But the mask was plucked away, and, fumbling in his pocket, Stafford produced his electric lamp and flashed it on the face of his prisoner. Then, with a cry of amazement, he stepped back—for he had looked upon the face of Maisie White!
For a moment there was silence, neither speaking. Then Stafford found his voice.
"Maisie!" he said in bewilderment, "Maisie! You—Jack o' Judgment?"
She did not answer.
"Phew!" whistled Stafford.
Then sitting on a trunk, he laughed.
"It is Maisie, of all people in the world. And I suspected it, too!"
The girl had covered her face with her hands and was crying softly, and he moved towards her and put his arm about her shoulder.
"Darling, it is nothing very terrible. Please don't go on like that."
"Oh, you don't understand, you don't understand!" she wailed. "I wanted to catch Silva. I guessed that he was coming north on one of his blackmailing trips, and I followed him."