"It might have something to do with a wedding ring," said Tait, with a grim smile. "The lady may have matrimonial designs on you."
"Bah! She may be a washerwoman for all you know, or a wife, or a widow, or Heaven only knows what. But that is not the queerest part of the affair, for Mr. Hilliston——But here, read the lady's letter first, the gentleman's next, and tell me what you think of them. Upon my word, I can make neither top nor tail of the business!"
(The First Letter.)
"April 18, 1892.
"Dear Sir: Will you be so kind as to call and see me at Clarence Cottage, Hunt Lane, Hampstead, as I have an important communication to make to you regarding your parents.
"Yours truly,
"Margaret Bezel."
(The Second Letter.)
"Lincoln's Inn Fields, June 10, 1892.
"Dear Claude: Call and see me here as soon as you arrive in town, and should you receive a communication from one Margaret Bezel, bring it with you. On no account see the lady before you have an interview with me. This matter is more important than you know of, and will be duly explained by me when you call.
"Yours sincerely,
"Francis Hilliston."
Tait read these two letters carefully, pinched his chin reflectively, and looked at Claude in a rather anxious manner.
"Well, sir," said the latter impatiently, "what is your opinion?"
Tait's opinion was given in one word, and that not of the nicest meaning.
"Blackmail."