"It came this morning--with another letter from that woman," she murmured.
I think she began to feel ashamed of herself; and in two minutes I got the letter from her. It was written by the same hand as the letter of the day before, and was, like it, unsigned. It merely said that the writer, in proof of her good faith, enclosed a photograph which Master Jim--that gay Lothario!--had given her. We were still looking at the letter, when the Colonel came in. I explained the matter to him, and I will answer for it, before he understood it, Kitty was more ashamed of herself than ever.
"This photograph and the one at Gold's are facsimiles," said he thoughtfully. "That is certain. And both come from Frome. Doesn't it seem probable that the gentleman who obtained Jim's photograph for his own purpose last year--to send to Gold--printed off more than one copy? And having this one by him, and wishing to cause mischief between Kitty and Jim, thought of this and used it? The sender is, therefore, some one who passed his examination last year and is still at Frome."
Jim shook his head.
"If he passed, sir, he would not be at Bulcher's now," he said.
"On second thoughts he may not be," the Colonel replied. "He may have sent the two letters to Frome to a confidential friend with orders to post them. Wait--wait a minute," my old chum added, looking at me with a new light in his eyes. "Where have I seen a letter addressed to Frome--within the last day or two? Eh? Wait a bit."
We did wait; and presently the Colonel announced his discovery in a grim voice.
"I have it," he said. "It is that scoundrel, Farquhar!"
"Farquhar!" I said. "What do you mean, Colonel?"
"Just that, Major, just that. Do you remember him knocking against you in the hall at the club the day before yesterday? He dropped a letter, and I picked it up. It was addressed--I could not help seeing so much--to Frome."