The mystery of the Doctor and his daughter was an increasing one. His pretended ignorance of certain facts had been unmasked by her in a manner which showed that she was aware of the actual truth. Was she really a secret messenger from the girl he loved so devotedly--the girl with whom he had last walked and talked with in the quietness of the London sundown in Nevern Square?

He glanced again at her pretty but mysterious face. She was a lady-- refined, well-educated, with tiny white hands and well-shod feet. There was nothing of the artificial _chic_ of the Parisienne about her, but a quiet dignity which seemed almost incongruous in one so young. Indeed, he wondered that she was allowed about in the streets of Paris alone, without a chaperone.

Her piquante manner, and her utter disregard of all conventionality, amused him. True, she was older than Maud but most possibly her bosom friend. If so, Maud was probably in hiding in Paris, and this pretty girl had been sent to him as Cupid's messenger.

"I wanted to see you on a matter which closely concerns Mr Statham."

"Anything that concerns Mr Statham concerns myself, Miss Lorena," he said. "I am his confidential secretary."

"I have ascertained that, otherwise I would not have dared to speak to you. I want to warn you."

"Of what?"

"Of a deeply-laid conspiracy to wreck Mr Statham's life," she said.

"There have arisen recently two men who are now determined to lay bare the secret of the millionaire's past, in revenge for some old grievance, real or fancied."

"For the purposes of blackmail--eh?" he asked. "Every rich man is constantly being subjected to attempted blackmail in some form or other."

"No. They have no desire to obtain money. Their sole intention is to expose Mr Statham."

"Most men who are unsuccessful are eager to denounce the methods of their more fortunate friends," he said, smiling. "Mr Statham has no fear of exposure, I a.s.sure you." The girl looked him straight in the face with a long, steady gaze.

"Ah! I see?" she exclaimed, after a pause. "You treat me as an enemy, Mr Rolfe; not as a friend."

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

THE LOCKED DOOR IN PARK LANE.

"Excuse me, Miss Lorena, I do not," he declared quickly. "Only we have heard so many threats of exposure that to cease to regard them seriously. Mr Statham's high reputation is sufficient guarantee to the public."

"I quite admit that," answered the girl. "It is not the present that is in question, but the past."

"In these days of hustle, a man's past matters but little. It is what he is, not what he was, which the public recognise."

"Personally," she said, "I hold Mr Statham in highest esteem. I have never met him, it's true, but I have knowledge of certain kind and generous actions on his part, actions which have brought happiness and prosperity to those who have fallen upon misfortune. For that reason I resolved to speak to you and warn you of the plot in progress. Do you happen to know a certain Mr John Adams?"

Rolfe started, and stared at her. What could she know of the Damoclean sword suspended over the house of Statham?

"Well," he answered guardedly, "I once met a man of that name, I think."

"Recently?"

"About a month ago."

"You knew nothing of him prior to that?"

Rolfe hesitated. "Well, no," he replied.

"He made pretence of being friendly with you."

"Yes. But to tell you the truth I was somewhat suspicions of him. What do you know of him? Tell me."

"I happen to be well acquainted with him," the girl responded. "It is he who has arisen like one from the grave, and intends to avenge the wrong which he declares that Mr Statham had done him."

"Recently?"

"No, years ago, when they were abroad together--and Mr Statham was still a poor man."

Charlie Rolfe was silent. He knew Adams; he knew, too, that evil was intended. He had warned old Sam Statham, but the latter had not heeded.

Adams had had the audacity to approach him in confidence, believing that he might be bought over. When he had discovered that the millionaire's secretary was incorruptible, he openly declared his sinister intentions.

"I had no idea you were acquainted with Adams," he said, still puzzled to know who she was, and what was her motive.

"I happen to know certain details of the plot," she answered.

"And you will reveal them to me?" he asked in quick anxiety.

"Upon certain conditions."

"And what are they? I am all attention."

"The first is that you will not seek to learn the ident.i.ty of the person who is a.s.sociated with Mr Adams in the forthcoming exposure; and the second is that you say nothing to Mr Statham regarding our secret meeting."

"Why?" he asked, not quite understanding the reason of her last stipulation. "I thought you wished to warn Mr Statham?"

"No. I warn you. You can take measures of precaution, on Mr Statham's behalf without making explanation."

"Mr Statham has already seen John Adams and recognised him. He is already forewarned."

"And he has not taken any steps in self-defence?" she cried quickly.

"Why need he trouble?"

"Why, because that man Adams has sworn to hound him to self-destruction."

Rolfe shrugged his shoulders, and replied:

"Mr Statham has really no apprehension of any unpleasantness, Miss Lorena. It is true that in the old days the two men were friends, and, apparently, they quarrelled. Adams was lost for years to all who knew him, and now suddenly reappears to find his old acquaintance wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, and seeks, as many more before him have done, to profit by his former friendship."

"Or enmity," added the girl, lowering her sunshade a little until for a moment it hid her features. "I do not think you realise the dastardly cunning of the plot in progress. It has not only as its object the ruin of the credit of the house of Statham Brothers, but the creation of a scandal which Mr Samuel Statham will not dare to face. He must either fly the country, or commit suicide."

"Well?"

"The latter is expected by the two men who have combined and are now perfecting their ingenious conspiracy. It is believed by them that he will take his own life."

Charlie Rolfe reflected for a moment. He recollected old Sam's terrible agitation on the day when he recognised John Adams leaning against the railings of the Park. Of late, the great financier had betrayed signs of unusual nervousness, and had complained several times of insomnia.

To his secretary knowledge he had spent two nights that very week in walking the streets of London from midnight until dawn, ostensibly to do charitable actions to the homeless, but in reality because his mind was becoming unbalanced by the constant strain of not knowing from one moment to another when Adams would deal his staggering blow.

Had there been any question of blackmail, the aid of solicitors and of Scotland Yard could have been invoked. But there had been no threat beyond the statement made openly to Rolfe by the man who intended to encompa.s.s the ruin of the eccentric millionaire and philanthropist.