Lady Belgrade rang the bell.

A footman appeared in answer to it.

“Examine him first, your grace,” said the lady.

The duke put the young man through a strict catechism, without satisfactory results.  John was the hall footman, whose business it was to answer the street-door bell and announce visitors.  And he assured his grace that no one had entered or left the house that morning, to his knowledge, except the wedding party and their attendants.

The hall-porter was next summoned and examined, and his report was found to correspond exactly to that of the footman.

The butler was sent for and questioned, but could throw no light on the mystery of the lady’s disappearance.

The pantry footman was next called up.  His duty was to wait on the butler and attend the servants’ door, to take in provisions delivered there.  And the first plausible clue to the mystery of Salome’s disappearance was received from him.

“Yes, my lady,” he said, “there have been a stranger to the servants’ door this morning—­an elderly old widow woman, my lady, dressed in black, and werry much in earnest about seeing her grace; would take no denial, my lady, on no account; which compelled me to go to her grace’s lady’s-maid, Miss Watson, my lady, and send a message to her grace,” said the young footman.

“Did the duchess see this strange visitor?” inquired the duke.

“Miss Watson come down and seen her first, your grace, and told her how she mustn’t disturb the duchess.  But the visitor was so dead set on seeing her grace, and used such strong language about it, that at last Miss Watson took up her message and in a few minutes come back and took up the visitor.”

“She did?  And what next?” inquired Lady Belgrade.

“Please, my lady, there was nothing next.  In about an hour Miss Margaret brought the elderly old lady down, and I showed her out of the servants’ door.”

“Did she leave the house alone?” inquired the duke.

“Yes, your grace, just as she came, alone.”

“Go and tell Margaret Watson to come here,” said Lady Belgrade.

The man bowed and retired.

In a few minutes the girl made her appearance again.

“How is it, Watson, that you did not mention the visitor you showed up into your lady’s room this morning?” inquired Lady Belgrade, in a severe tone.

“If you please, my lady, I did not think the visitor signified anything,” meekly answered the maid.

“How could you tell what signified at a time like this?”

“I beg pardon, my lady; but it was the time itself that made me forget the visitor.”

“Who was she?  What time did she come?  What did she want?” sharply demanded the lady.

“Please, my lady, she said her name was Smith, or Jones, or some such common name as that.  I think it was Jones, my lady.  And she lived on Westminster Road—­or it might have been Blackfriars Road.  Least-ways it was one of those roads leading to a bridge because I remember it made me think of the river.”