"I admit, Enid, that I suspected you of being in the hands of a set of scoundrels," her lover said in a low, hoarse voice. "At first I hesitated whether to warn you of your peril after Weirmarsh had, with such dastardly cunning, betrayed you to the French police, but—well," he added as he looked again into her dear eyes long and earnestly, "I loved you, Enid," he blurted forth. "I told you so! Remember, dear, what you said at Biarritz? And I love you—and because of that I resolved to save you!"
"Which you did," she said in a strained, mechanical tone. "We both have you to thank for our escape. Weirmarsh, having first implicated Paul, then made allegations against us, in order to send us to prison, because he feared lest my stepfather might, in a fit of remorse, act indiscreetly and make a confession."
"The past will all be forgiven now that Sir Hugh has been able to expose and unmask Weirmarsh and his band," Walter assured her. "A great sensation may possibly result, but it will, in any case, show that even though an Englishman may be bought, he can still remain honest. And," he added, "it will also show them that there is at least one brave woman in England who sacrificed her love—for I know well, Enid, that you fully reciprocate the great affection I feel towards you—in order to bear her noble part in combating a wily and unscrupulous gang."
"It was surely my duty," replied the girl simply, her eyes downcast in modesty. "Yet association with that dastardly blackguard, Dr. Weirmarsh, was horrible! How I refrained from turning upon him through all those months I cannot really tell. I detested him from the first moment Sir Hugh invited him to our table; and though I went to assist him under guise of consultations, I acted with one object all along," she declared, her eyes raised to his and flashing, "to expose him in his true guise—that of Josef Blot, the head of the most dangerous association of forgers, of international thieves and blackmailers known to the police for the past half a century."
"Which you have surely done! You have revealed the whole plot, and confounded those who were so cleverly conspiring to effect a sudden and most gigantic coup. But——" and he paused, still looking into her eyes through his pince-nez, and sighed.
"But what?" she asked, in some surprise at his sudden change of manner.
"There is one matter, Enid, which"—and he paused—"well, which is still a mystery to me, and I—I want you to explain it," he said in slow deliberation.
"What is that?" she asked, looking at him quickly.
"The mystery which you have always refused to assist me in unravelling—the mystery of the death of Harry Bellairs," was his quiet reply. "You held him in high esteem; you loved him," he added in a voice scarce above a whisper.
She drew back, her countenance suddenly blanched as she put her hand quickly to her brow and reeled slightly as though she had been dealt a blow.
