In a few words the story was told. Balmayne listened moodily. With his further knowledge of facts he saw the danger.
"This is dreadful," he said. "The man who died in the Corner House changed four hundred sovereigns into notes. Part of them he put into a letter to send to a certain person who appears to have been nameless. We know that he was going to send that money to his brother."
"Of course. But, thank goodness, we are the only people who know that."
"Exactly where you are mistaken," said Balmayne, bitterly. "They all know it. Isidore let it out tonight. The fellow Prout, who has the Corner House case in hand, by a piece of amazing luck has arrested a criminal on another charge. In that criminal's possession were certain letters addressed to him by the--by Leona Lalage, in fact. In other words the police have discovered the dead man's brother René!"
The Countess paused in her agitated walk. She had been striding up and down the room impatiently. She paused now with her hand to her head as if somebody had shot her in her stride, and collapsed into a chair.
"Say that again," she groaned, "say that again."
"My words were perfectly plain," Balmayne said, impatiently. "René Lalage is in the hands of the police; they know he is brother to the murdered man by certain letters found in his possession. Also we know that in their queer way those two rascals were very fond of one another. There is not much suspicion yet, or Isidore would not have told me so much tonight. But when ill-luck begins to dog one, it is amazing how far that ill-luck goes. For instance----"
"Well? Go on, nothing could be worse than what has happened."
"Oh, can't it? It only wants Garrett Charlton to turn up now. We must get those notes from Isidore at any hazard. They will remain in his possession--in fact, he told me tonight that he had them. He said----"
But the Countess did not heed. Absolutely worn out in mind and body she had fainted.