me that our lady of to-day had nothing in the house more precious to her
than what we are in quest of. She would rush to secure it. The alarm of
fire was admirably done. The smoke and shouting were enough to shake
nerves of steel. She responded beautifully. The photograph is in a recess
behind a sliding panel just above the right bell-pull. She was there in an
instant, and I caught a glimpse of it as she drew it out. When I cried out
that it was a false alarm, she replaced it, glanced at the rocket, rushed
from the room, and I have not seen her since. I rose, and, making my
excuses, escaped from the house. I hesitated whether to attempt to secure
the photograph at once; but the coachman had come in, and as he was
watching me narrowly, it seemed safer to wait. A little over-precipitance
may ruin all."

"And now?" I asked.

"Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the king to-morrow,
and with you, if you care to come with us. We will be shown into the
sitting room to wait for the lady, but it is probable that when she comes
she may find neither us nor the photograph. It might be a satisfaction to
his majesty to regain it with his own hands."

"And when will you call?"

"At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall have a
clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage may mean a
complete change in her life and habits. I must wire to the king without
delay."

We had reached Baker Street, and had stopped at the door. He was searching
his pockets for the key, when some one passing said: