"It wouldn't be a bad idea," pondered Vernon, "and yet it is not wise to act with too much haste. After all, we can't get a search warrant, as you have no witness to your assault, and the woman can easily deny the story of Dimsdale which seems to connect her with The Spider. I shall go on my own and secure more evidence upon which to get a warrant, if not for her arrest at all events for a search through those rooms of hers. Some evidence regarding The Spider--if indeed she is connected with him, as seems extremely probable--may be found concealed there. I'll call to-morrow morning," ended Vernon rising, "in the character of a superstitious client."
"And I'll write the letter to Venery, of Singapore."
In this way the matter was decided and the burden was divided. Vernon went away with the conviction that by chance the Colonel had struck upon the much-wished-for clue which would lead to the identification of the famous Spider. Certainly, he might be jumping to a conclusion, but, taking all that was known into account it looked extremely probable. And if it was true it behoved him to act cautiously lest The Spider at the eleventh hour should slip through the fingers of the police. For this reason, and until he was positive, Vernon did not think it wise to call in the assistance of the law. First it was necessary to prove the collusion of Diabella and The Spider, so that if she were not the scoundrel herself she would at least be able to identify him beyond all doubt. Second, even if his identity were proved it would be no easy task to arrest so slippery a criminal. Like the celebrated fox in the fable, The Spider had a thousand tricks, which he could use to better advantage than the animal. The fox in the story of Æsop was caught, but it was probable, unless the very greatest care were used, that The Spider would escape. Already the police had experienced his subtlety, and regarded the arch-scoundrel as a very wary and dangerous bird who was not to be caught by putting salt on his tail.
Colonel Towton, being less experienced in the trickery of the criminal classes, was more hopeful of success, and next morning settled down to write the letter to Venery, of Singapore, quite confident that all the mysteries were on the eve of solution. He quite expected to hear from his correspondent that Ida was not Dimsdale's daughter, but he was quite sure that the embroidered facts of the pointed delay in the rescue of Menteith were false. Assured of this, he was quite willing to marry Ida, as the daughter of a poor soldier, and to hand over the fortune to Lady Corsoon. Love was everything to the Colonel at this moment, and nothing else mattered.
But just as he reached the second page of his letter Vernon burst into the room with a half-vexed and half-triumphant air. He told his news without any delay. "I believe you are right about Diabella being connected with The Spider, Colonel," he said; "she has shut up her rooms and has cleared out bag and baggage."
[CHAPTER XI.]
THE NEEDLE IN THE HAYSTACK.
It was big news, which meant more than at first sight appeared, since the implication was of depths below depths and veils behind veils. To be quite plain, the unexpected flight of the fortune-teller, for it was nothing else, hinted at the truth of Towton's suspicions. Had there been nothing but the mere assault Diabella could have faced that and could have even counted upon the Colonel doing nothing, since an unbiassed witness was lacking. The flight was not caused by the incident which had taken place in the Bond Street rooms, but by the fear that something dangerous might peep out from behind it. And what could this something be--on the grounds of Diabella's story and the Hindoo's attempted strangling--but a dread lest The Spider should be traced?
"I am perfectly certain that you are right, Towton," said Vernon, sitting sideways on the table and swinging his legs. "Only the fear of her connection with that blackmailing scoundrel being traced could have scared her into disappearance."
"She has really gone?"