Gathercole has vanished and isprobably on his way to some undiscoverable region, and our peoplehave not yet traced the valet.""He should be the easiest for you," said John Lexman,reflectively.

　　"Why Gathercole should go off I can't understand," T. X.

　　continued. "According to the story which was told me by Fisher,his last words to Kara were to the effect that he was expecting acheque or that he had received a cheque. No cheque has beenpresented or drawn and apparently Gathercole has gone off withoutwaiting for any payment. An examination of, Kara's books shownothing against the Gathercole account save the sum of 600 poundswhich was originally advanced, and now to upset all mycalculations, look at this."He took from his pocketbook a newspaper cutting and pushed itacross the table, for they were dining together at the Carlton.

　　John Lexman picked up the slip and read. It was evidently from aNew York paper:

　　"Further news has now come to hand by the Antarctic TradingCompany's steamer, Cyprus, concerning the wreck of the City of theArgentine. It is believed that this ill-fated vessel, whichcalled at South American ports, lost her propellor and driftedsouth out of the track of shipping. This theory is now confirmed.

　　Apparently the ship struck an iceberg on December 23rd andfoundered with all aboard save a few men who were able to launch aboat and who were picked up by the Cyprus. The following is thepassenger list."John Lexman ran down the list until he came upon the name whichwas evidently underlined in ink by T. X. That name was GeorgeGathercole and after it in brackets (Explorer).

　　"If that were true, then, Gathercole could not have come toLondon.""He may have taken another boat," said T. X., "and I cabled to theSteamship Company without any great success. ApparentlyGathercole was an eccentric sort of man and lived in terror ofbeing overcrowded. It was a habit of his to make provisionalbookings by every available steamer. The company can tell me nomore than that he had booked, but whether he shipped on the Cityof the Argentine or not, they do not know.""I can tell you this about Gathercole," said John slowly andthoughtfully, "that he was a man who would not hurt a fly. He wasincapable of killing any man, being constitutionally averse totaking life in any shape. For this reason he never madecollections of butterflies or of bees, and I believe has nevershot an animal in his life. He carried his principles to such anextent that he was a vegetarian - poor old Gathercole!" he said,with the first smile which T. X. had seen on his face since hecame back.

　　"If you want to sympathize with anybody," said T. X. gloomily,"sympathize with me."On the following day T. X. was summoned to the Home Office andwent steeled for a most unholy row. The Home Secretary, a largeand worthy gentleman, given to the making of speeches on everyexcuse, received him, however, with unusual kindness.

　　"I've sent for you, Mr. Meredith," he said, "about thisunfortunate Greek. I've had all his private papers looked intoand translated and in some cases decoded, because as you areprobably aware his diaries and a great deal of his correspondencewere in a code which called for the attention of experts."T. X. had not troubled himself greatly about Kara's private papersbut had handed them over, in accordance with instructions, to theproper authorities.

　　"Of course, Mr. Meredith," the Home Secretary went on, beamingacross his big table, "we expect you to continue your search forthe murderer, but I must confess that your prisoner when yousecure him will have a very excellent case to put to a jury.""That I can well believe, sir," said T. X.

　　"Seldom in my long career at the bar," began the Home Secretary inhis best oratorical manner, "have I examined a record so utterlydiscreditable as that of the deceased man."Here he advanced a few instances which surprised even T. X.

　　"The men was a lunatic," continued the Home Secretary, a vicious,evil man who loved cruelty for cruelty's sake. We have in thisdiary alone sufficient evidence to convict him of three separatemurders, one of which was committed in this country."T. X. looked his astonishment.

　　"You will remember, Mr. Meredith, as I saw in one of your reports,that he had a chauffeur, a Greek named Poropulos."T. X. nodded.

　　"He went to Greece on the day following the shooting ofVassalaro," he said.

　　The Home Secretary shook his head"He was killed on the same night," said the Minister, "and youwill have no difficulty in finding what remains of his body in thedisused house which Kara rented for his own purpose on thePortsmouth Road. That he has killed a number of people in Albaniayou may well suppose. Whole villages have been wiped out toprovide him with a little excitement. The man was a Nero withoutany of Nero's amiable weaknesses. He was obsessed with the ideathat he himself was in danger of assassination, and saw an enemyeven in his trusty servant. Undoubtedly the chauffeur Poropuloswas in touch with several Continental government circles. Youunderstand," said the Minister in conclusion, "that I am tellingyou this, not with the idea of expecting you, to relax yourefforts to find the murderer and clear up the mystery, but inorder that you may know something of the possible motive for thisman's murder."T. X. spent an hour going over the decoded diary and documents andleft the Home Office a little shakily. It was inconceivable,incredible. Kara was a lunatic, but the directing genius was adevil.

　　T. X. had a flat in Whitehall Gardens and thither he repaired tochange for dinner. He was half dressed when the evening paperarrived and he glanced as was his wont first at the news' page andthen at the advertisement column. He looked down the columnmarked "Personal" without expecting to find anything of particularinterest to himself, but saw that which made him drop the paperand fly round the room in a frenzy to complete his toilet.

　　"Tommy X.," ran the brief announcement, "most urgent, Marble Arch8."He had five minutes to get there but it seemed like five hours.

　　He was held up at almost every crossing and though he might haveused his authority to obtain right of way, it was a step which hiscurious sense of honesty prevented him taking. He leapt out ofthe cab before it stopped, thrust the fare into the driver's handsand looked round for the girl. He saw her at last and walkedquickly towards her. As he approached her, she turned about andwith an almost imperceptible beckoning gesture walked away. Hefollowed her along the Bayswater Road and gradually drew level.

　　"I am afraid I have been watched," she said in a low voice. "Willyou call a cab?"He hailed a passing taxi, helped her in and gave at random thefirst place that suggested itself to him, which was Finsbury Park.

　　"I am very worried," she said, "and I don't know anybody who canhelp me except you.""Is it money?" he asked.

　　"Money," she said scornfully, "of course it isn't money. I wantto show you a letter," she said after a while.

　　She took it from her bag and gave it to him and he struck a matchand read it with difficulty.

　　It was written in a studiously uneducated hand.

　　"Dear Miss,"I know who you are. You are wanted by the police but I will notgive you away. Dear Miss. I am very hard up and 20 pounds willbe very useful to me and I shall not trouble you again. DearMiss. Put the money on the window sill of your room. I know yousleep on the ground floor and I will come in and take it. And ifnot - well, I don't want to make any trouble.

　　"Yours truly,"A FRIEND.""When did you get this?" he asked.

　　"This morning," she replied. "I sent the Agony to the paper bytelegram, I knew you would come.""Oh, you did, did you?" he said.

　　Her assurance was very pleasing to him. The faith that her wordsimplied gave him an odd little feeling of comfort and happiness.

　　"I can easily get you out of this," he added; "give me youraddress and when the gentleman comes - ""That is impossible," she replied hurriedly. "Please don't thinkI'm ungrateful, and don't think I'm being silly - you do think I'mbeing silly, don't you!""I have never harboured such an unworthy thought," he saidvirtuously.

　　"Yes, you have," she persisted, "but really I can't tell you whereI am living. I have a very special reason for not doing so. It'snot myself that I'm thinking about, but there's a life involved."This was a somewhat dramatic statement to make and she felt shehad gone too far.

　　"Perhaps I don't mean that," she said, "but there is some one Icare for - " she dropped her voice.

　　"Oh," said T. X. blankly.

　　He came down from his rosy heights into the shadow and darkness ofa sunless valley.

　　"Some one you care for," he repeated after a while.

　　"Yes."There was another long silence, then,"Oh, indeed," said T. X.

　　Again the unbroken interval of quiet and after a while she said ina low voice, "Not that way.""Not what way!" asked T. X. huskily, his spirits doing a littlemountaineering.

　　"The way you mean," she said.

　　"Oh," said T. X.

　　He was back again amidst the rosy snows of dawn, was in factclimbing a dizzy escalier on the topmost height of hope's MontBlanc when she pulled the ladder from under him.

　　"I shall, of course, never marry," she said with a certain primdecision.

　　T. X. fell with a dull sickening thud, discovering that his rosysnows were not unlike cold, hard ice in their lack of resilience.

　　"Who said you would?" he asked somewhat feebly, but in selfdefence.

　　"You did," she said, and her audacity took his breath away.

　　"Well, how am I to help you!" he asked after a while.

　　"By giving me some advice," she said; "do you think I ought to putthe money there!""Indeed I do not," said T. X., recovering some of his naturaldominance; "apart from the fact that you would be compounding afelony, you would merely be laying out trouble for yourself in thefuture. If he can get 20 pounds so easily, he will come for 40pounds. But why do you stay away, why don't you return home?

　　There's no charge and no breath of suspicion against you.""Because I have something to do which I have set my mind to," shesaid, with determination in her tones.

　　"Surely you can trust me with your address," he urged her, "afterall that has passed between us, Belinda Mary - after all the yearswe have known one another.""I shall get out and leave you," she said steadily.

　　"But how the dickens am I going to help you?" he protested.

　　"Don't swear," she could be very severe indeed; "the only way youcan help me is by being kind and sympathetic.""Would you like me to burst into tears?" he asked sarcastically.

　　"I ask you to do nothing more painful or repugnant to your naturalfeelings than to be a gentleman," she said.

　　"Thank you very kindly," said T. X., and leant back in the cabwith an air of supreme resignation.

　　"I believe you're making faces in the dark," she accused him.

　　"God forbid that I should do anything so low," said he hastily;"what made you think that?""Because I was putting my tongue out at you," she admitted, andthe taxi driver heard the shrieks of laughter in the cab behindhim above the wheezing of his asthmatic engine.

　　At twelve that night in a certain suburb of London an overcoatedman moved stealthily through a garden. He felt his way carefullyalong the wall of the house and groped with hope, but with nogreat certainty, along the window sill. He found an envelopewhich his fingers, somewhat s............