Accept, sir, the assurance of my sentiments of profound gratitude and respect.

    JOSEPH RIGOBERT.

LAST LINES.—­ADDED BY PERCY FAIRBANK

Tried for the murder of Francis Raven, Joseph Rigobert was found Not Guilty; the papers of the assassinated man presented ample evidence of the deadly animosity felt toward him by his wife.

The investigations pursued on the morning when the crime was committed showed that the murderess, after leaving the stable, had taken the footpath which led to the river.  The river was dragged—­without result.  It remains doubtful to this day whether she died by drowning or not.  The one thing certain is—­that Alicia Warlock was never seen again.

So—­beginning in mystery, ending in mystery—­the Dream Woman passes from your view.  Ghost; demon; or living human creature—­say for yourselves which she is.  Or, knowing what unfathomed wonders are around you, what unfathomed wonders are in you, let the wise words of the greatest of all poets be explanation enough: 

          “We are such stuff
    As dreams are made of, and our little life
    Is rounded with, a sleep.”

Anonymous

The Lost Duchess

I

“Has the duchess returned?”

“No, your grace.”

Knowles came farther into the room.  He had a letter on a salver.  When the duke had taken it, Knowles still lingered.  The duke glanced at him.

“Is an answer required?”

“No, your grace.”  Still Knowles lingered.  “Something a little singular has happened.  The carriage has returned without the duchess, and the men say that they thought her grace was in it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I hardly understand myself, your grace.  Perhaps you would like to see Barnes.”

Barnes was the coachman.

“Send him up.”  When Knowles had gone, and he was alone, his grace showed signs of being slightly annoyed.  He looked at his watch.  “I told her she’d better be in by four.  She says that she’s not feeling well, and yet one would think that she was not aware of the fatigue entailed in having the prince come to dinner, and a mob of people to follow.  I particularly wished her to lie down for a couple of hours.”

Knowles ushered in not only Barnes, the coachman, but Moysey, the footman, too.  Both these persons seemed to be ill at ease.  The duke glanced at them sharply.  In his voice there was a suggestion of impatience.

“What is the matter?”

Barnes explained as best he could.

“If you please, your grace, we waited for the duchess outside Cane and Wilson’s, the drapers.  The duchess came out, got into the carriage, and Moysey shut the door, and her grace said, ‘Home!’ and yet when we got home she wasn’t there.”