Its rigid formality showed that he believed every word of that vile calumny. Ah! if only Mullet would speak! If only he would consent to the truth being told.

But alas! though a fortnight had pa.s.sed since his hurried departure from Pembridge Gardens after hearing of the betrayal of the secret, he had sent her no single word. He was a will-o'-the wisp, gone abroad, in all probability, in order to escape arrest.

For a fortnight, too, she had not seen Frank. After her admission of Jim Jannaway's visit, he had left the house in evident disgust and anger, and had not returned. He had not even written to her, for she understood that he had gone abroad. That afternoon, however, he had sent her the note which for fifteen long anxious days she had been dreading.

She sank upon one of the seats quite alone, yet within sound of the dull roar of the traffic in Kensington Gore, and taking his letter from her m.u.f.f, re-read it, her vision half obscured by hot bitter tears.

"The scoundrel told such a circ.u.mstantial tale," she murmured to herself, "that Frank has believed it without question. Yet--yet if he had come to me, and asked me, what could I have said? It was true that I stayed in that hateful place, even though against my will. Ah! I wonder what foul lies he has told against me--what--"

And hiding her face in her m.u.f.f, she burst again into a flood of tears.

Her sweet, bright countenance had, alas, greatly changed in those past few weeks. Instead of bearing the stamp of inward happiness, she was now wan and pale, with thin cheeks and dark, deep-sunken eyes--the face of a woman whose heart was troubled, and who existed in terror of the future.

Both the Professor and Diamond--who was still a frequent visitor and had long conferences with her father--had noticed the change. But neither had made any remark. They attributed it to her heartfelt regret at not having raised the alarm on finding Jannaway prying into their secret.

The girl's mind, racked by the tortures of conscience and frenzied by the cruel calumnies uttered against her, was now strained to its greatest tension. She was utterly friendless, for even her father now avoided her, and at meals treated her with a cool and studied aversion.

Instead of being petted and indulged as she had been all her life, she was now shunned. He asked of her no advice, nor did he invite her to his study each evening to chat, as had been his habit ever since she had left school.

One friend she possessed in the world--"Red Mullet," the adventurer who posed as a mining engineer! Where was he? Ay, who could tell?

"That man threatened his arrest if I did not remain silent," she said, speaking aloud to herself, her eyes fixed upon the bare, cheerless prospect before her. "I have told the truth, and already he has carried out one of his threats. Perhaps he will carry out the other. Probably he will, and then--and then I shall lose my only friend! He may allege, too, that because `Red Mullet' is my friend, he is my lover! Ah! I wonder what shameful scandal he has told Frank! I wonder! Oh! Why has Frank not come to me for an explanation for proof of those abominable lies uttered by a man whom he knows as a blackguard and a thief. It is cruel!" she sobbed, "cruel--too cruel! Ah! Frank, my own Frank, I love you with all my heart--with all my soul! You are mine, mine!" she cried, raising her clenched hands to heaven in her frenzy of despair, "and yet I have lost you--lost my father's great secret--lost everything--_everything_!"

Her white lips moved, but no sound came from them. Her eyes were closed, her hands clenched tightly as there, with none to witness her agony of soul, she implored the protection of her Maker and the clemency of Providence in that, the greatest trial of all her life.

She prayed in deep earnestness for a.s.sistance and strength to withstand the evil machinations of her enemies.

With Frank's departure, the sun of her existence had set. The future was only grey and darkening, like the dismal, dispiriting scene that spread before her.

Love and life were, alas, lost to her for ever.

Away over those leafless trees, eastward beyond Hyde Park and Grosvenor Square, a curious scene was, at that moment, being enacted in the house of her enemies.

Challas, stout and pompous, was standing with his back to the library fireplace, while in an armchair near, sat the white-bearded old German Professor.

"You see from this `wire' from Jim, that all goes along beautifully Erich," the Baronet was saying. "He has engaged a Turk to purchase the land on both sides of the Mount, the price asked being a little bit stiff--eight thousand pounds for the lot. I `wired' him this morning to close at the lowest price possible, and at the same time I've placed him a credit of ten thousand at the Ottoman Bank in Jerusalem."

"Then by this time the deal is closed," remarked the old German, rubbing his thin hands in satisfaction. "Ah! I wonder how our friend Griffin now feels?"

"Yes," laughed Sir Felix, "thanks to Jim we obtained the whole secret without the trouble of deciphering it. That was a smart move of his to capture the little girl as he did."

"Yes," laughed the old man, "it seems that we're on the straight road to success."

"The road!" echoed the great financier. "Why, by this time, I expect the land is ours, and if so, I shall start myself on Sat.u.r.day. I mean to keep my intentions `dark,' of course. The papers will say that I've gone to Vienna, for if it were known that I'd gone to Jerusalem there are men in the City who would be keeping a wary eye on me. They know that when Felix Challas goes abroad, it's generally to see some good thing or other. That's the worst of this cursed popularity. The public eye is upon one the whole time."

As he spoke, the old butler tapped at the door, and handed him another telegram, which he broke open eagerly.

"Ah!" he exclaimed after consulting a little note book which he took from a drawer--the code which Jim always used. "Another from Jim! He's closing at seven thousand eight hundred, the deeds to be signed to-morrow. The story he has told is that the land is to be used for building purposes."

"I suppose the surveyor you sent out with him has fixed the exact spot?"

"Of course. They did that four days ago. It was a difficult task to accomplish without attracting attention, but Jim succeeded. He always does!" added the Baronet with a grin.

"I understood that the Mount was nearly covered by the Jews' cemetery,"

remarked the German.

"So it is. But the plots we want are fortunately rocky places, where burial is impossible. I think it a big stroke of luck--don't you?" he added with a self-satisfied laugh.

"Certainly," was the German's response in his deep, guttural voice, "but what of Mullet? Have you heard anything of him lately?"

"Nothing. He's abroad somewhere. I believe Jim and he have quarrelled.

I only hope they won't get to serious disagreement--if they do it will be very unpleasant for us all. `Red Mullet' hasn't acted straight in this affair at all. He fell in love with Griffin's girl, I think--and became heroic--like the chicken-hearted fool he is."

"You haven't any fear of him turning upon you, I suppose?"

"Fear of him!" laughed Sir Felix heartily.

"Why, my dear Erich, I could put him away for ten years, to-morrow, if I wished, and fortunately he knows it. No. He'll keep a very still tongue, never fear. He still draws his money from Paris, which shows that he doesn't intend mischief."

"Ah! that's all right," declared the Hebrew scholar, greatly satisfied.

"I--well, I've always had suspicions that he meant to play into Griffin's hands."

"So he did, undoubtedly, but Jim and I were rather too clever for him."

At that moment the elderly butler re-entered with a card upon the salver.

Sir Felix took it and his face changed in an instant. His mouth was open, and for a second he seemed speechless.

"Not at home--not at home," he snapped to the man. "Never at home to that person--you understand?"

"Yes, Sir Felix," replied the grave-faced servant, who bowed and withdrew.

Erich Haupt noticed that the visitor, whoever it was, seemed a most unwelcome one.

From the Baronet's subsequent movements the old German realised that he wished to get rid of him.

Therefore, he rose and departed, promising to call next day, and hear the latest report of Jim Jannaway's progress in Jerusalem.

Then, the instant Erich had left the house, Sir Felix rang for his valet, a young Italian, giving him a note to take in a taxi-cab to his office in the City and await a reply.

The man was gone an hour, during which time his master ascended to the great drawing-room, and advancing cautiously to the window, peered out into the grey twilight of the square. He stood behind the curtains so that any one watching the house from the outside could not observe him.

From his nervous anxiety and restless movements it was apparent that he feared his unwelcome visitor might still be watching outside.

As he peered through the crack between the heavy curtains of blue silk brocade and the window sash, his eyes caught sight of a figure, and he sprang back breathless, his face white and drawn, as though he had seen a ghost.

It was a ghost--a ghost of the past that had arises against him in that hour of his greatest triumph.

The young Italian returned, and handed him a bulky letter which he placed in his pocket without opening. Then, having sent him forth with a note to the Ritz Hotel, a mere excuse, he ran up to his dressing-room, quickly exchanged his frock-coat and fancy vest for a suit of rough tweed, and putting on a bowler hat, returned to the library. Upon his face was a haunted look of terror. The unexpected had happened.

From his safe he took a small sealed packet of folded papers which he opened and cast quickly into the fire, waiting in eager impatience until all had been consumed. Then, un.o.bserved, he slipped out by the back in the evening gloom, hurrying down the mews, and through into Hill Street, where he hailed a hansom and drove quickly away.