“Who are you talking of?”

“Beg pardon again, your grace, but I am afraid there is some misunderstanding.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“I am talking of the woman who came to the duchess just before she disappeared,” answered the detective.

“Good Heaven!” exclaimed the duke, with such a look of deep disappointment that the detective hastened to deprecate his displeasure by saying: 

“I am very sorry, your grace, that there should have been any misapprehension.”

“You idiot!” were the words that arose spontaneously to the duke’s lips; but they were not uttered.  The “princely Hereward” habitually governed himself.

“Why did you not tell me in your telegram who was found?” he demanded.

“I certainly thought that your grace would have understood.  In the telegram dispatched at nine o’clock yesterday morning, I told your grace that I had a clew to the woman who had called at Elmthorpe House on Tuesday.  In the telegram sent at three in the afternoon, I said—­’She is found.’  I certainly thought your grace would understand that the woman to whom I had gained the clew was found.  I grieve to know how much mistaken I was,” sighed Mr. Setter.

“Ah! that accounts for everything.  I never received that first telegram.”

“Your grace never received it?”

“Certainly not.”

“Then my messenger was false to his trust.  I was so indiscreet as to send it to the office by a ticket porter, believing the fellow would do his duty faithfully, after having been paid in advance.  The more fool I. I am certainly old enough to have known better!” said the detective, with a mortified air.

“Well Mr. Setter, it is useless to regret that mistake now.  Be so good as to call a cab.  We will go at once to Westminster Road and see this Mrs. Brown.  What information has she given you?”

“None whatever, except this, which we knew before—­that she visited the bride on the afternoon of the wedding day.  She declines to tell me the nature of her business with the duchess; but says that she will explain it to you; she further denies all knowledge of the present abode of the duchess.”

“Then we must lose no time in going to the woman,” said the duke.

As he spoke, the cab which had been signalled by the detective drove up, and the cabman jumped down and opened the door.

The duke entered it and sat down on the back cushions.

His grace’s servant, Kerr, came up to the window for orders.

“Take my luggage home to Elmthorpe House.  Give my respects to Lady Belgrade, and say that I will join her ladyship this afternoon,” said the duke.

The servant touched his hat and withdrew.

“To Number ——­, Westminster Road,” ordered Mr. Setter, as he mounted to the box-seat beside the cabman.

The latter started his horses at a good rate of speed, so that a drive of about forty minutes brought them to their destination.