"In Paris; my niece attended school in France."

"I suppose you had a great many friends in Paris?"

"No, very few; I am not of a social turn at all. I do not seek friends.

I live a very secluded life for reasons which it is not necessary to explain."

"Then there are none of your Paris friends whom you would suspect as the author of that warning note?"

"No."

The detective re-read the note, examined it very carefully, and finally said:

"We can form no suspicion from the note itself."

"No."

"Madam, have you an alb.u.m?"

"Yes."

"Will you let me look at it?"

"For what purpose?"

"I wish to look at the pictures of some of the people you knew in Paris."

The old lady smiled and said:

"The alb.u.m belongs to my niece. It is merely a collection of prominent French characters--public men, statesmen, army officers, musicians, painters and actors--the photographs do not represent friends of ours."

"Still you have no objection to my seeing it?"

"No, sir."

"Please let me see it, and if you have no objection let your niece be present. She may recall facts that have possibly slipped from your memory."

"You are a very strange young man."

"Yes, I am a very strange young man and I go about my business in a strange manner. Madam, you did the right thing when you sent for me. You and your niece are two lone ladies living in this house. It is evident some one has discovered that you have valuables in your house. A scheme of robbery, it would appear from the warning note, is contemplated. Some one friendly to you has learned of the intended robbery and has warned you. This warning may not only save your property but your life, and it is necessary that we should make every effort to learn who sent the warning note. I desire to see the photographs."

Mrs. Frewen summoned her niece and requested her to bring her photograph alb.u.m. The niece entered the room and was introduced to our hero, and she failed to conceal her surprise upon being informed that the handsome young man, so exquisitely attired, was a celebrated and successful detective. If Oscar noted her surprise he did not indicate it, but took the alb.u.m and deliberately commenced turning over its pages, and the niece standing over him said:

"You will only find pictures of well-known characters in the alb.u.m. I do not think there is a photograph of a single friend of ours in the book."

"Then you have another book?"

"No."

"You do not keep pictures of your friends?"

"No."

"It is unfortunate under the present circ.u.mstances; but, miss, what public character is the original of that photograph?"

The girl blushed and answered:

"I had forgotten that the picture was in the alb.u.m."

"Ah, I see; but who is the original?"

"Oh, he is a young man whose mother I knew in Paris. Aunty was very kind to the mother and also to the young man at the time he was sick."

"Did you ever see this young man?"

"Never."

"Did your aunt ever see him?"

"Yes, she remained with the mother one or two nights, aiding in nursing him, and she supported them during his illness."

"What created your aunt's interest in the young man?"

"His mother had been her maid many years previously."

"What is the character of the young man?"

The girl did not answer.

"You do not answer me."

"It is a very singular question."

"It is?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I never saw the young man, how should I know anything concerning his character?"

Mrs. Frewen had been an interested listener to the conversation, and turning to the aunt our hero said:

"You know this young man?"

"Yes."

"He is a very handsome young fellow, I should think, from his picture."