"Is this the lady who left the clothes here a few nights ago?" I asked.

He stopped and stared, recognizing me slowly, and remembering by degrees what had pa.s.sed between us at our last interview.

"You tellee me lalee die; how him lalee when lalee die?"

"The lady is not dead; I made a mistake. Is this the lady?"

"Lalee talk; I no see face, I hear speak."

"Have you seen this man before?" I inquired of my nearly insensible companion.

"I think so in a dream," she murmured, trying to recall her poor wandering wits back from some region into which they had strayed.

"Him lalee!" cried the Chinaman, overjoyed at the prospect of getting his money. "Pletty speak, I knowee him. Lalee want clo?"

"Not to-night. The lady is sick; see, she can hardly stand." And overjoyed at this seeming evidence that the police had failed to get wind of my interest in this place, I slipped a coin into the Chinaman's hand, and drew Miss Oliver away towards the carriage I now saw drawing up before the shop.

Lena's eyes when she came up to help me were a sight to see. They seemed to ask who this girl was and what I was going to do with her. I answered the look by a very brief and evidently wholly unexpected explanation.

"This is your cousin who ran away," I remarked. "Don't you recognize her?"

Lena gave me up then and there; but she accepted my explanation, and even lied in her desire to carry out my whim.

"Yes, ma'am," said she, "and glad I am to see her again." And with a deft push here and a gentle pull there, she succeeded in getting the sick woman into the carriage.

The crowd, which had considerably increased by this time, was beginning to flock about us with shouts of no little derision. Escaping it as best I could, I took my seat by the poor girl's side, and bade Lena give the order for home. When we left the curb-stone behind, I felt that the last page in my adventures as an amateur detective had closed.

But I counted without my cost. Miss Oliver, who was in an advanced stage of fever, lay like a dead weight on my shoulder during the drive down the avenue, but when we entered the Park and drew near my house, she began to show such signs of violent agitation that it was with difficulty that the united efforts of Lena and myself could prevent her from throwing herself out of the carriage door which she had somehow managed to open.

As the carriage stopped she grew worse, and though she made no further efforts to leave it, I found her present impulses even harder to contend with than the former. For now she would not be pushed out or dragged out, but crouched back moaning and struggling, her eyes fixed on the stoop, which is not unlike that of the adjoining house; till with a sudden realization that the cause of her terror lay in her fear of re-entering the scene of her late terrifying experiences, I bade the coachman drive on, and reluctantly, I own, carried her back to the house she had left in the morning.

And this is how I came to spend a second night in Miss Althorpe's hospitable mansion.

XXVIII.

TAKEN ABACK.

One incident more and this portion of my story is at an end. My poor patient, sicker than she had been the night before, left me but little leisure for thought or action disconnected with my care for her. But towards morning she grew quieter, and finding in an open drawer those tangled threads of yarn of which I have spoken, I began to rewind them, out of a natural desire to see everything neat and orderly about me. I had nearly finished my task when I heard a strange noise from the bed.

It was a sort of gurgling cry which I found hard to interpret, but which only stopped when I laid my work down again. Manifestly this sick girl had very nervous fancies.

When I went down to breakfast the next morning, I was in that complacent state of mind natural to a woman who feels that her abilities have a.s.serted themselves and that she would soon receive a recognition of the same at the hands of the one person for whose commendation she had chiefly been working. The identification of Miss Oliver by the Chinaman was the last link in the chain connecting her with the Mrs. James Pope who had accompanied Mr. Van Burnam to his father's house in Gramercy Park, and though I would fain have had the murdered woman's rings to show, I was contented enough with the discoveries I had made to wish for the hour which would bring me face to face with the detective.

But a surprise awaited me at the breakfast table in the shape of a communication from that gentleman. It had just been brought from my house by Lena, and it ran thus:

"DEAR MISS b.u.t.tERWORTH:

"Pardon our interference. _We_ have found the rings which you think so conclusive an evidence of guilt against the person secreting them; and, _with your permission_ [this was basely underlined], Mr. Franklin Van Burnam will be in custody to-day.

"I will wait upon you at ten.

"Respectfully yours,

"EBENEZAR GRYCE."

_Franklin Van Burnam!_ Was I dreaming? _Franklin_ Van Burnam accused of this crime and in custody! What did it mean? I had found no evidence against Franklin Van Burnam.

_BOOK III_.

THE GIRL IN GRAY.

XXIX.

AMELIA BECOMES PEREMPTORY.

"Madam, I hope I see you satisfied?"

This was Mr. Gryce's greeting as he entered my parlor on that memorable morning.

"Satisfied?" I repeated, rising and facing him with what he afterwards described as a stony glare.

"Pardon me! I suppose you would have been still more satisfied if we had waited for _you_ to point out the guilty man to _us_. But you must make some allowances for professional egotism, Miss b.u.t.terworth. We really could not allow you to take the initiatory step in a matter of such importance."

"Oh!" was my sole response; but he has since told me that there was a great deal in that _oh_; so much, that even he was startled by it.

"You set to-day for a talk with me," he went on; "probably relying upon what you intended to a.s.sure yourself of yesterday. But our discovery at the same time as yourself of the rings in Mr. Van Burnam's office, need not interfere with your giving us your full confidence. The work you have done has been excellent, and we are disposed to give you considerable credit for it."

"Indeed!"

I had no choice but to thus indulge in e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns. The communication he had just made was so startling, and his a.s.sumption of my complete understanding of and partic.i.p.ation in the discovery he professed to have made, so puzzling, that I dared not venture beyond these simple exclamations, lest he should see the state of mind into which he had thrown me, and shut up like an oyster.

"We have kept counsel over what we have found," the wary old detective continued, with a smile, which I wish I could imitate, but which unhappily belongs to him alone. "I hope that you, or your maid, I should say, have been equally discreet."

My maid!

"I see you are touched; but women find it so hard to keep a secret. But it does not matter. To-night the whole town will know that the older and not the younger brother has had these rings in his keeping."

"It will be nuts for the papers," I commented; then making an effort, I remarked: "You are a most judicious man, Mr. Gryce, and must have other reasons than the discovery of these rings for your threatened arrest of a man of such excellent repute as Silas Van Burnam's eldest son. I should like to hear them, Mr. Gryce. I should like to hear them very much."