Introduction and Part I of Chapter I of the Brotherhood of the Seven Kings. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Brotherhood of the Seven Kings by L. T. Meade and Robert Eustis. Introduction That a secret society based upon the lines of similar institutions so notorious on the continent during the last century could ever have existed in the London of our day may seem impossible. Such a society, however, not only did exist, but through the instrumentality of a woman of unparalleled capacity and genius, obtained a firm footing. A century ago the Brotherhood of the Seven Kings was a name hardly whispered without horror and fear in Italy, and now, by the fascinations and influence of one woman, it began to accomplish fresh deeds of unparalleled daring and subtlety in London. By the wide extent of its scientific resources and the impregnable secrecy of its organizations, it threatened to become a formidable menace to society as well as a source of serious anxiety to the authorities of the law. It is to the courtesy of Mr. Norman Head that we are indebted for the subject matter of the following hitherto unpublished revelations. After one, at the edge of the crater, told by Norman Head. It was in the year 1894 that the first of the remarkable events which I am about to give to the world occurred. They found me something of a philosopher and a recluse. Having, as I thought, lived my life and done with the active part of existence. It is true that I was young, not more than thirty-five years of age, but in the ghastly past I had committed a supreme error, and because of that paralyzing experience, I had left the bustling world and found my solace in the scientist's laboratory and the philosopher's study. Ten years before these stories began, when in Naples studying biology, I fell a victim to the wiles and fascinations of a beautiful Italian, a scientist of no mean attainments herself with beauty beyond that of ordinary mortals. She had appealed not only to my head, but also to my heart. Dazzled by her beauty and intellect, she led me where she would. Her aims and ambitions, which in the false glamour she threw over them I thought the loftiest in the world, became also mine. She introduced me to the men of her set. I was quickly in the toils, and on a night never to be forgotten, I took part in a grotesque and horrible ceremony, and became a member of her brotherhood. It was called the Brotherhood of the Seven Kings, and dated its origin from one of the secret societies of the Middle Ages. In my first enthusiasm it seemed to me to embrace all the principles of true liberty. Catherine was its chief and queen. Almost immediately after my initiation, however, I made an appalling discovery, suspicion pointed to the beautiful Italian as the instigator, if not the author, of a most terrible crime. None of the details could be brought home to her, but there was little doubt that she was its moving spring. Loving her passionately as I then did, I tried to close my intellect against the all-too-conclusive evidence of her guilt. For a time I succeeded, but when I was ordered myself to take part in a transaction both dishonorable and treacherous, my eyes were opened. Horror seized me, and I fled to England to place myself under the protection of its laws. Ten years went by, and the past was beginning to fade. It was destined to be recalled to me with startling vividness. When a young man at Cambridge I had studied physiology, but never qualified myself as a doctor, having independent means. But in my laboratory in the vicinity of Regents Park I worked at biology and physiology for the pure love of these absorbing sciences. I was busily engaged on the afternoon of the 3rd of August, 1894, when Mrs. Kenyon, an old friend, called to see me. She was shown into my study and I went to her there. Mrs.  She took the seat I offered her. It is too bad of you, Norman, she said. It is months since you have been near me. Do you intend to forget your old friends? I hope you will forgive me, I answered. You know how busy I always am. You work too hard, she replied. Why a man with your brains and opportunities for enjoying life wishes to shut himself up in the way you do, I cannot imagine. I am quite happy as I am, Mrs. Kenyon, I replied. Why therefore should I change? By the way, how is Cecil? I have come here to speak about him. You know, of course, the wonderful change in his fortunes? Yes, I answered. He has succeeded to the carn property, and is now Lord Carn. There is a large rent-roll and considerable estates. You know, Norman, that Cecil has always been a most delicate boy.  He is, and I will explain how in a moment. His life is a most important one, as Lord Carn much is expected of him. He has not only under the providence of God to live, but by that one little life he has to keep a man of exceedingly bad character out of a great property. I allude to Hugh Doncaster, where Cecil to die, Hugh would be Lord Carn. You have already doubtless heard of his character? I know the man well by repute, I said. I thought you did. His disappointment and rage at Cecil's succeeding to the Tidal are almost beyond bounds. Rumors of his malevolent feelings toward the child have already reached me. I am told that he is now in London, but his life, like yours, is more or less mysterious. I thought it just possible, Norman, that you, as an old friend, might be able to get me some particulars with regard to his whereabouts. Why do you want to know? I asked. I feel a strange uneasiness about him, something which I cannot account for. Of course, in these enlightened days he would not attempt the child's life, but I should be more comfortable if I were assured that he were nowhere in Cecil's vicinity. But the man could do nothing to your boy, I said. Of course, I will find out what I can, but Mrs. Kenyon interrupted me. Thank you. It is a relief to know that you will help me. Of course, there is no real danger, but I am a widow and Cecil is only a child. Now I must tell you about his health. He is almost quite well. The most marvelous resurrection has taken place. For the last two months he has been under the care of that extraordinary woman, Madame Colucci. She has worked miracles in his case. And now, to complete the cure, she is sending him to the Mediterranean. He sails tomorrow night under the care of Dr. Fieta. I cannot bear parting with him, but it is for his good, and Madame Colucci insists that a sea voyage is indispensable. But won't you accompany him? I asked. I am sorry to say that is impossible. My eldest girl Ethel is about to be married, and I cannot leave her on the eve of her wedding. But Cecil will be in good hands. Dr. Fieta is a capital fellow. I have every faith in him. Where are they going? To Cairo. They sail tomorrow night in the Hedaspis. Cairo is a fearfully hot place at this time of year. Are you quite sure it is wise to send a delicate lad like Cecil there in August? Oh, he will not stay. He sails for the sake of the voyage, and will come back by the return boat. The voyage is, according to Madame Colucci, to complete the cure. That marvelous woman has succeeded where the medical profession gave little hope. You have heard of her, of course. I am sick of her very name, I replied. One hears it everywhere. She has bewitched London with her impostors and quackery. There is no quackery about her, Norman. I believe her to be the cleverest woman in England. There are authentic accounts of her wonderful cures which cannot be contradicted. There are even rumours that she is able to restore youth in beauty by her arts. The whole of society is at her feet, and it is whispered that even royalty are among her patients. Of course, her fees are enormous, but look at the results. Have you ever met her? Never. Where does she come from? Who is she? She is an Italian, but she speaks English perfectly. She has taken a house which is a perfect palace in Wellbeck Street. And who is Dr. Fietta, a medical man who assists Madame in her treatments? I have just seen him. He is charming and devoted to Cecil. Five o'clock I had no idea it was so late. I must be going. You will let me know when you hear of any news of Mr. Doncaster? Come and see me soon. I accompanied my visitor to the door, and then returning to my study sat down to resume the work I had been engaged in when I was interrupted. But Mrs. Kenyon's visit had made me restless. I knew Hugh Doncaster's character well, reports of his evil ways now and then agitated society, but the man had hitherto escaped the stern arm of justice. Of course, there could be no real foundation for Mrs. Kenyon's fears, but I felt that I could sympathize with her. The child was young and delicate. If Doncaster could injure him without discovery he would not scruple to do so. As I thought over these things, a vague sensation of coming trouble possessed me. I hastily got into my evening dress and, having dined at my club, found myself at half-past ten in a drawing-room in Grassvenor Square. As I passed on into the reception rooms, having exchanged a few words with my hostess, I came across to Frayer, a lawyer and a special friend of mine. We got into conversation. As we talked, and my eyes glanced idly round the groups of smartly dressed people, I noticed where a crowd of men were clustering round and paying homage to a stately woman at the farther end of the room. A diamond star flashed in her dusky hair. On her neck and arms diamonds also glittered. She had an upright bearing and a regal appearance. Her rosy lips were smiling.  At the first glance I felt that I had seen her before, but could not tell when or where. Who is that woman? I asked of my companion. My dear fellow! he replied with an amused smile. Don't you know? That is the great Madame Colucci, the rage of the season. The great specialist, the great consultant. London is mad about her. She has only been here ten minutes, and look, she is going already. They say she has a dozen engagements every night. Madame Colucci began to move towards the door, and anxious to get a nearer view I also passed rapidly through the throng. I reached the head of the stairs before she did, and as she went by looked her full in the face. Her eyes met mine. Their dark depths seemed to read me through. She half smiled, half paused as if to speak, changed her mind, made a stately inclination of her queenly head and went slowly downstairs. For a moment I stood still, there was a ringing in my ears, and my heart was beating to suffocation. Then I hastily followed her. When I reached the pavement, Madame Colucci's carriage stopped the way. She did not notice me, but I was able to observe her. She was bending out and talking eagerly to someone. The following words fell on my ear. It's all right. They sail to-morrow evening. The man to whom she spoke made a reply which I could not catch, but I had seen his face. He was Hugh Doncaster. Madame Colucci's carriage rolled away, and I hailed a handsome. In supreme moments we think rapidly. I thought quickly then. Where to? asked the driver. Number 140 Earl's Terrace Kensington I called out. I sat back as I spoke. The horror of past memories was almost paralyzing me. But I quickly pulled myself together. I knew that I must act and act quickly. I had just seen the head of the brotherhood of the seven kings. Madame Colucci changed in much since I last saw her, was the woman who had wrecked my heart and life ten years ago in Naples. With my knowledge of the past I was well aware that where this woman appeared victims fell. Her present victim was a child. I must save that child, even if my own life were the penalty. She had ordered the boy abroad. He was to sail to-morrow with an emissary of hers. She was in league with Doncaster. If she could get rid of the boy, Doncaster would doubtless pay her a fabulous sum. For the working of her she above all things wanted money. Yes, without a doubt the lad's life was in the gravest danger. And I had not a moment to lose. The first thing was to communicate with the mother, and if possible put a stop to the intended voyage. I arrived at the house, flung open the doors of the handsome, and ran up the steps. Here unexpected news awaited me. The servant who answered my summons said that Mrs. Kenyon had started for Scotland by the night mail. She had received a telegram announcing the serious illness of her eldest girl. Ungetting it she had started for the north, but would not reach her destination until the following evening. Is Lord Carn in? I asked. No, sir, was the reply. My mistress did not like to leave him here alone, and he has been sent over to Madame Colucci's one hundred Wellbeck Street. Perhaps you are not aware, sir, that his lordship sails to-morrow evening for Cairo? Yes, I know all about that, I replied, and now if you will give me your mistress's address I shall be much obliged to you. The man supplied it. I entered my handsome again. For a moment it occurred to me that I would send a telegram to intercept Mrs. Kenyon on her rapid journey north, but I finally made up my mind not to do so. The boy was already in the enemy's hands, and I felt sure that I could now only rescue him by Gile. I returned home, having already made up my mind how to act. I would accompany Cecil and Dr. Fietta to Cairo. At eleven o'clock on the following morning I had taken my birth in the hadaspis, and at nine that evening was on board. I caught a momentary glimpse of young Lord Carn and his attendant, but in order to avoid explanations kept out of their way. It was not until the following morning, when the steamer was well down the channel, that I made my appearance on deck, where I at once saw the boy sitting at the stern in a chair. Beside him was a lean, middle-aged man wearing a pair of pantsnay. He looked every inch a foreigner, with his pointed beard, waxed moustache, and deep-set beady eyes. As I sauntered across the deck to where they were sitting, Lord Carn looked up and instantly recognized me. Mr. Head! he exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. You here? I am very glad to see you. I am on my way to Cairo on business, I said, shaking the boy warmly by the hand. To Cairo? Why? That is where we are going. But you never told Mother you were coming, and she saw you the day before yesterday.  But last night, just before we sailed, there came a telegram, telling us that Ethel was better. As Mother had to go away, I went to Madame Colucci's for the night. I love going there. She has a lovely house, and she is so delightful herself. And this is Dr. Fieta, who has come with me. As the boy added these words, Dr. Fieta came forward and peered at me through his pants-nay. I bowed, and he returned my salutation. This is an extraordinary coincidence, Dr. Fieta, I exclaimed. Cecil Kenyon happens to be the son of one of my greatest friends. I am glad to see him looking so well. Whatever Madame Colucci's treatment has been, it has had a marvelous effect. I am told that you are fortunate enough to be the participator in her wonderful secrets and cures. I have the honour of assisting Madame Colucci, he replied with a strong foreign accent. But may I take the liberty of inquiring who gave you the information about myself? It was Mrs. Kenyon, I answered. She told me all about you the other day.  No, for I did not know myself. An urgent telegram calling me to Egypt arrived that evening, and I only booked my passage yesterday. I am fortunate in having the honour of meeting so distinguished savant as yourself. I have heard much about Madame Colucci's marvellous occult powers, but I suppose the secrets of her success are very jealously guarded. The profession, of course, poo-poo her, I know. But if one may credit all one hears, she possesses remedies undreamt of in their philosophy. It is quite true, Mr. Head. As a medical man myself, I convulse for her capacity, and unfettered by English professional scrupulousness. Madame Colucci and I are very proud of our young friend here, and hope that the voyage will complete his cure, and would fit him for the high position he is destined to occupy. The voyage flew by. Fierro was an intelligent man, and his scientific attainments were considerable. But for my knowledge of the terrible past my fears might have slumbered, but as it was they were always present with me, and the moment all too quickly arrived when suspicion was to be plunged into certainty. On the day before we were due at Malta the wind sprang up, and we got into a choppy sea. When I had finished breakfast I went to Cecil's cabin to see how he was. He was just getting up and looked pale and unwell. There is a nasty sea on, I said, but the captain says we shall be out of it in an hour or so. I hope we shall, he answered, for it makes me feel squeamish, but I daresay I shall be all right when I get on deck. Dr. Fieta has given me something to stop the sickness, but it has not had much effect. I do not know anything that really stops sea sickness, I answered, but what has he done? Oh, a curious thing, Mr. Head. He pricked my arm with a needle on a syringe, and squirted something in. He says it is a certain cure for sea sickness. Look! said the child, bearing his arm. That is where he did it. I examined the mark closely. It had evidently been made with a hypodermic injection needle. Did Dr. Fieta tell you what he put into your arm, I asked? Yes, he said it was Morphea. Where does he keep his needle? It is on his trunk there, under his bunk. I shall be dressed directly and will come on deck. I left the cabin and went up the companion. The doctor was pacing to and fro on the hurricane deck. I approached him. Your charge has not been well, I said. I have just seen him. He tells me you have given him a hypodermic of Morphea. He turned round and gave me a quick glance of uneasy fear. Did Lord Carn tell you so? Yes. Well, Mr. Head, it is the very best cure for sea sickness. I have found it very efficacious. Do you think it wise to give a child Morphea, I asked? I do not discuss my treatment with an unqualified man, he replied breastfully, turning away as he spoke. I looked after him, and as he disappeared down the deck my fears became certainties. I determined, come what would, to find out what he had given the boy. I knew only too well the infinite possibilities of that dangerous little instrument, a hypodermic syringe. As the day wore on, the sea moderated, and at five o'clock it was quite calm again, a welcome change to the passengers, who, with the permission of the captain, had arranged to give a dance that evening on deck. The occasion was one when ordinary scruples must fade out of sight. Honor in such a mission as I had set myself must take place to the watchful zeal of the detective. I was determined to take advantage of the dance to explore Dr. Fieta's cabin. The doctor was fond of dancing, and as soon as I saw that he and Lord Karn were well engaged, I descended the companion and went to their cabin. I switched on the electric light, and dragging the trunk from beneath the bunk hastily opened it. It was unlocked and only secured by straps. I ran my hand rapidly through the contents, which were chiefly closed, but tucked in one corner I found a case, and pulling it out opened it.  I hurried up to the light and examined it. Smeared round the inside of the glass and adhering to the bottom of the little plunger was a whitish gelatinous-looking substance. This was no ordinary hypodermic solution. It was half-liquified gelatin, such as I knew so well as the medium for the cultivation of microorganisms. For a moment I felt half-stunned. What infernal culture might it not contain? Time was flying, and at any moment I might be discovered. I hastily slipped the syringe into my pocket, and closing the trunk replaced it, and switching off the electric light returned to the deck. My temples were throbbing, and it was with difficulty I could keep myself control. I made up my mind quickly. Fietta would, of course, miss the syringe, but the chances were that he would not do so that night. As yet there was nothing apparently the matter with the boy, but might there not be flowing through his veins some poisonous germs of disease, which only required a period of incubation for their development? At daybreak the boat would arrive at Malta. I would go on shore at once, call upon some medical man, and lay the case before him in confidence, in the hope of his having the things I should need in order to examine the contents of the syringe. If I found any organisms I would take the law into my own hands, and carry the boy back to England by the next boat. No sleep visited me that night, and I lay tossing to and fro in my bunk longing for daylight. At six a.m. I heard the engine bell ring, and the screw suddenly slowed down to half speed. I leapt up and went on deck. I could see the outline of the rockbound fortress and the lighthouse of St. Elmo looming more vividly every moment. As soon as we were at anchor and the gangway down I hailed one of the little green boats, and told the men to row me to the shore. I drove at once to the grand hotel in the Strada Real, and asked the Italian guide the address of a medical man. He gave me the address of an English doctor who lived close by, and I went there at once to see him. It was now seven o'clock, and I found him up. I made my apologies for the early hour of my visit, put the whole matter before him, and produced the syringe. For a moment he was inclined to take my story within curjulity, but by degrees he became interested and ended by inviting me to breakfast with him. After the meal we repaired to his consulting room to make our investigations. He brought out his microscope which I saw to my delight was of the latest design, and I set at once to work, while he watched me with evident interest. At last the crucial moment came, and I bent over the instrument and adjusted the focus on my preparation. My suspicions were only too well confirmed by what I had extracted which I saw. The substance from the syringe was a mass of microorganisms, but of what nature I did not know. I had never seen anything quite like them before. I drew back. I wished you would look at this, I said. You tell me you have devoted considerable attention to bacteriology. Please tell me what you see. Dr. Benson applied his eye to the instrument, regulating the focus for a few moments in silence. Then he raised his head and looked at me with a curious expression. Where did this culture come from? he asked. From London I presume, I answered. It is extraordinary, he said with emphasis, but there is no doubt, whatever, that these organisms are the specific germs of the very disease I have studied here so assiduously. They are the micrococci of Mediterranean fever, the minute round or oval bacteria. They are absolutely characteristic. I jumped to my feet. Is that so? I cried. The diabolical nature of the plot was only too plain. These germs injected into a patient would produce a fever which only occurs in the Mediterranean. The fact that the boy had been in the Mediterranean even for a short time would be a complete blind as to the way in which they obtained access to the body, as everyone would think the disease occurred from natural causes. How long is the period of incubation? I asked. About ten days, replied Dr. Benson. I extended my hand. You have done me an invaluable service, I said. I may possibly be able to do you a still further service, was his reply. I have made Mediterranean fever the study of my life, and have, I believe, discovered an antitoxin for it. I have tried my discovery on the patients of the Naval Hospital with excellent results. The local disturbance is slight, and I have never found bad symptoms, follow the treatment. If you will bring the boy to me I will administer the antidote without delay. I considered for a moment, then I said. My position is a terrible one, and I am inclined to accept your proposition. Under the circumstances it is the only chance. It is, replied Dr. Benson. I shall be at your service whenever you need me. I bade him good-bye, and quickly left the house. CHAPTER I. AT THE EDGE OF THE CREATOR PART II. It was now ten o'clock. My first object was to find Dr. Fieta, to speak to him boldly, and take the boy away by main force if necessary. I rushed back to the Grand Hotel, where I learned that a boy and a man answering to the description of Dr. Fieta and Cecil had breakfast there, but had gone out again immediately afterwards. The hadaspus I knew was to coal and would not leave Malta before one o'clock. My only chance therefore was to catch them as they came on board. Until then I could do nothing. At twelve o'clock I went down to the quay and took a boat to the hadaspus. Seeing no sign of Fieta and the boy on deck, I made my way at once to Lord Karn's cabin. The door was open and the place in confusion. Every vestige of baggage had disappeared, absolutely at a loss to divine the cause of this unexpected discovery. I pressed the electric bell. In a moment a steward appeared. Has Lord Karn left the ship? I asked, my heart beating fast. I believe so, sir, replied the man. I had orders to pack the luggage and send it on shore. It went about an hour ago. I waited to hear no more. Rushing to my cabin I began flinging my things palmel into my portmanteau. I was full of apprehension at this sudden move of Dr. Fieta's. Calling a steward who was passing to help me, I got my things on deck and in a few moments had them in a boat and was making rapidly for the shore. I drove back at once to the Grand Hotel in the Strada Real. Did the gentleman who came here today from the Hadaspis, accompanied by a little boy, engage rooms for the night? I asked of the proprietor in the bureau at the top of the stairs. No, sir, answered the man. They breakfasted here but did not return. I think they said they were going to the gardens of San Antonio. For a minute or two I paced the hall in uncontrollable excitement. I was completely at a loss what step to take next. Then suddenly an idea struck me. I hurried down the steps and made my way to Cook's office. A gentleman of that description took two tickets for Naples by the Spartavento, a Rupertino boat, two hours ago, said the clerk in answer to my inquiries. She has started by now, he continued, glancing up the clock. To Naples, I cried, a sickening fear seized me. The very name of that hated place struck me like a poisoned weapon. Is it too late to catch her? I cried. Yes, sir, she has gone. Then what is the quickest route by which I can reach Naples? You can go by the gingra at P&O boat to-night to Brindisi and then overland. That is the quickest way now. I at once took my passage and left the office. There was not the least doubt what had occurred. Dr. Fiede had missed his syringe, and in consequence had immediately altered his plans. He was now taking the lad to the very fountain-head of the Brotherhood, where other means if necessary would be employed to put an end to his life. It was nine o'clock in the evening, three days later, when from the windows of the railway carriage I caught my first glimpse of the glow on the summit of Vesuvius. During the journey I had decided on my line of action. Leaving my luggage in the cloakroom I entered a carriage and began to visit hotel after hotel. For a long time I had no success. It was past eleven o'clock that night when, weary and heart-sick, I drew up at the hotel long-dress. I went to the concierge with my usual question, expecting the invariable reply, but a glow of relief swept over me when the man said, Dr. Fiede is out, sir, but the young man is in. He is in bed. Will you call to-morrow? What name shall I say? I shall stay here, I answered. Let me have a room at once and have my bag taken to it. What is the number of Lord Carn's room? Number forty-six, but he will be asleep, sir, you cannot see him now. I made no answer, but going quickly upstairs I found the boy's room. I knocked, there was no reply. I turned the handle and entered. All was dark. Striking a match I looked round. In a white bed at the farther end lay the child. I went up and bent softly over him. He was lying with one hand beneath his cheek. He looked worn and tired, and now and then moaned as if in trouble. When I touched him lightly on the shoulder he started up and opened his eyes. A dazed expression of surprise swept over his face. Then was an eager cry he stretched out both his hands and clasped one of mine.  I very nearly cried when I missed you that morning at Malta. And Dr. Fiede said I should never see you any more. I don't like him. I am afraid of him.  As he spoke he glanced eagerly round in the direction of the door, clutching my hand still tighter as he did so. Yes, I shall take you home, Cecil. I have come for the purpose, I answered. But are you quite well? That's just it. I am not. I have awful dreams at night. Oh, I am so glad you have come back and you are not angry. Did you say you were really going to take me home? Tomorrow, if you like. Please do. I am stooped down. I want to whisper to you. I am dreadfully afraid of Dr. Fiede. What is your reason? I asked. There is no reason, answered the child. But somehow I dread him. I have done so ever since you left us at Malta. Once I woke in the middle of the night and he was bending over me.  And he used that syringe again. He was putting something into my arm. He told me it was Morphea. I did not want him to do it, for I thought you would rather he didn't. I wish Mother had sent me away with you. I am afraid of him. Yes, I am afraid of him. Now that I have come, everything will be right, I said. And you will take me home to-morrow? Certainly. But I should like to see Vesuvius first. Now that we are here it seems a pity that I should not see it. Can you take me to Vesuvius to-morrow morning and home in the evening? And will you explain to Dr. Frietta? I will explain everything. Now go to sleep. I am in the house and you have nothing whatever to fear. I am very glad you have come, he said wearily. He flung himself back on his pillow. The exhausted look was very manifest on his small, childish face. I left the room, shutting the door softly. To say that my blood boiled can express but little the emotions which ran through my frame. The child was in the hands of a monster.  I thought for a moment. There was nothing now for it but to see Frietta, tell him that I had discovered his machinations, claim the boy, and take him away by force. I knew that I was treading on dangerous ground. At any moment my own life might be forfeit for my supposed treachery to the cause whose vows I had so madly taken. Still, if I saved the boy nothing else really mattered. I went downstairs into the great central hall, interviewed the concierge, who told me that Frietta had returned, asked for the number of his private sitting-room, and going there opened the door without knocking. At a writing-table at the farther end sat the doctor. He turned as I entered, and recognizing me started up with a sudden exclamation.  Then, recovering himself, he advanced quietly towards me. This is another of your unexpected surprises, Mr. Head, he said with politeness. You have not, then, gone on to Cairo. You change your plans rapidly. Not more so than you do, Dr. Frietta. I replied, watching him as I spoke. I was obliged to change my mind, he answered. I heard in Malta that Calr had broken out in Cairo. I could not therefore take my patient there. May I inquire why I have the honour of this visit? You would excuse my saying so.  He stood with his hands behind him, and a look avert of vigilance crept into his small eyes. This is my reason, I replied. I boldly drew the hyperdermic syringe from my pocket as I spoke. With an inconceivably rapid movement he hurried past me, locked the door, and placed the key in his pocket. As he turned towards me again I saw the glint of a long bright stiletto which he had drawn and was holding in his right hand which he kept behind him. I see you are armed, I said quietly, but do not be too hasty. I have a few words to say to you. As I spoke I looked him full in the face. Then I dropped my voice. I am one of the brotherhood of the Seven Kings. When I uttered these magical words he started back and looked at me with dilated eyes.  He cried hoarsely. Beads of sweat gleamed upon his forehead. Put that weapon on the table, give me your right hand, and you shall have the proofs you need, I answered. He hesitated, then changed the stiletto to his left hand and gave me his right. I grasped it in the peculiar manner which I had never forgotten, and bent my head close to his. The next moment I had uttered the password of the brotherhood. La Regina, I whispered, ila Regina, he replied, flinging the stiletto on the carpet. Ah! he continued with an expression of the strongest relief, while he wiped the moisture from his forehead. This is too wonderful. And now tell me, my friend, what your missing is. I knew you had stolen my syringe, but why did you do it? Why did you not refill yourself to me before? You are, of course, under the Queen's orders. I am, I answered, and her orders to me now are to take Lord Karn home to England overland tomorrow morning. Very well. Everything is finished. He will die in one month. From Mediterranean fever? But it is not necessarily fatal, I continued. That is true. It is not always fatal acquired in the ordinary way, but by our methods it is so. Then you have administered more of the microorganisms since Malta? Yes. I had another syringe in my case, and now nothing can save him. The fever will commence in six days from now. He paused for a moment or two. It is very odd, he went on, that I should have had no communication. I cannot understand it. A sudden flash of suspicion shot across his dark face. My heart sank as I saw it. It passed, however, the next instant the man's words were courteous and quiet. I, of course, accede to your proposition, he said. Everything is quite a safe. This that I have done can never by any possibility be discovered. Madame is invincible. Have you yet seen a Lord Karn? Yes, and I have told him to be prepared to accompany me home to-morrow. Very well. Dr. Fierro walked across the room, unlocked the door, and threw it open.  I shall stay on here for a few days or more, as I have some private business to transact. Tonight I shall sleep in peace. Your shadow has been haunting me for the last three days. I went from Fietta's room to the boys. He was wide awake and started up when he saw me. I have arranged everything, Cecil, I said, and you are in my charge now. I mean to take you to my room to sleep. Oh! he answered, I am glad. Perhaps I shall sleep better in your room. I am not afraid of you. I love you. His eyes, bright with affection, looked into mine. I lifted him into my arms, wrapped his dressing-gound over his shoulders, and conveyed him through the folding doors, down the corridor, into the room I had secured for myself. There were two beds in the room, and I placed him in one. I am so happy, he said. I love you so much. Will you take me to Vesuvius in the morning and then home in the evening? I will see about that. Now go to sleep, I answered. He closed his eyes with a sigh of pleasure. In ten minutes he was sound asleep. I was standing by him when there came a knock at the door. I went to open it. A waiter stood without. He held a salver in his hand. It contained a letter, also a sheet of paper and an envelope, stamped in the name of the hotel. From the d'attore to be delivered to the signore, immediately, was the laconic remark. Still standing in the doorway, I took the letter from the tray, opened it, and read the following words. You have removed the boy, and that action arouses my mistrust. I doubt you're having received any communication from Madame. If you wish me to believe that you are a bona fide member of the Brotherhood, return the boy to his own sleeping-room immediately. I took a pencil out of my pocket, and hastily wrote a few words on the sheet of paper which had been sent for this purpose. I retain the boy. You are welcome to draw your own conclusions. Folding up the paper I slipped it into the envelope, and wetting the gum with my tongue fastened it together, and handed it to the waiter who withdrew. I re-entered my room and locked the door. To keep the boy was imperative, but there was little doubt that Fieta would now telegraph to Madame Calucci, the telegraphic office being open day and night, and find out the trick I was playing upon him. I considered whether I might not remove the boy there and then to another hotel, but decided that such a step would be useless. Once the emissaries of the Brotherhood were put upon my track, the case for the child and myself would be all but hopeless. There was likely to be little sleep for me that night. I paced up and down my lofty room. My thoughts were keen and busy. After a time, however, a strange confusion seized me. One moment I thought of the child, the next of Madame Calucci, and then again I found myself pondering some abstruse and comparatively unimportant point in science which I was perfecting at home. I shook myself free of these thoughts to walk about again, to pause by the bedside of the child, to listen to his quiet breathing. Perfect peace reigned over his little face. He had resigned himself to me, his terrors were things of the past, and he was absolutely happy.  I wondered what I was doing, and why I was anxious about the boy. Finally I sank upon the bed at the farther end of the room, for my limbs were tired and weighted with a heavy oppression. I would rest for a moment, but nothing would induce me to close my eyes. So I thought and flung myself back on my pillow. But the next instant all present things were forgotten in dreamless and heavy slumber. I awoke long hours afterwards to find the sunshine flooding the room, the window which led onto the balcony wide open and Cecil's bed empty. I sprang up with a cry. Memory returned with a flash. What had happened? Had Fietta managed to get in by means of the window? I had noticed the balcony outside the window on the previous night. The balcony of the next room was but a few feet distant from mine. It would be easy for anyone to enter there, spring from one balcony to the other, and so obtain access to my room. Doubtless this had been done. Why had I slept? I had firmly resolved to stay awake all night. In an instant I found the solution. Fietta's letter had been a trap. The envelope which he sent me contained poison on the gum. I had licked it and so received the fatal supperific. My heart beat wildly. I knew I had not an instant to lose. With hasty strides I went into Fietta's sitting-room. There was no one there. Into his bedroom, the door of which was open. It was also empty. I rushed into the hall. The gentleman and the little boy went out about half an hour ago, said the conchiers in answer to my inquiries. They have gone to Vesuvius a fine day for the trip. The man smiled as he spoke. My heart almost stopped. How did they go? I asked. A carriage, two horses, best way to go. In a second I was out in the Piazza del Municipio, hastily selecting a pair-horse carriage out of the group of importunate drivers. I jumped in. Vesuvius, I shouted, as hard as you can go. The man began to bargain. I thrust a roll of paper money into his hand. On receiving it he waited no longer, and we were soon dashing at a furious speed along the crowded ill-paved streets, scattering the pedestrians as we went. Down the Via Roma, and out on the Centilucia Que, away and away through endless labyrinths of noisome narrow streets, till at length we got into the more open country at the base of the burning mountain. Should I be in time to prevent the catastrophe which I dreaded? For I had been up that mountain before, and knew well the horrible danger at the crater's mouth. A slip, a push, and one would never be seen again. The ascent began, and the exhausted horses were beginning to fail. I leapt out, and giving the driver a sum which I did not wait to count, ran up the winding road of cinders and pumice that curves round beneath the observatory. My breath had failed me, and my heart was beating so hard that I could scarcely speak when I reached the station, where one takes ponies, to go over the new rough lava. An answer to my inquiries, Cook's agent told me, that Fietta and Cecil had gone on not a quarter of an hour ago. I shouted my orders, and flinging money right and left, I soon obtained a fleet pony and was galloping recklessly over the broken lava. Throwing the reins over the pony's head I presently jumped off, and ran up the little narrow path to the funicular wire-laid railway that takes passengers up the steep cone to the crater. Just gone on, sir, said a Cook's official, in answer to my question. But I must follow at once, I said excitedly, hurrying towards the little shed. The man stopped me. We don't take single passengers, he said. I will and must go alone, I said. I'll buy the car, and the railway, and you, and the mountain if necessary, but go I will. How much do you want to take me alone? One hundred francs, he said impertently, little thinking that I would agree to the bargain. Done, I replied. In astonishment he counted out the notes which I handed to him, and hurried at once into the shed. Here he rang an electric bell to have the car at the top started back, and getting into the empty car I began to ascend. Up and up and up. Soon I passed the empty car returning. How slowly we moved. My mouth was parched and dry, and I was in a fever of excitement. The smoke from the crater was close above me in great wreath. At last we reached the top. I leapt out, and without waiting for a guide made my way past, and rushed up the active cone, slipping in the shifting loose, gritty soil. When I reached the top a gale was blowing, and the scenery below, with the bay and Naples and Sorrento lay before me. The most magnificent panorama in the world. I had no time to glance at it, but hurried forward past crags of hot rock from which steam and sulfur were escaping. The wind was taking the huge volumes of smoke over to the farther side of the crater, and I could just catch sight of two figures as the smoke cleared for a moment. The figures were that of Fieta and the boy. They were evidently making a detour of the crater and had just entered the smoke. I heard a guide behind shout something to me in Italian, but I took no notice, and plunged at once into the blinding, suffocating smoke that came belching forth from the crater. I was now close behind Fieta and the boy. They held their handkerchiefs up to their faces to keep off the choking, sulfurous fumes, and had evidently not seen me. Their guide was ahead of them. Fieta was walking slowly. He was farthest away from the crater's mouth. The boy's hand was within his. The boy was nearest to the yawning gulf. A hot and choking blast of smoke blinded me for a moment and hid the pair from view. The next instant it passed. I saw Fieta suddenly turn, seize the boy, and push him towards the edge. Through the rumbling thunder that came from below I heard a sharp cry of terror, and bounding forward I just caught the lad as he reeled and hurled him away into safety. With a yell of baffled rage Fieta dashed through the smoke and flung himself upon me. I moved nimbly aside, and the doctor, carried on by the impetus of his rush, missed his footing in the crumbling ashes, and fell headlong down through the reeking smoke and steam into the fathomless, seething cauldron below. What followed may be told in a few words. That evening I sailed for Malto with the boy. Dr. Benson administered the antitoxin in time, and the child's life was saved. Within a fortnight I brought him back to his mother. It was reported that Dr. Fieta had gone mad at the edge of the crater, and in an excess of maniacal fury had first tried to destroy the boy and then flung himself in. I kept my secret. End of Chapter 1. My scientific pursuits no longer interested me. I returned to my house in Regent's Park, but only to ponder recent events. With the sanction of conscience I fully intended to be a traitor to the infamous brotherhood which, in a moment of mad folly, I had joined. From henceforth my object would be to expose Madame Calucci. By doing so my own life would be in danger. Nevertheless, my firm determination was not to leave a stone unturned to place this woman and her confederates in the felons-dock of an English criminal court. To effect this end one thing was obvious. Single-handed I could not work. I knew little of the law, and to expose a secret society like Madame Calucci's I must invoke the aid of the keenest and most able legal advisers. Colin de Freyre, the man I had just met before my hurried visit to Naples, was assuredly the person of all others for my purpose. He was one of the smartest lawyers in London. I went therefore one day to his office. I was fortunate in finding him in, and he listened to the story which I told him in confidence with the keenest attention. If this is true, head, he said, you yourself are in considerable danger. Yes, I answered.  I will enter the list against Madame Calucci. His face grew grave. Ferros lined his high and bald forehead, and knitted themselves together over his watchful, gray eyes. If any one but yourself had brought me such an incredible story-head, I should have thought him mad, he said at last. Of course, one knows that from time to time a great master in crime arises, and such justice at defiance. But that this woman should be the leader of a deliberately organized crusade against the laws of England is almost past my belief. Granted it is so, however, what do you wish me to do? Give me your help, I answered. Use your ingenuity. Employ your keenest agents, the most trusted and experienced officers of the law, to watch this woman day and night, and bring her and her accomplices to justice. I am a rich man, and I am prepared to devote both my life and my money to this great cause. When we have obtained a sufficient evidence, I continued, let us lay our information before the authorities. He looked at me thoughtfully. After a moment he spoke. What occurred in Naples has doubtless given the brotherhood a considerable shock, he said, and if Madame Colucci is as clever as you suppose her to be, she will remain quiet for the present. Your best plan, therefore, is to do nothing, and allow me to watch. She suspects you. She does not suspect me. That is certainly the case, I answered. Take a sea voyage, or do something to restore your equilibrium head, you look overexcited. So would you be if you knew the woman, and if you had just gone through my terrible experiences. Granted, but do not let this get on your nerves. Rest assure that I won't leave a stone unturned to convict the woman, and that when the right moment comes I will apply to you. I had to be satisfied with this reply, and soon afterwards I left Defraer. I spent a winter of anxiety during which time I heard nothing of Madame Colucci. Once again my suspicions were slumbering, and my attention was turned to that science, which was at once the delight and solace of my life, when in the May of the following year I received a note from Defraer. It ran as follows. My dear head, I have received an invitation both for you and myself to dine and sleep next Friday at Sir John Winton's place at Epsom. You are, of course, aware that his horse Ajax is the favorite for the Derby. Don't on any account refuse this invitation. Throw over all engagements for the sake of it. There is more in this than meets the eye. Yours sincerely, Colin Defraer. I wired back to Defraer to accept the invitation, and on the following Friday went down to Epsom in time for dinner. Defraer had arrived earlier in the day, and I had not yet had an opportunity of seeing him alone. When I entered the drawing room before dinner I found myself one of a large party. My host came forward to receive me. I happened to have met Sir John several times at his club in town, and he now signified his pleasure at seeing me in his house. A moment afterwards he introduced me to a bright-eyed girl of about nineteen years of age. Her name was Allison Carr.  I noticed, however, an anxious expression about her lips, and also that now and then, when engaged in the most animated conversation, she lost herself in a reverie of a somewhat painful nature. She would wake from these fits of inattention with an obvious start and a heightened color. I found she was to be my companion at dinner, and soon discovered that hers was an interesting, indeed delightful, personality. She knew the world and could talk well. Our conversation presently drifted to the great subject of the hour, Sir John Winton's cult, Ajax. He is a beauty, cried the girl. I love him for himself, as who would not who had ever seen him. But if he wins the derby, why, then my gratitude, she paused and clasped her hands, then drew herself up, coloring. Are you very much interested in the result of the race? I could not help asking. All my future turns on it, she said, dropping her voice to a low whisper. I think, she continued, Mr. Dufreyr intends to confide in you. I know something about you, Mr. Head, for Mr. Dufreyr has told me. I am so glad to meet you. I cannot say any more now, but my position is one of great anxiety. Her words somewhat surprised me. But I could not question her further at that moment. Later on, however, when we returned to the drawing-room, I approached her side. She looked up eagerly when she saw me. I have been all over Europe this summer, she said gaily. Don't you want to see some of my photographs? She motioned me to a seat near her side, and taking up a book opened it. We bent over the photographs. She turned the pages, talking eagerly.  What is the matter, I asked. She did not speak for a moment, but I noticed that the moisture stood on her forehead. Presently she gave a sigh of relief. It has passed, she said. Yes, I suffer in my head an indescribable agony, but it does not last now more than a moment or two. At one time the pain used to stay for nearly an hour, and I was almost crazy at the end. I have had the sharp sort of neuralgic pains from a child, but since I have consulted Madame Colucci. I started. She looked up at me and nodded. Of course you have heard of her, she said. Who has not? She has quite the most wonderful, delightful woman in existence. She indeed is a doctor to have confidence in. I understand that the men of the profession are mad with jealousy, and small wonder her cures are so marvellous. Yes, Mr. Head, I went to quite half a dozen of our greatest doctors, and they could do nothing for me. But since I have been to Madame Colucci the pain comes but seldom, and when it does arise from any cause it quickly subsides. I have much to thank her for. Have you ever seen her? Yes, I replied. And don't you like her? continued the girl eagerly. Is she not beautiful? The most beautiful woman in the world? Perhaps you have consulted her for your health. She has a great many men patients. I made no reply. Miss Carr continued to speak with great animation. It is not only her beauty which impresses me, she said. It is also her power.  When I am away from her I must confess I am restless. It is as though she hypnotized me, and yet she has never done so. I long to go back to her, even when she hesitated and trembled. Someone came up, and commonplace subjects of conversation resumed their sway. That evening, late, I joined to Frayer in the smoking-room. We found ourselves alone, and I began to speak at once. You asked me to come here for a purpose, I said. Miss Carr, the girl whom I took into dinner, further told me that you had something to communicate. What is the matter? Sit down, head, I have much to tell you. By the way, I continued as I sank into the nearest chair. Do you know that Miss Carr is under the influence of Madame Colucci? I know it, and before I can go any further tell me what you think of her. She is a handsome girl, I replied, and I should say a good one, but she seems to have trouble. She hinted at such, and in any case I observed it in her face and manner. You are right. She is suffering from a very considerable anxiety. I will explain all that to you presently. Now, please give your best attention to the following details. It is about a month ago that I first received a visit from Frank Calthorpe, Sir John Winton's nephew, and the junior partner of Bruce Nicholson and Calthorpe, the great stock-jobbers in Garrick Gardens. I did some legal business for his firm some years ago, but the matter on which Calthorpe came to see me was not one connected with his business, but of a purely private character. Am I to hear what it is?  Frank Calthorpe is engaged to Miss Carr. Indeed, the engagement is of three months date. When are they to be married? That altogether depends on whether Sir John Winton's favorite Ajax wins the Derby or not. What do you mean? To explain, I must tell you something of Miss Carr's early history. I sat back in my chair and prepared to listen. To Frayer spoke slowly. About a year ago, he began, Allison Carr lost her father. She was then eighteen years of age and still at school. Her mother died when she was five years old. The father was a West Indian merchant and had made his money slowly and with care. When he died he left a hundred thousand pounds behind him and an extraordinary will. The girl whom you met tonight was his only child. Henry Carr, Allison's father, had a brother, Felix Carr, a clergyman. In his will, Henry made his brother, Allison's sole guardian and also his own residuary legatee. The interest of the hundred thousand pounds was to be devoted altogether to the girl's benefit, but the capital was only to come into her possession on certain conditions. She was to live with her uncle and receive the interest of the money as long as she remained single. After the death of the uncle she was still, provided she was unmarried to receive the interest during her lifetime. At her death the property was to go to Felix Carr's eldest son or in case he was dead to his children. Provided, however, Allison married according to the conditions of the will, the whole of the hundred thousand pounds was to be settled on her and her children. The conditions were as follows. The man who married Allison was to settle a similar sum of one hundred thousand upon her and her children and he was also to add the name of Carr to his own. Failing the fulfillment of these two conditions, Allison if she married, was to lose the interest and capital of her father's fortune, the whole going to Felix Carr for his life and after him to his eldest son. On this point the girl's father seems to have had a crank. He was often heard to say that he did not intend to amass gold in order to provide luxuries for a stranger. Let the man who marries Allison put pound to pound, he would cry. That's fair enough, otherwise the money goes to my brother. Since her father's death Allison has had one or two proposals from elderly men of great wealth, but she naturally would not consider them. When she became engaged, however, to Calthorpe, he had every hope that he would be able to fulfill the strange conditions of the will and meet her fortune with an equal sum on his own account. The engagement is now a three month state and here comes the extraordinary part of the story. Calthorpe, like most of his kind, is a speculator and has large dealings both in stocks and shares and on the turf. He is a keen sportsman. Now, pray listen. Hitherto he has always been remarkable for his luck, which has been, of course, as much due to his own common sense as anything else, but since his engagement to Miss Carr, his financial ventures have been so persistently disastrous, and his loss is so heavy, that he is practically now on the verge of ruin. Several most remarkable and unaccountable things have happened recently, and it is now almost certain that someone with great resources has been using his influence against him. You will naturally say that the person whose object it would be to do so is Allison's uncle, but beyond the Vegas suspicion there is not the slightest evidence against him. He has been interested in the engagement from the first, and preparations have even been made for the wedding. It is true that Allison does not like him, and resents very much the clause in the will which compels her to live with him, but as far as we can tell he has always been systematically kind to her, and takes the deepest interest in Calthorpe's affairs. Day by day, however, these affairs grow worse and worse. About a fortnight ago Calthorpe actually discovered that shares were being held against him, on which he was paying enormous differences, and had finally to buy them back a tremendous loss. The business was done through a broker, but the identity of his client is a mystery. We now come to his present position, which is a most crucial one. Next Wednesday is the Derby Day, and Calthorpe hopes to retrieve his losses by a big coup, as he has backed Ajax at an average price of five to two in order to win one hundred thousand on the horse alone. He has been quietly getting his money on during the last two months through a lot of different commission agents. If he secures this big haul he will be in a position to marry Allison, and his difficulties will be at an end. If, on the other hand, the horse is beaten, Calthorpe is ruined. What are the chances for the horse? I asked. As far as I can tell they are splendid. He is a magnificent creature, a bay cult with black points, and comes of splendid stock. His grand sire was Colonel Gillingham's trumpeter, who was the champion of his year, winning the Derby, the two thousand guineas, and St. Leisure. There is not a three-year-old with such a fashionable ancestry as Ajax, and Sir John Winton is confident that he will follow their glorious record. Have you any reason to suspect Madame Colucci in this matter? I asked. None. Without doubt Calthorpe possesses an enemy, but who that enemy is remains to be discovered. His natural enemy would be Felix Carr, but to all appearance the man has not moved a finger against him. Felix is well off, too, on his own account, and it is scarcely fair to suspect him of the wish to deliberately ruin his niece's prospects and her happiness. On the other hand, such a series of disasters would not happen to Calthorpe without a cause, and we have got to face that fact. Madame Colucci would, of course, be capable of doing the business, but we cannot find that Felix Carr even knows her. His niece does, I cried. She consults her. She is under her care. I know that, and have followed up the clue very carefully, said Defraer. Of course, the fact that Allison visits her two or three times a week, and in all probability confines in her fully, makes it all important to watch her carefully. That fact, with the history which you have unfolded of Madame Colucci, makes it essential that we should take her into our calculations, but up to the present there is not a breath of suspicion against her. All turns on the derby. If Ajax wins, whoever the person is who is Calthorpe's secret enemy will have his foul purpose defeated. Early the following morning Sir John Wynton took Defraer and myself to the training stables. Miss Carr accompanied us. The cult was brought out for inspection, and I had seldom seen a more magnificent animal. He was, as Defraer had described him, a bright bay with black points. His broad forehead, brilliant eyes, black muzzle, and expanded nostrils proclaimed the Arab in his blood, while the long, light body with the elongated limbs were essentially adapted for the maximum development of speed. As the spirited creature curved it and pranced before us, our admiration could scarcely be kept in bounds. Miss Carr, in particular, was almost feverishly excited. She went up to the horse and patted him on his forehead. I heard her murmur something low into his ear. The creature turned his large and beautiful eye upon her, as if he understood. He further responded to the girl's caress by pushing his nose forward for her to stroke. I have no doubt whatever of the result, said Sir John Winton as he walked round and round the animal, examining his points and emphasizing his perfections. If Ajax does not win the derby I shall never believe in a horse again. He then spoke in a low tone to the trainer, who nodded. The horse was led back to his stables, and we returned to the house. As we crossed the downs I found myself by Miss Carr's side. Yes, she exclaimed, looking up at me, her eyes sparkling. Ajax is safe to win. Has Mr. Dufreyr confided in you, Mr. Head? He has, I answered. Do you understand my great anxiety? I do, but I think you may rest assured. If I am any judge of a horse, the favourite is sure to win the race. I wish Frank could hear you, she cried. He is terribly nervous.  Of course I would marry him gladly, and will, without any fortune, if the worse comes to worse. But there will be no worst, she continued brightly, for Ajax will save us both. Here she paused and pulled out her watch. I did not know it was so late, she exclaimed. I have an appointment with Madame Colucci this morning. I must ask Sir John to send me to the station at once. She hurried forward to speak to the old gentleman, and Dufreyr and I fell behind. Soon afterwards we all returned to London, and on the following Monday I received a telegram from Dufreyr. Come to dinner, seven o'clock, important, was his brief message. I responded in the affirmative, and at the right hour drove off to Dufreyr's flat in Shaftesbury Avenue, arriving punctual to the moment. I have asked Calthorpe to meet you, exclaimed Dufreyr, coming forward when I appeared. His ill luck dogs him closely, if the horse loses he is absolutely ruined. His concealed enemy becomes more active as the crucial hour approaches. Ah, here he comes to speak for himself. The door was thrown open, and Calthorpe was announced. Dufreyr introduced him to me, and the next moment we went into the dining-room. I watched him with interest. He was a fair man, somewhat slight in build, with a long, thin face and a heavy mustache. He wore a worried and anxious look, painful to witness. His age must have been about twenty-eight years. During dinner he looked across at me several times, with an expression of the most intense curiosity, and as soon as the meal had come to an end, turned the conversation to the topic that was uppermost in all our minds. Dufreyr has told me about you, Mr. Head. You are in his confidence, and therefore in mine. Be assured of my keen interest, I answered. I know how much you have staked on the favorite. I saw the cult on Saturday. He is a magnificent creature, and I should say is safe to win. That is, I paused and looked full into the young man's face. Would it not be possible for you to hedge on the most advantageous terms, I suggested? I see the price to-night is five to four. Yes, and I could win thirty thousand either way if I could negotiate the transaction, but that would not affect my purpose. You have heard, I know, from Dufreyr all about my engagement, and the strange conditions of old Carr's will. There is no doubt that I possess a concealed enemy whose object is to ruin me, but if Ajax wins I could obtain sufficient credit to write myself, and also to fulfill the conditions of Carr's will. Yes, I will stand to it now, every penny. The horse can win, and by God he shall. As he spoke, Calthor brought on his fist with a blow on the table that set the glasses dancing. A glance was sufficient to show that his nerves were strung up to the highest pitch, and that a little more excitement would make him scarcely answerable for his actions. I have already given you my advice on this matter, said Dufreyr, in a grave tone. He turned and faced the young man as he spoke. I would say, emphatically, choose the thirty thousand now and get out of it. You have plunged far too heavily in this matter. As to your present run of ill luck it will turn, depend upon it. And it is only a question of time.  In the long run you will be able to fulfill the strange conditions which Carr has enjoined on his daughter's future husband, and if I know Allison aright, she will be willing to wait for you. If, on the other hand, you lose, all is lost. It is the ancient adage, a bird in the hand. It would be a dead crow, he interrupted excitedly, and I want a golden eagle. Two hectic spots burned his pale cheeks, and the glitter in his eyes showed how keen was the excitement which consumed him. I saw my uncle this morning, he went on. Of course, Sir John knows my position well, and there is no expense spared to guard and watch the horse. He is never left day or night by old entrusted grooms in the training stables. Whoever my enemy may be, I defy him to tamper with the horse. By the way, you must come down to see the race, Dufreyr. I insist upon it, and you too, Mr. Head, yes, I should like you both to be there in the hour of my great success. I saw Rushton the trainer to-day, and he says the race is all over, bar shouting. This was Monday night, and the following Wednesday was Derby Day. On the next evening, impelled by an uncontrollable desire to see Calforpe, I called a handsome, and gave the driver the name of his club. I felt certain that I should find him there. When I arrived the porter told me that he was in the house, and sending up my card, I went across to the tape machine, which was ticking away under its glass case in the hall. Two or three men were standing beside it, chatting. The Derby prices had just come through, and a page boy was tearing the tape into lengths and pinning them on a green bay's board in the hall. I glanced hurriedly through them. Evens, Ajax, four to one bright star, eleven to two midge, eight to one day dawn. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and Calforpe stood beside me. I was startled at his appearance. There was a haggard, wild look in his eyes. It seems to be all right, I said cheerfully. I see Ajax has gone off a point since this morning, but I suppose that means nothing. Oh, nothing! he replied. There has been a pot of money going on bright star all day. But the favourite can hold the field from start to finish. I saw him this morning, and he is as fit as possible. Rushed in, the trainer says he absolutely can't lose. A small, dark man in evening dress approached us, and overheard Calforpe's last remark. I'll have a level monkey about that if you like, Mr. Calforpe, he said in a low, nasal voice. It's a wager, retorted Calforpe, drawing out his pocketbook with silver-bound edges and entering the bed. I'll make it a thousand if you like, he added, looking up. With pleasure, cried the little man. Does your friend fancy anything? No, thank you, I replied. The man turned away and went back to his companions. Who is that fellow? I asked of Calforpe. Oh, a very decent little chap. He's on the stock exchange and makes a pretty big book on his own account. So I should think, I replied. Why do you suppose he wants to lay against Ajax? Hedging, I should imagine, answered Calforpe carelessly. One thousand, one way or another, cannot make any difference now. He had scarcely said the words before Defraer entered the hall. I've been looking for you, Hed, he said, just not into Calforpe as he spoke, and coming up to my side.  I want to speak to you. Can you come with me? Anything wrong? asked Calforpe uneasily. I hope not, replied Defraer, but I want to have a word with Hed. I will see you presently, Calforpe. He linked his hand through my arm, and we left the club. What is it, I asked, the moment we got into the street. I want you to come to my flat. Ms. Carr is there, and she wishes to see you. Ms. Carr is at your flat, and she wishes to see me? She does. You will soon know all about it, Hed. Here, let us get into this handsome. He hailed one which was passing. We got into it and drove quickly to Shaftesbury Avenue. Defraer let himself into his rooms with a latch key, and the next moment I found myself in Allison's presence. She started up when she saw the lawyer and myself. Now, Ms. Carr, said to Defraer, shutting the door, hey silly, we have not a moment to lose. Will you kindly repeat the story to Hed, which you have just told me? But is there anything to be really frightened about? She asked. I do not know of any one who can judge of that better than Mr. Hed. Tell him everything, please, and at once. Thus adjured, the girl began to speak. I went as usual to Madam Cluchy this afternoon. She began. Her treatment does me a great deal of good. She was even kinder than usual. I believe her to be possessed of a sort of second sight. When she assured me that Ajax would win the Derby, I felt so happy that I laughed in my glee. She knows, no one better, how much this means to me. I was just about to leave her when the door of the consulting room was opened, and who should appear standing on the threshold but my uncle, the Reverend Felix Carr? There is no love loss between my uncle and myself, and I could not help uttering a cry, half of fear and half of astonishment. I could see that he was equally startled to see me. What in the name of fortune has brought you to Madam Cluchy? he cried. Madam rose in her usual stately way and went forward to meet him. Your niece, Allison, is quite an old patient of mine, she said. But did you not receive my telegram? No, I left home before it arrived, he answered. The pains grew worse, and I felt I must see you. I have taken a terrible cold on the journey. As he spoke he took his handkerchief out of his pocket and sneezed several times. He continued to stand on the threshold of the room. Well, good-bye, Allison. Keep up your courage! cried Madam Cluchy. She kissed me on my forehead, and I left. Uncle Felix did not take any further notice of me. The moment I went out the door of the consulting room was closed, and the first thing I saw in the corridor was a torn piece of letter. It lay on the floor and must have dropped out of Uncle Felix's pocket. I recognized the handwriting to be that of Madam Cluchy. I picked it up, and these words met my eyes. Inocuous to man, but fatal to the horse. I could not read any further, as the letter was torn across and the other half not in my possession, but the words frightened me, although I did not understand them. I became possessed with a dreadful sense of depression. I hurried out of the house. I was so much at home with Madam Cluchy now that I could go in and out as much as I pleased. I drove straight to see you, Mr. Defrayer. I hoped you would set my terrors at rest, for surely Ajax cannot be the horse alluded to. The words haunt me. But there is nothing in them, is there? Please tell me so, Mr. Head. Please allay my fears. May I see the torn piece of paper? I asked gravely. The girl took it out of her pocket and handed it to me. You don't mind if I keep this? I said. No, certainly. But is there any cause for alarm? I hoped none. But you did well to consult Defrayer. Now I have something to ask you. What is that? Do not repeat what you were good enough to tell Defrayer and me to Calfor. Why so? Because it would give him needless anxiety. I am going to take the matter up, and I trust all will be well. Keep your own counsel. Do not tell what you have just told us to another living soul, and now I must ask you to leave us. Her face grew wider than ever. Her anxious eyes traveled from my face to Defrayer's. I will see you to a handsome, I said. I took her downstairs, put her into one, and returned to the lawyer's presence. I am glad you sent for me, Defrayer, I answered. Don't you see how grave all this is? If Ajax wins the derby, the Reverend Felix Carr, I know nothing about his character remember, will lose the interest on one hundred thousand pounds, and the further chance of the capital being secured to his son. You see that it would be very much to the interest of the Reverend Felix if Ajax loses the derby. Then why does he consult Madame Colucci? The question of health is surely a mere blind. I confess, I do not like the aspect of affairs at all. That woman has science at her finger's ends. I shall go down immediately to Epson, and insist on Sir John Winton, allowing me to spend the night in the training stables. I believe you are doing the right thing, answered Defrayer. You, who know Madame Colucci well, are armed at a thousand points. I shall start at once, I said. I bade Defrayer good-bye, hailed a handsome, desired the man to drive me to Victoria Station, and took the next train to Epson. End of Part 1 of Chapter 2. Chapter 2 Part 2 of The Brotherhood of the Seven Kings This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Brotherhood of the Seven Kings by L. T. Meade and Robert Eustis. Chapter 2 The Winged Assassin Part 2 I arrived at Sir John Winton's house about ten o'clock. He was astonished to see me. And when I begged his permission to share the company of the groom in the training stables that night, he seemed inclined to resent my intrusion. I did not wish to betray Allison, but I repeated my request with great firmness. I have a grave reason for making it, I said. But one which at the present moment is best for me not to disclose. Much depends on this race. From the events which have recently transpired there is little doubt that Calforpe has a secret enemy. For warned is for armed. Will you share my watch tonight in the training stables, Sir John? Certainly. He answered, I do not see that you have any cause for alarm, but under the circumstances and in the face of the mad way that nephew of mine has plunged, I cannot put a seed to your request. We will go together. We started to walk across the downs. As we did so, Sir John became somewhat garrulous. I thought Allison would have come by your train, he said, but have just had a telegram asking me not to expect her. She is probably spending the night with Madame Colucci. By the wayhead, what a charming woman that is. Do you know her? I asked. She was down here on Sunday. Allison begged me to invite her. We all enjoyed her company immensely. She has a wonderful knowledge of horses. In fact, she seems to know all about everything. Has she seen Ajax? I asked. My heart sank. I could not tell why. Yes, I took her to the stables. She was interested in all the horses and above all in Ajax. She is certain he will win the derby. I said nothing further. We arrived at the stables. Sir John and I spent a wakeful night. Early in the morning I asked to be allowed to examine the cult. He appeared in excellent condition and the groom stood by him admiring him, praising his points and speaking about the certain result of the day's race. Here is the derby winner, he said, clapping Ajax on his glossy side. He'll win the race by a good three lengths. By the way, I hope he won't be off his feet this morning. Off his feet, exclaimed Sir John, what do you mean? What I say, sir, we couldn't get the cult to touch his food last night, although we tempted him with all kinds of things. There ain't nothing in it, I know, and he seems all right now, don't he? Try him with a carrot, said Sir John. The man brought a carrot and offered it to the creature. He turned away from it and fixed his large, bright eyes on Sir John's face. I fancied there was suffering in them. Sir John seemed to share my fears. He went up to the horse and examined it critically, feeling its nose and ears. Tell Saunders to step across, he said, turning to the groom. He mentioned a veterinary surgeon who lived close by. And look, you hear, Dan, keep your own counsel. If so much as a word of this gets out, you may do untold mischief. No fear of me, sir, said the man. He rushed off to fetch Saunders, who soon appeared. The veterinary surgeon was a thickly built man with an intelligent face. He examined the horse carefully, taking his temperature, feeling him all over, and finally stepping back with a satisfied smile. There is nothing to be alarmed about, Sir John, he said. The cold is in perfect health. Let him have a mash presently with some crushed corn in it. I'll look in it a couple of hours, but there is nothing wrong. He says fit is possible. As the man left the stables, Sir John uttered a profound yawn. I confess I had a moment's fright, he said. But I believe it was more from your manner than anything else, Mr. Head. Well, I am sleepy. Won't you come back to the house and let me offer you a shakedown? No, I replied. I want to return to town. I can catch an early train if I started once. He shook hands with me, and I went to the railway station. The oppression and apprehension at my heart got worse moment by moment. For what object had Madame Colucci visited the stables? What was the meaning of that mysterious writing which I had in my pocket? Inocuous to man, but fatal to the horse. What did the woman with her devilish ingenuity mean to do? Something bad. I had not the slightest doubt. I called it to Freyja's flat and gave him an account of the night's proceedings. I don't like the aspect of affairs, but God grant my fears are grandless, I cried. The horse is off his feed, but Sir John and the vet are both assured there is nothing whatever the matter with him. Madame Colucci was at the stables on Sunday, but after all what could she do? We must keep the thing dark from Calthorpe, and trust for the best. At a quarter to twelve that day I found myself at Victoria. When I arrived on the platform I saw Calthorpe and Ms. Carr coming to meet me. De Freyja also, a moment afterwards, made his appearance. Ms.  Calthorpe, on the contrary, seemed to have recovered a good bit of nerve and to be in a sanguine mood. We took our seats and the train started for Epsom. As we alighted at the down station, a man in livery hurried up to Calthorpe. Sir John is in the paddock, sir, he said, touching his hat. He sent me to you, and says he wishes to see you at once, sir, and also, Mr. Head. The man spoke breathlessly and seemed very much excited. Very well, tell him we'll both come, replied Calthorpe. He turned to De Freyja. Will you take charge of Allison? He said. Calthorpe and I moved off at once. What can be the matter? cried the young man. Nothing wrong, I hope. What is that? he cried the next instant. The enormous crowd was increasing moment by moment, and the din that rose from Tatter Soul's ring seemed to me unusually loud, so early in the day's proceedings.  Good God! Did you hear that? he cried, dashing forward. I followed him quickly. The ring was buzzing like an infuriated beehive, and the men in it were hurrying to and fro as if possessed by the very madness of excitement. It was an absolute pandemonium. The stentorian tones of a brass voice bookmaker close beside us fell upon my ears. Here I'll bet five to one Ajax, five to one Ajax. The voice was suddenly drowned in the deafening clamor of the crowd. The air seemed to swell with the uproar. Were my worst fears confirmed? I felt stunned and sick. I turned round. Calthorpe had vanished. Several smart drags were drawn up beside the railings. I glanced up at the occupants of the one beside me, from the box seat looking down at me with the amused smile of a spectator sat Madame Colucci. As I caught her eyes, I thought I detected a flash of triumph, but the next moment she smiled and bowed gracefully.  Even your infatuated devotion to your scientific pursuits cannot restrain you from attending your characteristic national fete. Can you tell me what has happened? Those men seem to have suddenly gone mad. Is that a part of the programme? Inocuous to men, but fatal to the horse, was my strange reply. I looked her full in the face. The long lashes covered her brilliant eyes for one flashing moment, then she smiled at me more serenely than ever. I will guess your enigma when the derby is won, she said. I raised my hat and hurried away. I had seen enough. Suspicion was changed into certainty. The next moment I reached the paddock. I saw Calthorpe engaged in earnest conversation with his uncle. It's all up, Head, he said when he saw me.  I tell you the thing is impossible. I don't believe there's anything the matter with the horse. Let the ring play their own game. It is nothing to us. Damn the market! I tell you what it is, Frank. When you plunged as you did, you would deserve it if the horse fell dead on the course. But he won't. He'll win by three lengths. There's not another horse in the race. Calthorpe muttered some inaudible reply and turned away. I accompanied him. What is the matter, I asked, as we left the paddock. Saunders is not satisfied with the state of the horse. His temperature has gone up, but there my uncle will see nothing wrong. Well, it will be over soon. For God's sake, don't let us say anything to Allison. Not a word, I replied. We reached the grandstand. Allison's earnest and apprehensive eyes traveled from her lover's face to mine. Calthorpe went up to her, an endeavour to speak cheerfully. I believe it's all right, he said. Sir John says so, and he ought to know. It will be all decided one way or another soon. Look, the first race is starting. We watched it, and the one that followed, hardly caring to know the name of the winner. The derby was timed for three o'clock. It only wanted three minutes to the hour. The ring below was seething with excitement. Calthorpe was silent, now gazing over the course with the vacant expression of a man in a daydream. Bright Star was a hot favourite at even money. Against Ajax, five to one rang out a monotonous insistence. There was a sudden lull. The flag had fallen. The moments that followed seemed like years of pain. There was much senseless cheering and shouting, a flash of bright colours, and the race was over. Bright Star had won. Ajax had been pulled up at Tattinham Corner and was being led by his jockey. Twenty minutes later, Dufreyer and I were in the horse's stable. Will you allow me to examine the horse for a moment? I asked to the veterinary surgeon. It will want some experience to make out what is the matter, replied Saunders. It's beyond me. I entered the box and examined the cult carefully. As I did so, the meaning of Madame Calucci's words became plain. Too late now to do anything. The race was lost and the horse was doomed. I looked around me. Has anyone been bitten in this stable, I asked? Bitten, cried one of the grooms. Why, I say to Sam last night, he apostrifies the stable boy, that there must be gnats about. See my arm, it's all inflamed. Hold, I cried. What is that on your sleeve? A house-fly, I suppose, sir, he answered. Stand still, I cried. I put out my hand and captured the fly. Give me a glass, I said. I must examine this. One was brought, and the fly put under it. I looked at it carefully. It resembled the ordinary house-fly, except the wings were longer. Its color was like an ordinary humming-bee. I killed the fly like that this morning, said Sam, the stable boy, pushing his head forward. When did you say you were first bitten, I asked, turning to the groom? A day or two ago, he replied, I was bitten by a gnat. I don't rightly know the time. Sam, you was bitten, too. We couldn't catch it, and we wondered that gnats should be about so early in the year. It has nothing to do with the horse, has it, sir? I motioned to the veterinary surgeon to come forward, and once more we examined Ajax. He now showed serious and unmistakable signs of malaise. Can you make anything out? asked Saunders. With this fly before me there is little doubt, I replied. The horse will be dead in ten days, nothing can save him. He has been bitten by the titsi-fly of South Africa. I know it only too well. My news fell on the bystanders like a thunderbolt. Inocuous to man, but fatal to the horse, I found myself repeating. The knowledge of this fact had been taken advantage of. The devilish ingenuity of the plot was revealed. In all probability Madam Kaluchi herself had let the wing the sass in loose when she had entered the stables on Sunday. The plot was worthy of her brain and hers alone. You had better look after the other horses, I said, turning to the grooms. If they have not been bitten already, they had better be removed from the stables immediately. As for Ajax, he is doomed. Late that evening Dufreyer dined with me alone. Pity for Cal Thorpe was only exceeded by our indignation and almost fear of Madam Kaluchi. What is to happen? asked Dufreyer. Cal Thorpe is a brave man and will recover, I said. He will win Miss Carr yet. I am rich, and I mean to help him, if for no other reason than in order to defeat that woman.  I doubted, I replied. The risk is not worth running. If we failed, the woman would leave the country, to return again in more dangerous skies. No, Dufreyer, we must bide our time, until we get such a case against her, as will secure conviction, without the least doubt. At least, cried Dufreyer, what happened today has shown me the truth of your words. It has also brought me to a decision. For the future I shall work with you, not as your employed legal advisor, but hand in hand against the horrible power and machinations of that woman. We will meet wit with wit, until we bring her to the justice she deserves. CHAPTER III. THE SWING OF THE PENGELUM. There was now little doubt that Madam Kaluchi knew herself to be in personal danger. On the derby day I had thrown down the gauntlet with a vengeance. Her object henceforth would be to put me out of the way. I lived in an atmosphere of intangible mystery, which was all the darker and more horrible, because it was felt, not seen.  He employed the cleverest and most up-to-date detectives to have her secretly watched, and from time to time they brought us their reports. Clue after clue arose. Each clue was carefully followed, but it invariably led to disappointing results. Madam eluded every effort to bring a definite charge against her. The money we were spending, however, was not entirely in vain. We learned that her influence and the wide range of her acquaintances were far beyond what we had originally surmised. Her fame as a healer, her marvellous and occult cures, the reputation of her great wealth and dazzling beauty increased daily, and I was certain that before long I should meet her in the lists. The encounter was destined to come sooner even than I had anticipated and in a manner most unexpected. It was the beginning of the following November that I received an invitation to dine with an old friend, Harry DeBret. He was several years my senior and had recently succeeded to his father's business in the city, an old established firm of bankers whose house was in St. Mark's Court, Grace Church Street. Only a few days previously I had seen it announced in the Society Papers that a marriage had been arranged between DeBret's only daughter, Geraldine, and the Duke of Friedek, a foreign nobleman whose name I had seen figuring prominently at many a function the previous season. I had known Geraldine since she was a child and was glad to have an opportunity of offering my congratulations. At the appointed hour I found myself at DeBret's beautiful house in Bayswater and Geraldine, who was standing near her father, came eagerly forward to welcome me. She was a pretty and very young girl with a clear olive complexion and soft dark eyes. She had the innocent and naive manner of a schoolgirl. She was delighted to see me and began to talk eagerly. Come and stand by this window, Mr. Head. I am so glad you were able to come. I want to introduce you to Carl, the Duke of Friedek, I mean. He will be here in a minute or two. As she spoke, she dropped her voice to a semi-whisper. You know, of course, that we are to be married soon. She continued. I have heard of the engagement, I answered, and I congratulate you heartily. I should like very much to meet the Duke. His name is, of course, familiar to anyone who reads the society papers. He is anxious to make your acquaintance also, she replied. I told him you were coming, and he said—she paused. But surely the Duke of Friedek has never heard of me before, I answered in some surprise. I think he has, she answered. He was quite excited when I spoke of you. I asked him if he had met you. He said no, but that you were very well known in scientific circles as a clever man. The Duke is a great scientist himself, Mr. Head, and I know he would like to have a chat with you. I am certain you will be friends. Just at that moment the Duke was announced. He was a tall and handsome man of about five and thirty, with the somewhat floored complexion, blue eyes, and fair curling hair of the two-ton. He was well dressed and had the indescribable air of good breeding which proclaims the gentleman. I looked at him with much curiosity, being puzzled by an intangible memory of having seen his face before, where and how I could not tell. Geraldine tripped up to him and brought him to my side. Carl, she cried, this is my friend, Mr. Head. Don't you remember we talked about him this morning? Friedek bowed. I am glad to make your acquaintance, he said to me. Yours is a name of distinction in the world of science. That can scarcely be the case, I answered. It is true I am fond of original research, but up to the present I have worked for my own pleasure alone. Nevertheless the world has whispered of you, he replied, I too am fond of science, and have lost myself more than once in its tortuous mazes. I have lately started a laboratory of my own, but just now other matters. He broke off abruptly, and glanced at Geraldine, who smiled and blushed. Dinner was announced. I happened to sit not far from the guest of the evening, and noticed that he was a good conversationalist. There was scarcely a subject mentioned on which he had not something to say, and on more than one occasion his repartee was brilliant, and his remarks touched with humor. Geraldine, in her white dress, with her soft, rather sad eyes, her manner at once bright, sweet, and timid, made a contrast to this astute-looking man of the world. I glanced from one to the other, and an uneasiness which I could scarcely account for sprang up within me, notwithstanding his handsome appearance and his easy and courteous manner, I wondered if this man, nearly double her age, was likely to make the pretty English girl happy. As dinner progressed I observed that the Duke often took the trouble to look at me. I also noticed that whenever our eyes met he turned away. How was it possible for him to have heard of me before? Although I was a scientist, my researches were unknown to the world. I determined to take the first opportunity of solving this mystery. Soon after eleven o'clock the guests took their leave, and I was just about to follow their example, when DeBrette asked me to have a pipe with him in his smoking-room. As we seated ourselves by the fire he began to talk at once of his future son-in-law. He is a capital fellow, is he not, head, exclaimed my host. I hope you have formed a favorable opinion of him. I never form an opinion quickly, I answered with caution. The Duke of Friedek is certainly distinguished in appearance, and, oh you are too cautious, cried DeBrette in some irritation. You may take my word for it that he is all right. This is a great catch for my little girl. Of course she will have plenty of money on her own account, but the Duke is not only of high family, he is also rich. He comes from Bavaria, and his title is absolutely genuine. Soon after the great Duke of Marlborough's wars, and almost immediately after the battle of Blenheim, the Austrian government took possession of the Dukedom of Friedek, and until lately the family have remained in exile. It was only a year ago that the present Duke regained his rights and all the great estates. He was introduced to us by no less a person than Madame Colucci. Ah! I see you start. You have heard of her, of course. Who has not? I replied. Do you know her? I have met her, I said. It was only with an effort I can control the ungovernable excitement which seized me at the mere mention of this woman's name. She dines with us next week, continued de Bred, a wonderful woman, wonderful. Her cures are marvellous, but that is, after all, the least part of her interesting personality. She is so fascinating, so wise, and good-natured, that men and women alike fall at her feet. As to Geraldine, she has taken an immense fancy to her. Where did you first meet her? I asked. In Scotland, last summer, she was staying with my old friends, the Campbells, for a couple of nights, and Friedeck was also one of the guests. If she is a friend of yours head, and I rather expect so from your manner, will you dine with us again next Thursday in order to meet her? We are going down to my place, Forest Manor, in Essex, and Madame is to stay with us for a couple of nights.  Will you come? I wish I could, but I fear it will be impossible, I replied. It is true that I know Madame Colucci, but I broke off. Don't ask me any more at the moment, DeBrette. The fact is, your news has excited me. You will say unreasonably. DeBrette gazed at me with earnestness. You have fallen under the spell of the most beautiful woman in London, he said after a pause. Is that so, head? You may put it that way if you like, I said, but I cannot explain myself to-night. Be assured, however, of my deep interest in this matter. Pray tell me anything more you may happen to know with regard to the Duke of Friedek. You certainly are a strange fellow, said my host. You are wearing at the present moment an air of quite painful mystery. However, here goes. You wish to hear about the Duke. I have nothing but good to tell of him. He is a rich man, and dabbles now and then on the stock exchange, but not to any serious extent. A week ago he arranged for a loan from my bank, depositing as security some of the most splendid diamonds I have ever seen. They are worth a king's ransom, and each stone is historical. He brought the diamonds away from the estates in Bavaria, and they are to be reset and presented to Geraldine just before the wedding. How large was the amount of the loan? I asked. DeBrette raised his eyebrows. He evidently thought I was infringing on privileges, even of an old friend. Compared with the security, the loan was a trifling one, he said after a pause. Not more than ten thousand pounds. Friedek will pay me back next week, as he wishes to release the diamonds, in order to have them ready to get to Geraldine on her wedding day. And when do you propose that the wedding shall take place? I continued. Ah, you have me there, head. That is the painful part. You know what my motherless girl is to me. Well, the Duke insists upon taking her away between now and Christmas. They are to spend Christmas in the old feudal style in the old castle in Bavaria. It is a great wrench parting from the little one, but she will be happy. I never met a man I took more warmly to than Carl Duke of Friedek. You can see for yourself that the child is devoted to him. I can, I said. I will wish you good night now, DeBrette. Be assured once again of my warm interest in all that concerns you and Geraldine. I shook hands with my host, and a moment later found myself in the street. I called a handsome and desired the man to drive straight to Defraer's Flat in Shaftesbury Avenue. He had just come in and welcomed me eagerly. By all that's fortunate head, he exclaimed, I was just on my way to see you. Then we have met well, I answered. Defraer, I have come here on a most important matter, but first of all tell me, have you ever heard of the Duke of Friedek? The Duke of Friedek, cried Defraer, why, it was on that very subject I wish to see you. You have, of course, observed the announcement of his approaching marriage in the society papers. I have, I replied. He is engaged to Geraldine DeBrette. I have been dining at DeBrette's house tonight and met the Duke at dinner. DeBrette has been telling me all about him. Defraer, I have learned to my consternation that the man was introduced to the DeBretts by Madame Calucci. That fact is quite enough to rouse my suspicions, but I see you have something to communicate on your own account. What is it? Sit down, head. You know, of course, that I am having Madame watched. The Duke of Friedek is beyond out one of her satellites, and I am strongly inclined to think that this is a new plot brewing. Just my own opinion, I replied, but tell me what you know. I was coming to see you, for I hope that you might remember the Duke's name from your old association with the Brotherhood. I do not recall it, but names mean nothing. The man is handsome and has the manners of a gentleman. When he entered DeBrette's drawing-room I thought for a moment that I must have met him before, but that idea quickly vanished. Nevertheless, he can try to arouse my suspicions by more than one stealthy glance which he favored me with, even before his connection with Madame Calucci was mentioned.  Beyond doubt, the man has plenty of money and moves in good circles, said DeFrayer. He is known, however, to live a pretty fast life. He shoots at Hurlingham, drives his own drag, rents a moor in Scotland, and has a suite at the hotel Cecil, but nothing can be discovered against him except that he is constantly seen in Madame's company. And that is quite enough, I replied. Friedek is one of Madame's satellites. Without doubt there is mischief ahead. I agree with you, said DeFrayer. I think it more than possible that this plausible duke is simply another serpent springing from the head of this modern bedusa. In that case, DeBrette ought to be warned. I rose uneasily. I would have warned him to-night, I answered, but I want more evidence. How are we to get it? Tyler's agents are doing their best, and Madame is closely watched. Yes, but that woman could deceive the devil himself, I said bitterly. That is true, answered DeFrayer, and to show our hand too soon might be fatal. We cannot move in this matter until we have got more circumstantial evidence. How are we just set to work, is the puzzle. Well, I said, I shall move heaven and earth in this matter. I have known Geraldine since she was a child. She is a sweet, innocent, motherless girl. The great risk to her happiness that may now be impending is too serious to contemplate quietly. If I had time, I should go to Bavaria in order to find out if the duke's story is true, but in any case it might be well to send one of Tyler's agents to look up the supposed estates. I will do so, said DeFrayer, and in the meantime I shall watch, I said, and if an opportunity occurs, believe me, DeBrette shall have his warning. As I spoke I bade my friend good-night and returned to my own house. The next few days were spent in anxious thought, but no immediate action seemed possible. Clue after clue still arose, but only to vanish into nothing. I seldom now went into society without hearing Madame Colucci's name, and all the accounts of her were favourable. She was the sort of woman to charm the eye and fire the imagination. Her personal attractions were some of her strongest potentialities. On the following Tuesday, as I was walking down Oxford Street, a brome drew up suddenly at the pavement. The window was lowered, and a girlish face looked eagerly out. Mr. Head! cried Geraldine DeBrette eagerly.  Come here, I have something to say. I approached her at once. We are dreadfully disappointed at your refusing to come to us on Thursday. She continued. We are making up a delightful party. My father and I are going down to Forest Manor for a fortnight in order to have plenty of room to entertain our friends. This is a personal matter with me. I ask you to come to us as a personal favour. Will you refuse? I looked full into the sparkling and lovely eyes of the young girl. The colour came and went in her cheeks. She laid one of her small hands for a moment on mine. I must tell you everything, she continued eagerly. Of course I want you, but I am not the only one. Madame Colucci, ah, you have heard of her? Who has not? was my cautious reply. Yes, but Mr. Head, you are concealing something. Madame is one of your very greatest friends. She has told me so. It is only an hour since I left her. She is most anxious to meet you on Thursday at our house. I promised you should be there. Wasn't it rash of me? But I made up my mind that I would insist on your coming. Now you won't allow me to break my word, will you? Did Madame Colucci really say that she wished to see me? I asked. As I put the question, I felt my face turning pale. I looked again full at Mr. Brett. It was evident that she misinterpreted my emotion. Well, that mattered nothing. I quickly made up my mind. I had an engagement for Thursday, I said. But your word is law. I cannot refuse you. Geraldine laughed. Madame doubted my power to bring you, but I knew you would come if I could really see you. Suppose we had not met in this chance sort of way. I was going to your house. I had no intention of leaving a stone unturned. Without you, my party will not be complete. Yes, you will come, and it is all right. You will hear from Father tomorrow. He very often drives out to forest men or from the bank, and perhaps you can arrange to come with him. But you will get all the particulars straight from him. Thank you a thousand times. You have made me a happy girl. She waved her hand to me in farewell, and the brome rolled out of sight. My blood was coursing quickly through my veins, and my mind was made up. Madame would not wish me to meet her at DeBrette's house without a strong reason. With her usual astuteness she was using Geraldine DeBrette as her tool in more senses than one. I must not delay another moment in warning the banker. Calling a handsome I desired the man to drive me straight to DeBrette's bank in the city, and soon after twelve o'clock I found myself in Grace Church Street. In a few moments the handsome turned on a narrow lane, leading into St. Mark's Court. Here I paid my driver, and a moment later found myself in the open space in front of the bank. This was a cul-de-sac, but there was another lane leading into it also from Grace Church Street, running parallel to the one I had come down, and separated from it by a narrow row of buildings, which came to an abrupt termination about fifty feet from the houses, forming the farther side of the court. Well, as I knew DeBrette, I had not been at the old bank for some years, and looked around me now eagerly, until my eye fell upon the large brass plate, bearing the well-known name. I entered the office, and going up to the counter, asked if Mr. DeBrette were in. The clerk replied in the affirmative, and giving him my card, he passed through a door into an inner room. The next moment he reappeared and requested me to step inside. I found DeBrette seated at her writing-table, upon which a circle of light fell from a shaded incandescent. Welcome, head! he exclaimed, rising and coming forward with his usual heartiness of manner. To what am I indebted for this visit? Sit down! I am delighted to see you. By the way, Geraldine tells me— I have just met your daughter, I interrupted, and it is principally on account of that meeting that I have come here to trouble you during business hours.  The fact is, head! Geraldine is anxious that you should join our party at Forrest Manor, and I wish you would reconsider your determination. The Duke has taken a fancy to you, and as you happen to know, Madame Colucci, it would be a pleasure to us all if you would give us the benefit of your society for a night or two. I have promised Geraldine to come, I answered gravely, but, DeBrette, you must pardon me. I have intruded on you in your business hours to speak on a most delicate private matter. However you may receive what I have to say, I must ask you to hear it in confidence, and with that good feeling that has prompted me to come to you. My dear head! What do you mean? Pray, explain yourself. I am uneasy, I continued, very uneasy. I am also in a peculiar position, and cannot disclose the reason of my fears. You are pleased with the match which Geraldine is about to make. Now I have reasons for doubting the Duke of Friedek, reasons which I cannot at the present moment disclose, but I am bound, yes bound, DeBrette, in your girl's interest, to warn you as to your dealings with him. DeBrette looked at me through his gold-room spectacles, with a blank expression of amazement. If it were any other man who spoke to me in this strain, he said at last, I believe I should show him the door. Are you aware, head, that this is a most serious allegation? You are bound in all honor to explain yourself. I cannot do so at the present moment. I can only repeat that my fears are grave. All I ask of you is to use double caution to find out all you can about the man's antecedents. DeBrette interrupted me, rising hastily from his seat. In our dealings, one with the other, he said, this is the first time in which you have shown bad taste. I shall see the Duke this afternoon, and shall be bound to acquaint him in his and my own interests with your communications. I hope you won't do so. Remember, my warning is given in confidence. It is not fair to give a man such a warning, and then to give him no reason for it, retorted the banker. I will give you my reasons. When, on Thursday night, will you regard my confidence as sacred until then? You have disturbed me considerably. But I will do so. I should be sorry to alarm Geraldine unnecessarily. I am quite certain you are mistaken. You never saw the Duke until you met him at my house? That I believe to be true, but I cannot say anything further now. I will explain my reasons fully on Thursday night. DeBrette rose from his seat. He bade me good-bye, but not with his customary friendliness. I went away to pass the time until Thursday in much anxiety. After grave thought I resolved, if I discovered nothing fresh with regard to Friedeck, to acquaint DeBrette with what I knew of Madame Colucci. If Geraldine married the Duke, she should at least do so with her father's eyes opened. I little guessed, however, when I made these plans, what circumstances were about to bring forth.