The mention of Mrs Anson and her charge held me breathless. The “charge” referred to was evidently Mabel. I only hoped that from this conversation I might obtain some clue to the whereabouts of my darling.
“I wonder how much Heaton really does know?” observed her visitor reflectively at last.
“Too much, I fear,” she answered. No doubt she recollected how I had expressed my determination to go to Scotland Yard.
Again there was a prolonged pause.
“Roesch has arrived in London. I must see him,” exclaimed the man.
“In London? I thought he was still at his post in the Ministry at Sofia,” she said in a tone of surprise.
“He was fortunate enough to obtain early intimation of Oustromoff’s intentions, and after warning me, escaped the same evening. He took steamer, I heard, from Trieste to London.”
“Why associate yourself further with that man?” she urged. “Surely it will only add to the danger.”
“What concerns myself likewise concerns him,” he answered rather ambiguously.
“You have apparently of late become closer friends. For what reason?”