reasons which led you to leave Sir Charles Dyke's house in such a particularly disagreeable way." "Disagreeable? I only left in a hurry. Who had any right to stop me?" "No one, in a sense, except that Sir Charles Dyke may feel inclined to prosecute you." "For what, Mr. Bruce?" This emancipated servant girl was not such a simpleton as she looked. It was necessary to frighten her and at the same time to force her to admit the facts with reference to her sensational flight from Wensley House. "You must know," he said, "that Sir Charles Dyke can proceed against you in the County Court to recover wages in lieu of notice, and this would be far from pleasant for you in your new surroundings." "Yes, I know that. But why should Sir Charles Dyke, or you, or any other gentleman, want to destroy a poor girl's prospects in that fashion?" "Surely, you must feel that some explanation is due to us for your extraordinary behavior?" "No, I don't feel a bit like it." "But why did you go away?" "To suit myself." "Could you not have given notice? Why was it necessary to create a further scandal in addition to the disappearance of your unfortunate mistress?" "I am sorry for that. It was thoughtless, I admit. If I had to act over again I should have done differently. But what does it matter now?" "It matters this much--that the police must be informed of your existence, as they are searching for you, believing that you are in some way mixed up with Lady Dyke's death." The girl started violently, and she flushed, rather with anger than alarm, Bruce thought, as he watched her narrowly. "The police, indeed," she snorted; "what have the police to do with me? A nice thing you're saying, Mr. Bruce." "I am merely telling you the naked truth." "All right. Tell them. I don't care a pin for them or you. Have you anything else to say, because I wish to join my friends?" The girl's language and attitude mystified him more than any preceding feature of this remarkable investigation. She was, of course, far