"We shall remember all those things," Bellamy assured him.

Streuss took up his hat and gloves.

"With your permission, then, Mademoiselle," he concluded, turning to
Louise, "I go. I must try and understand for myself the meaning of
this thing which has happened to Von Behrling."

"Do not forget," Bellamy said, "that if you discover anything, we
are equally interested." . . .

They heard him go out. Bellamy purposely held the door open until
he saw the lift descend. Then he closed it firmly and came back
into the room. Louise and he looked at each other, their faces full
of anxious questioning.

"What does it mean?" Louise cried. "What can it mean?"

"Heaven alone knows!" Bellamy answered. "There is not a gleam of
daylight. My people are absolutely innocent of any attempt upon Von
Behrling. If Streuss tells the truth, and I believe he does, his
people are in the same position. Who, then, in the name of all that
is miraculous, can have murdered and robbed Von Behrling?"

"In London, too," Louise murmured. "It is not Vienna, this, or
Belgrade."

"You are right," Bellamy agreed. "London is one of the most
law-abiding cities in Europe. Besides, the quarter where the murder