“July 20th.—­Nine days without a word from Sir John Pennythorne, except to say that he had written his friend Monsieur H——­, as requested by Lady Chillington.  I began to despair.  Each morning I inquired of her ladyship whether she had received any reply from Sir John, and each morning her ladyship said:  ’I have had no reply, Mr. Madgin, beyond the one you have already seen.’

“Certain matters connected with a lease took me up to Deepley Walls this afternoon for the second time to-day.  The afternoon post came in while I was there.  Among other letters was one from Sir John Pennythorne, which, when she had read it, her ladyship tossed over to me.  It enclosed one from M. H——­ to Sir John.  It was on the latter that I pounced.  It was written in French, but even at the first hasty reading I could make it out sufficiently to know that it was of far greater importance than even in my wildest dreams I had dared to imagine.

“I never saw Lady Chillington so excited as she was during the few moments which I took up in reading the letter.  During the nine days that had elapsed since the writing of her letter to Sir John she had treated me somewhat slightingly; there was, or so I fancied, a spice of contempt in her manner towards me.  The step I had induced her to take in writing to Sir John had met with no approbation at her hands; it had seemed to her an utterly futile and ridiculous thing to do; therefore was I now proportionately well pleased to find that my wild idea had been productive of such excellent fruit.

“’I must certainly compliment you, Mr. Madgin, on the success of your first step,’ said her ladyship.  ’It was like one of the fine intuitions of genius to imagine that you saw a way to reach M. Platzoff through the Russian Embassy.  You have been fully justified by the result.  Madgin, the man yet lives!—­the man whose sacrilegious hands robbed my dead son of that which he had left as a sacred gift to his mother.  May the curse of a widowed mother attend him through life!  Let me hear the letter again, Madgin; or stay, I will read it myself:  your French is execrable.  Ha, ha!  Monsieur Paul Platzoff, we shall have our revenge out of you yet.’

“She read the letter through for the second time with a sort of deliberate eagerness which showed me how deeply interested her heart was in the affair.  She dropped her eye-glass and gave a great sigh when she came to the end of it.  ’And what do you propose to do next, Mr. Madgin?’ she asked.  ’Your conduct so far satisfies me that I cannot do better than leave the case entirely in your hands.’

     “‘With all due deference to your ladyship,’ I replied, ’I think
     that my next step ought to be to reconnoitre the enemy’s camp.’

     “‘Exactly my own thought,’ said her ladyship.  ’When can you start
     for Windermere?’