"You have made a mistake," he exclaimed quickly; "this is not Mrs.
Bailey's handwriting!"

"Oh, yes, M'sieur, it is certainly Mrs. Bailey's letter. You see there is
the lady's signature written as plainly as possible!"

Chester looked down to where the man's fat finger pointed.

In the strange, the alien handwriting, were written two words which for
a moment conveyed nothing to Chester, "Silvea" and "Baylee"; as for the
writing, stiff, angular, large, it resembled Sylvia's sloping English
caligraphy as little as did the two words purporting to be her signature
resemble the right spelling of her name.

A thrill of fear, of terrifying suspicion, flooded Bill Chester's shrewd
but commonplace mind.

Slowly he read the strange letter through:

"Monsieur Polperro (so ran the missive in French)--

"I am leaving Lacville this evening in order to join my friend Madame
Wolsky. I request you therefore to send on my luggage to the cloak room
at the Gare du Nord. I enclose a hundred-franc note to pay you what I
owe. Please distribute the rest of the money among the servants. I beg
to inform you that I have been exceedingly comfortable at the Villa du
Lac, and I will recommend your hotel to all my friends.

"Yours very cordially,