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"And so you decided to stay in the house, to win Señor Silva's confidence by pretending to become a convert, and to search for evidence against him," I said. "That was a brave thing to do, Miss Vaughan." "Not so brave as you think," she objected, shaking her head. "I did not believe that there would be any real danger, with the three servants in the house.

"I say, Tom, don't you think that there is a chance of her making sail, and leaving us here?" observed one of them to the old pirate Tom Roguish. "No fear of that, mate," answered old Tom, shaking his head. "They know our value too well to do that. I've watched what has been going on for some time, and it's my belief Silva's party will find that they have made a mistake.

With this she turned and took up the photograph which she had laid on the secretary, and while her glance rested on the picture, Tisdale's regarded her face. "So," he said then, "when the lost letter came back to you, you kept it; Weatherbee never knew." She looked up. "Yes, I kept it. By that time I believed little Silva's coming and going could make little difference to him."

"I have been thinking," said Captain Reud, placing the forefinger of his left hand, with an air of great profundity, on the left side of his nose, "I have been thinking of the very curious fatality that has attached itself to Mr Silva's excellent work."

That wish was destined to be gratified, for, three years later, we heard that story, or a part of it, from Silva's lips, as he lay calmly smoking a cigarette, looking in the face of death, and without flinching. Perhaps, some day, I shall tell that story. "But, Godfrey," I said, as we turned in at his gate, "all this scheme of lies the star, the murder, the finger-prints what was it all about?

"The change in your father was undoubtedly directly traceable to it," Godfrey agreed. "During those periods of crystal-gazing, he was really in a state of hypnosis, induced by Silva, with his mind bare to Silva's suggestions; and as these were repeated, he became more and more a mere echo of Silva's personality. That was what Silva desired for you, also."

"Who's got an extra gun?" he demanded, and one of the detectives pressed one into his hand. "Ready, now, men," he added, crossed the hall, threw open the outer door into Silva's room, and flung back the drapery beyond. My heart was in my throat as I peered over Godfrey's shoulder at what lay within; and then a gasp of amazement from my companions mingled with my own.

There's only one place she can be," and he led the way resolutely back to the door of Silva's room. The yogi had not moved. Godfrey contemplated him for a moment, with his torch full on the bearded face. Then he crossed the threshold, his torch sweeping the floor in front of him.

Steingall, with his prisoner, returned to headquarters, while Clancy made a thorough search of the room the pair had occupied in De Silva's house. The Hungarian did not deny his name nor his share in the earlier crime. "It is fate," he said doggedly in his broken French. "When they tell me we have killed the man I know the police get us." He would say no more.

To Sylvester, head of the Identification Bureau, it seemed that the world was tottering to its fall; but the rest of us, who had not really at the bottom of our hearts, perhaps, believed in the infallibility of the finger-print system, took it more calmly. And presently we went upstairs to take a look at the contents of Silva's secret cupboard.