"Mabel's affairs have nothing to do with me. I am not interested in her
correspondents, Harry," she replied. "Surely it is not my place to
carry tales to you, is it?"
"No; pardon me," I said, hastening to excuse myself, "but in this affair
the truth must be told."
"Then why haven't you told it to me?" asked the girl. "Why are you so
carefully hiding other facts?"
"Because they are of concern only to myself--a secret which is mine, and
mine alone."
"And it does not concern Mabel?" she demanded.
"No," I replied hoarsely, "except that her acquaintance with the
Professor has placed a new phase upon the mystery. Tell me all that
happened concerning that note."
"It came about eleven o'clock in the morning," she said. "I saw a
telegraph-boy come up the steps, and believed he had a message from you.
Annie took the note and brought it here into the dining-room, where
Mabel signed for it. She read it through, and I saw that it caused her
a great shock of surprise. Her hands were trembling. I inquired what
was the matter, but she made some evasive reply. I demanded to know
whom it was from, and she replied that her correspondent's name was
Greer. `He ought never to have written to me,' she added. `Men are
sometimes most injudicious.' Then she rose and placed the letter in the
flames, watching it until it had been burned."
"And is that all?" I demanded, astounded at the girl's story.
"Yes, except that for some hours afterwards she seemed very upset. To
me it appeared as though she had received word of some unusual
occurrence. At noon she called a taxi by telephone, and went out. She
did not return for luncheon, so I was alone. At three she came back,
and I saw that she looked pale and distressed, while her eyes were red,
as though she had been crying. But I attributed that to our ignorance
of where you were. You know, Harry, how upset she is if when you are
away you don't write or wire to her every day," added the girl.
The story held me utterly speechless. That Mabel was acquainted in
secret with the Professor astounded me. But it had been the false
Professor who had written to her. Possibly the fellow was already in
London while I was searching for him in Glasgow, and, if so, what was
more probable than that she should have met him by appointment?
Not one single instant did I doubt Mabel's truth and love. If she had
met this impostor, then she had been the victim of some cleverly-planned
plot. I was incensed only against the perpetrators of that foul crime
in Sussex Place, not against the sweet, soft-spoken woman who was so
near my heart. Mabel was my wife, my love, my all-in-all.
Poor Gwen, watching my face intently, believed that she had acted as a
sneak towards her sister, but I quickly reassured her that it was not
so. Her revelations had sent my thoughts into a different channel.
"The telegram summoning her to Italy came after her return?" I asked.
"Yes, she was upset, and would eat no tea," the girl answered. "Her
conversation was all the time of you. `Harry is in danger,' she said
several times. `Something tells me that he is in the greatest danger.'
Then, when the message came, she became almost frantic in her anxiety
for your welfare, saying, `Did I not tell you so? My husband is in
peril. He is the victim of a plot!'"
"You never heard her speak of the Professor before?" I inquired.
"Never, Harry; and, truth to tell, I was surprised that she should
receive a letter from a man who she admitted to me was unknown to you."
"She told you that?" I cried.
"She said that you were not acquainted with the Professor, and that you
might object to him writing to her, if you knew."
"Then she was in fear of discovery, eh?" I asked in a husky voice.
"Yes," faltered the girl. "It--it almost seemed as though she was. But
really, Harry, I--I know I've done wrong to tell you all this. I--I'm
quite ashamed of myself. But it is because I am in such great fear that
something has happened to my sister."
"You have done quite right, Gwen," I assured her. "The circumstances
have warranted your outspokenness. Some men might perhaps misjudge
their wives in such a case, but I love Mabel, and she loves me.
Therefore I will believe no ill of her. She is the innocent victim of a
plot, and by Heaven!" I cried fiercely, "while I live I'll devote my
whole life to its exposure, and to the just punishment of any who have
dared to harm her!"