"Of course I should," I answered. "I have told you it is only because she is here that I remain here."

Albeury rose abruptly, and tossed his half-smoked cigarette into the grate.

"Wait here until I return," he said.

He unlocked the door, and went out of the room. I heard his footsteps grow fainter and fainter as he went along the corridor.

At the end of a quarter of an hour, as he did not return, I went out into the pa.s.sage, locked the door of my room behind me, and walked slowly in the direction Albeury had gone. I knew the number of Dulcie's room to be eighty-seven--it adjoined the bedroom occupied by Connie Stapleton, which opened into a private sitting-room; this I had ascertained from one of the hotel porters. As I reached the door of the sitting-room I heard voices--a man's voice, and the voices of two women.

The man was Albeury. The women, who both spoke at once, were certainly Connie Stapleton and Dulcie. They were in the room, and by their tones I judged them to be wrangling with Albeury. I knocked boldly.

Summoned to enter by Connie Stapleton, I walked straight in and faced them. At once the wrangling ceased.

There was a look in Connie Stapleton's eyes that I had never seen there before. Hitherto I had seen only her attractive side. When I had conversed with her she had always seemed most charming--intelligent, witty, amusing. Now her eyes had in them a cold, steely glitter.

"What do you want, Michael Berrington?" she asked icily. "Don't you think it's time you took off that disguise?"

The sound of a little gasp diverted my attention. I turned, and my gaze met Dulcie's. Her expression betrayed fear.

"Yes, I am Michael Berrington," I said quietly, speaking now in my natural voice, and looking Connie Stapleton full in the eyes. "As you have discovered my ident.i.ty you probably know why I am disguised--just as you most likely know why George Preston was disguised when you, or some of your gang, strangled him on board the boat."

Connie Stapleton's eyes seemed gradually to resemble a snake's. Her lips were tightly closed. Her face was livid. For some moments she stood there, glaring at me. Then she spoke again:

"This man," she said, indicating Albeury, "has been speaking of you. He tells me that he has advised you to return to England, and I have told him it is now too late. You won't see England again, Mr. Berrington--I tell you that quite openly, before this police officer, whom I have known for many years. I do so with impunity because he knows that if he betrays me I can reveal something I know about him--and should do so at once."

I was about to speak, when my gaze again met Dulcie's. She had turned suddenly pale. Now she glanced apprehensively first at her friend, then at me, and then at the American detective Albeury. Deep perplexity as well as fear was in her eyes.

"Do tell me what it all means," she implored, looking up at me; for the first time for many days she seemed to need my help. "So many things have puzzled me during the past days--I have seen so much and heard so much that I can't understand." She turned to Mrs. Stapleton. "Connie,"

she cried out impetuously, "why have you suddenly changed? Why have you turned against me? What have I done or said that has given you offence?"

Before Mrs. Stapleton had time to answer, I spoke:

"Dulcie," I exclaimed, "I will say now what I have wanted for days to tell you, though I have not had a chance of doing so, and I knew that if I wrote a letter you would show it to this woman, who would invent some plausible story to make you disbelieve me. Now listen. This woman is not what you believe her to be. In her presence I tell you that she is an adventuress of an odious description, and that, in becoming friendly with you, also in becoming engaged to your father, she has acted from the basest motives. Dulcie, you must leave her at once, and come away with me."

I saw an extraordinary look of repugnance creep into Dulcie's eyes as she cast a half-frightened glance at Connie Stapleton, seated staring at her with an unconcealed sneer.

"Connie," she said bitterly, "oh, Connie, don't look at me like that!"

The woman laughed.

"Can't you see I have no further use for you, you little fool?" she retorted harshly. "Go with him--go with your lover, return to your doddering old father--if you can get to him--who had the amazing effrontery to ask me to become his wife--I, who am young enough to be his granddaughter!"

At that instant I caught the sound of a door being closed carefully.

Something prompted me to step out into the pa.s.sage, and I came face to face with Gastrell, who had evidently just left Connie Stapleton's other room and so must have overheard our conversation, also whatever conversation with Albeury she might have had before I entered. For some moments we stood looking at each other without speaking. He appeared to be calm and wholly unconcerned.

"Do you want me for anything?" he asked suddenly.

"No," I answered. "I have been to see Mrs. Stapleton."

"That's rather obvious, as you have this instant left her room. Is there anything she can do for you?"

"Do for me?"

"Yes."

He came slowly up to me; then, speaking into my face, he said in a hard undertone:

"You have tried to spy upon us--and failed. Your companion, George Preston, spied upon us--he is dead. By this time to-morrow--"

Without another word he went past me down the corridor. He turned the corner at the end, and a moment later I heard the iron gates of the lift shut with a clatter, and the lift descending.

Just then it was that Dulcie rushed out into the corridor. Catching sight of me, she sprang forward and clung to me, trembling.

"Oh, Mike! Mike!" she cried piteously, "I am so terrified. I have just heard such dreadful things--Mike, your life is in danger--you must get away from here at once!"

"That's what I am going to do," I said, with an a.s.sumption of calmness I was far from feeling. "And you must come with me, my darling. What about your clothes and things? Can you get them packed quickly?"

Still clinging to me, she hesitated.

"I--I am afraid to go back into that room," she exclaimed at last.

"Connie has suddenly turned upon me--I believe she can't bear me any more."

"I'm glad to hear that," I answered, intensely relieved at last. Ah, if only the woman had "turned upon" her long before, I thought, how much better it would have been for Dulcie.

"But surely," I said, "you can go into your own room to pack your things."

This proposition evidently troubled her.

"No," she said after an instant's pause. "Doris Lorrimer is in my room."

"And what if she is? She can't prevent your packing your own things?"

"She can, and she will. Oh, Mike," she continued bitterly, "you don't know--you can't understand. Doris Lorrimer is under Connie's control, just as I have been. Connie seems to have some extraordinary power over her. She does everything Connie tells her to, and Connie has told her not to let me go--to retain my belongings if I attempt to leave."

"But a moment ago Mrs. Stapleton told you to go--she said she had done with you; I heard her myself."

"She doesn't mean it. I am terrified of her now, Mike; I want to get away from her, but I daren't. If I go, something awful will happen to me--I know it will!"

Though I had long suspected it, only now did I realize the fearful hold that this woman had obtained over Dulcie, who seemed hardly able any longer to exercise her will. This, I knew, must in a measure be the result of the woman's having hypnotized her. My mind was made up in a moment.

"Dulcie," I exclaimed firmly, "you are coming with me to-night--you understand? To-night--whether you take your things or not is not of consequence. I'll see to everything. Don't return to your room. Don't see Mrs. Stapleton again. Come with me--now."

Albeury appeared in the pa.s.sage. Seeing us, he approached.

"Go at once, Mr. Berrington," he said in a tone of authority. "It is even more serious than I thought. You haven't a moment to lose."

"I am taking Miss Challoner with me," I replied. "I refuse to leave her here."

He glanced at each of us in turn.