"In Malta," said Ronald, abruptly.

"She might not be, by the time we find out her husband's real name," said the barrister coolly; "don't hurry my dear toy; but when we discover where she is, we must set a detective on her to find out her movements on that night when the murder was committed; if she can account for them satisfactorily your theory must fall to the ground."

"But if she can't?"

Foster shrugged his shoulders.

"Then we must be guided by circumstances; we can hardly arrest a woman on the existing evidence; it's a very difficult case, and we must be careful."

"When will you look up this divorce case?"

"To-day, and let you know all about it to-morrow; meanwhile, you had better come and lunch at my club."

"Thank you very much," said Ronald, blushing; "if you will let me away immediately afterwards. I have to make a call."

"Certainly," replied Foster, glancing at his companion's tell-tale face as they went out; "I'll bet he's going to see a woman," he thought, looking at Monteith. "What a transparently honest man he is."

[CHAPTER IX.]