The Count lowered his voice, and leant over the table.

"I have suspected," he went on--"nay, I have felt sure from the very
first, Mr. Chester, that the Wachners are _blackmailers_. I am convinced
that they discovered something to that poor lady's discredit, and--after
making her pay--drove her away! Just before she left Lacville they were
trying to raise money at the Casino money-changer's on some worthless
shares. But after Madame Wolsky's disappearance they had plenty of gold
and notes."

Chester looked across at his companion. At last he was really impressed.
Blackmailing is a word which has a very ugly sound in an English lawyer's
ears.

"If that is really true," he said suddenly, "I almost feel as if I ought
to go back to Lacville to-night. I suppose there are heaps of trains?"

"You might, at all events, wait till to-morrow morning," said Paul de
Virieu, drily.

He also had suddenly experienced a thrill of that primitive passion,
jealousy, which had surprised Chester but a few moments before. But the
Count was a Frenchman. He was familiar with the sensation--nay, he
welcomed it. It showed that he was still young--still worthy to be one
of the great company of lovers.

Sylvia, his "petite amie Anglaise," seemed to have come very near to
him in the last few moments. He saw her blue eyes brim with tears at
his harsh words--he thrilled as he had thrilled with the overmastering