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Updated: May 8, 2025
Tennison's house," I went on, "and also that you are left in charge of Miss Gabrielle. It is about her that I wish to consult you. I think I may be able to tell you something of interest," and I handed her my card. Mrs. Alford read the name, but at first she seemed rather disinclined to admit me.
My sole desire and fixed object was to solve the enigma of Gabrielle Tennison's unfortunate mental state and to bring to justice those unscrupulous blackguards responsible for it. As I sat there her pale beautiful face arose before me the wonderful countenance of the girl who had, in such a strange and indescribable manner, taken possession of my soul.
From the house of the defaulter, the police, encircling the process-server, proceeded in a certain direction to a place called Tennison's Gate; but so closely were they now pressed upon by the multitude that they were obliged to keep them off with their bayonets.
Twice he had travelled with me, meeting me as though by accident, yet I now saw that he had been my companion with some set purpose in view. What could it be? It became quite plain that I could not hope to obtain anything further from either Gabrielle or the servant, therefore I assumed a polite and sympathetic attitude and told them that I hoped to call again on Mrs. Tennison's return.
At Scotland Yard they acted upon my suggestion, and at once sent a wireless message to Señor Rivero in Madrid, telling him of the discovery of the notorious Mateo Sanz. In the meantime my curiosity was further aroused by a note sent to me by Mrs. Tennison's servant, Mrs.
By the time they had passed the place called Tennison's Gate, a large body had collected in their front, blocking up the road they had to pass, and which would have conducted, them in a different direction, but not one so peculiarly perilous.
"But we won't give up till we punish those responsible for poor Miss Tennison's state will we?" "No, we won't," I declared determinedly. "Of course we may be on a wrong scent, but something seems to tell me that we are pretty hot on the trail. The assassin Despujol would never have been employed by them if they did not hold us in dread."
The letters I received from Lyons were the reverse of hopeful. The last one indeed reported that little or no progress had been noted during the weeks she had been under the care of the kindly old professor. One evening, on returning from the office, I found upon the hall-table a note in Mrs. Tennison's well-known hand.
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