THE JEWELLED SNUFF BOX

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXXI, Issue 15488, 14 December 1910, Page 12

THE JEWELLED SNUFF BOX

(By .MICHAEL STALK.) Auifc a- of “The Broken V:;se. ct'

Au. Uioira Uesusvkw.j 1 suppose 1 ought to have been annoyed;l ought to have dwp.aywl. P I'osMonal ioaloupv. Hut 1 nid iuuUut. When Winters, my chief, called me mto his private office mid told mo that he bad decided to put Thorpe Hii/.a: in charge ot the case of the Maryleboi •- murder, over my head. I .simply felt glad. As f have said. I wos not • P< master of iny craft in those daya J there was no one irnm whom 1 no K 1 more willingly learn than 1 hoi pc. Ai , besides. T humbly confess it. .hat case hud carried mo out of my dep<: ; Ji. •• Report to Haza rat once, said the chief, in his cold, concise manner. " You will work in conjunction with luni. and under his orders.'’ ... Leaving the office. 1 jumped into a cab and drove off to Soho ft was nearly a fortnight since I had seen my friend. A fortnight spent, m vain efforts. futile work on my part, and all on mm of those cases when a red-hot •scent is most necessary. A street murdor is always the most dithcult ‘tiling deal with in our business. Clues are invariably slender, and rarely fruitltil. And now. after over a fortnight had elapsed, and the freshest scent had worn off rjoor old Thorpe was burdened with tlm task. It was certainly rough on him. However, I must confess to a sneaking feeling of satisfaction. Jf he failed, then I could not. be blamed. If bo succeeded, 1 knew that he would ill no wise let me suffer by comparison. Within twenty minutes 1 found myself in tho parlour of Thorpe s little curiosity shop. Ho was out, and his shop hoy informed me that ho would roturn by twelve o’clock. I had a quarter of an hour to.wait, so amused myself with an inspection of the pots and crocks about me. And what a collection it was! Bronzes and brasses, china and enamels, old silver and pewters, tapestries and brocades, docks and curious instruments; all in a seeming dusty confusion, and to me barbaric, unclean. And yet I know that each article possessed a more or less interesting history, and, to Thorpe, they were gems of priceless vn lue. At twelve sharp my friend returned. I heard tho familiar footstep in the outer shop, and. the next moment, his loan fingers gripped mine tenaciously ; his tall, thin figure bent over me, and his greeting rang cheerily through the room. •‘'l heard from Winters this morning,” be said: ‘"that’s why f left word for you. Well, so the mystery remains?" He threw off his light overcoat and set down at Ids desk, and composed himself into a thoughtful attitude.

■• Let us review the details of the outrage. I will recite them as far as f know them," he said, in the businesslike tone I knew so well.

He paused, and his eyes were focussed on an object on the far side of the room. Then, without turning in my direction, he detailed the crime as far as the public knew it. •• Ar. three o'clock on the Sth of this month, exactly sixteen days ago, a murder was committed in Fernville Street, a turning off the Marylebone Road, and, by the way. at, obscure, rather poor and very quiet and welladapted road for such a daring crime," he began, in slow, measured tones. 1 could see that he was weighing every word he uttered. '"The day was rather foggy, and there was less traffic than usual. In fact, as regards horse traffic the road was deserted, and many of the houses had the gas lit. and some, even, tho blinds down. At the time of the crime there were very few pedestrians in the street. At the north end a powerful motor-car had broken down, and its oniv occupant, tho chauffeur, was repairing it. A group of youths stood around the car gaping in tho usual curious manner. Throe men turned into the street from the north end. and walked arm-in-arm down the west pavement. They seemed the worse for liquor, and lent each other support. They appeared to be of the artisan class. Half-way down the street, on the opposite side, two men, apparently gentlemen, both dressed in light overcoats and round hats, were pacing up and down, engaged in earnest conversation. On the same side, at the south end of the street, where it turns into the Marylebone Road, a group of four roughs were standing by a lamp-post. Just after a neighbouring clock had struck three a youngish-loosing man. a little shabby, might have been a ehesp clerk, turned the comer from the Marylebone Head. He walked, hurriedly, as though bound upon an urgent errand. The moment ho turned the corner a change came over the scene—this was observed by a muffin man. The drunken artisans crossed the road diagonally and came over towards tho two gentlemen, who were now distinctly quarrelling, while the four roughs were hurrying in the wake of the youngish man. " It so happened that nil the parties came together at the point where the gentlemen were quarrelling. The roughs had closed up on the youngish man, who had moved, out into the road to avoid the ouarrellers and ran into the drunks. The result was disastrous. There was a general melee in which the whole crowd was involved. Muffled cries for help were distinctly heard, but the muffin man fled for safety, shouting "Police!" The next thing the courageous fellow knew was that tho motor came tearing down the .street. The rattle o.' the engine was terrific. Windows were flung up, and cries of 'Murder!' filled the air. Then the car tore past him and swung into the .Marylebone Road. He noticed that there was only the driver in it, and the vehicle displayed no license number.

" When the police arrived it was discovered that the youngish man was dead in the road, his brains literally battered out. His pockets were empty, and he possessed nothing to identify him by. There was not even tho maker's name on his clothes, nor had his underlinen a single washing mark. The only clue was the trifle you found sewn in the lining of his coat-sleeve, a golden cross, surrounded with tongues of metallic flames.

" Curiously enough it has since fallen to my lot to explain the presence of that trinket. As I have already told you, it is the badge of membership of a secret, society which styles itself the Brotherhood of the Flaming Cross, and it possesses its headquarters in Denver City, Colorado. The murdered stranger was doubtless a member of this band. '• Until the cries alarmed the residents none of those in the houses heard or saw anything of what led up to tho trouble. This might ho accounted for by the time of day, the fogginess, or the gas being lit. The youths were too interested in the car to heed anything until tho alarm was given, and then they were too far away to see much. Those who profess to have kept their heads tell conflicting stories about tho car. They all say that tho chauffeur drove straight for the scene of the fight, but, after that, they differ. Some say he stopped and picked up passengers, others that he did not do so. The fog hindered their view. However, the muffin man says there was no one in tho car but the chauffeur when it passed him, and tho police corroborate his evidence, those who saw it racing down the Marylebone Road only qualifying their statement with the remark that the car possessed a high tonnoau in which passengers could easily have been secreted. Anyway, whoever the assassins wero, they made good their escape after doing their work only too well. That is the case as it appeared in the evening papers." As ho finished Thorpe looked over at me. and I noted the activity of his thoughts in tho intensity of Viis keen gnze. He went on almost immediately. "I have a great weakness for the subtler motives in he said pentwvaly. "'""'- ?~,< -resent case, rea-

■Bon certainly obtains. Sec, here " —he opened a drawer in his desk and produced a pretty toy in the shape of a email gold box. studded with jewels—- ' have a look at this." He smiled ono of his rare smiles a.s lie handed it to me. "Beautiful, isn't it? Look at •-.he lid. A capital N in diamonds surrounded with a laurel wreath in emeralds. Do you know what it is? No?" "s I shook my head. "It is a Napoleonic snuff-box. One that has been used by tho great Emperor himself. Thoro are only a few such treasures known to bo iii existence, and. luckily, [ happen to bo aware of their restingplaces." "You have an almost uncanny knowlodge of such things." I said, smiling. " Yes, it is very beautiful. But I don't see '' Thorpe shrugged his shoulders. "No, of course, you don't sea what this lias .to do with the case. But when I have tol<J you how I came into possession of it you will understand. ft was the day before yesterday, about six in the evening, that a ragged littlo urchin came furtively into the shop. Ho was very dirty, very frightened, and very hungry. The latter lie told me. First lie asked me if I bought 'things.' That's how he put it. 1 told him I only bought 'things' that suited me. At this ho looked very knowing and a trifle abashed. He couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. He asked me many questions and tried to extract promises of secrecy from me about this particular 'thing' lie had. However, to come to tho point, he produced this box from inside his shirt and asked mo to give him five shillings for it. The sight of the tiling fairly took my breath away, hut I kent my countenance and forced his story from him. It appears that he was in Fernville Street at tho time of the murder; he was with the crowd round the car. When the alarm was. given he ran down with tho rest, but, being .small, was tho last to get to the scene of action. He dodged around trying to get near the corpse of the murdered man, but failed, and it wan while he was on tho outskirts of the crowd that he lit on this snuff-box. It was lying in the mud directly in the track of the car. The excitement of the moment held the others, and SO' it had passed unnoticed. Ho was on it like a knife, and, after deep pendoring and many misgivings, he decided to try and sell it. He told me, with great candour, that he had come to me because ho knew that foreigners didn't mind how ' things' were como by, and ' wouldn't ask no questions.' " Well, T lectured him roundly, and finally gave him ton shillings in small change. Ho was straight enough. I ascertained this by a close cross-ex-amination. He was very sharp, and remembered every detail of what occurred in. the street at the time of the murder. Ho positively assured me that he saw tho car stop and pick up two men. And he minutely described the two quarrellers." "Then the box was stolen from the murdered man; and, since you know to whom these snuff-boxes belong, we have established his identity," I broke in eagerly. " Not so fast, Stark," Thorpe said, in his keen, incisive way. " Your deductions are too precipitate. It might be as you say, but, on the other hand --sec. wo will gauge the possibilities. Setting hooliganism aside, which tho presence of the car must preclude, the matter becomes the result of a plot. It is impossible to believe in a murder for the sake of that trinket, although it is alleged that such things have happened. Besides, the thieves would never have dropped such booty once they obtained possession of it. No it was no robbery. That jewel was the property of one" of the two men who jumped into tho car. In the struggle it is quite possible that it was jerked out of an inner pocket, and, falling into the soft mud, was so lost. It appeals to mo as a cluo to the murderers, and not to the murdered. Obviously my first measure was to ascertain the safety of the other snuff-boxes I know to be in existence. This was easily done. There aro only four of this particular pattern. Three of them arc accounted for. The fourth passed out of the original owner's possession into that of a gambling-house-keeper's in Denver City, Colorado. Mark the point. Tho murdered man belonged to a secret society whose headquarters aro in that city." "I at once put myself into communication with tho.police of Denver—as you know I worked with them in connection with the great kidnapping case, and was fortunate enough to be of considerable service to them--and they promptly returned me all tho information they possessed. Tho description 'of the murdered man corresponds with the description of a member of the Brotherhood of the Flaming Cross, who left the city suddenly about two and a half months ago. It is supposed by the police that he fell foul of his associates and fled. He was known to be a heavy gambler, and, at ono time, ran a faro dive himself. He was a foreigner from either Poland or Russia, although ho passed under the name of Joseph Smith. This, of course, rather points to his being the owner of the snuff-box. However, we must not jump too much at conclusions. In spite of this somewhat vague evidence, I have elected to work out my own theory. Therefore I inserted an advertisement in this morning's ' Telegraph ' inviting anyone who has lost a jewelled snuff-box to call at this shop after one o'clock. Human nature is a great factor in the discovery of crime. Even a murderer is loth to part with such a treasure as this snuffbox, and will probably adopt some ruse to recover it."

1 nodded. And Thorpe rose from his seat and deposited the pretty jewel in his safe.

"Now, Stark," he went on when he had reloeked the iron door, " I want you to take my place here and interview each claimant. T am going upstairs, and shall witness tho interviews from a'hiding place. These are your instructions. The applicants must describe the box accurately. Those who fail to do so you can dismiss summarily. To the oner—l say advisedly 'one,' for there will he only one—who gives the correct description you can mention the circumstances of the finding, but you must not let it be thought that tho box is here. Say that you will communicate with Scotland Yard, that you aro merely an expert whoso assistance has been called in by the authorities to discover the rightful owner. You must deny your real calling. You are simply a curiosity dealer. T think that is all. Urn—yes.' Now. I'll be off and leave you to it."

Thorpe departed upstairs, and almost simultaneously the first applicant arrived.

But it was after live o'clock before any satisfactory result was achieved. It was positively astounding how many people had lost jewelled snuff-boxes. Ono would have thought from the num-

her of applicants that sucli things were sts common as dirt. But all who came were wrong 'nns—dead wrong 'nns. i was very weary of it all and was half inclined to summon Thorpe when Louis announced a lady. ■' Another on 'era, sir.'' ho said, briefly. JLj was beyond politeness by this time. Tho lady come in, anil 1 took in the details of her appearance in one comprehensive glance. She was tall, strikingly handsome, and of a foreign, almost; Jewish typo, flcr dress iv.ss m perfect taste and costly, but she l.ad si decided air of Bohomiaiiism about her. " I have called in answer to your advertisement," sbo began. " Yes, yes," I interrupted her. " Precisely. You have- lost a snuffbox?" I looked her squarely in the eyes.

' She was very beautiful, but there was make-up on both eyes and cheeks. I could uot help thinking how unnecessary it was in Tier case. Her eyes were wonderful; deep, dark, and strangely luminous. They suggested a. world of pussionato nature—almost s;avago in their intensity. "That's just it, I have not lost one," she said quickly. " But please to listen." she went on, imperiously, as I made a move in the direction of the door suggestive of dismissing her. <: What I have to say may serve us both."

1 brought a chair forward and placed it directly in the gaslight. " I know someone who possesses a jewelled snuff-box, and may possibly nave lost it." This was different to tho usual statement, and I became interested. She seated herself and went on. And as she spoke her whole manner changed to one that was half pleading and wholly earnest. "If it proves to be the one you have found you may be able to help mo discover his whereabouts. He is my husband, and—and I have lost him."

She paused, breathing hard with the intensity of hex feelings. I waited for her to proceed.

" He has disappeared for nearly three weeks. To be exact, sixteen days." There was a slight hesitation, and her eyelids lowered. '' He left me after lunch on tho Monday intending to return to dinner. Since then he seems to have vanished. He had the snuffbos on him when he went out."

"Its description?" I asked sharply. " A gold, oblong box—very small, like a rather large match-box. There was the initial N on the lid in diamonds, and a laurel wreath encircled it composed of very beautiful emeralds. It once belonged to the great Napoleon."

"The exact description," I replied. My words had an electrical effect. Tho lady leaned forward with a passionate gesture that was rather dramatic.

"Yes, yes!" she cried, and her eyes glowed with a deep fire. " J knew it. It is he. Tell me of him. Where is he? It is my husband. Tell mo quickly. Oh, the suspense I have endured. It is killing me." I was taken aback. The situation was most uncomfortable.

"My dear lady, yon must calm yourself. I also am seeking your husband. That Was "

I broke oft suddenly as an inspiration enme to rue. I thrust my hand into an inner coat, pocket and drew forth a photograph of the murdered man taken after death, and held it out fo her. "Is that your husband?" I asked.

There was deathly silence whilo she gazed at the picture. I waited, and the moments passed. Sho Eat like a graven image, except that her eyes told of a great passion that moved her. Once she looked at me, and I could not withstand her jjazn. There was a wildness, a gricr and terrible mental agony behind it that set me, hardened as I was, shivering. Suddenly she bent agr.in over the picture, and a moan, inexpressibly woeful, broke from her lips. 1 realised that she understood the man in the picture to I?o dead.

Without further warning sho let the photograph slip from her hands, she covered her face, and a bitter cry escaped her. Her attitude was heartrending, and I sought to soothe hei But my efforts were quite vain; for awhile sho seemed quite inconsolable, and she sobbed out the agony of her heart in the most cruel, tearless weeping I have ever witnessed. At last she sprang from her seat. Her eyes were dry and stared wildly. "Tell me," she cried, in a choking voice, " that picture. I know. He is —it was taken. Oh, tell me, tell me; in heaven's name tell mo, or I shall go mad!" She was bordering on hysterics. I must speak plainly. Perhaps the truth might steady her. "It was taken after ho was dead," I said. "You know him? He is your ;?" " He is my husband."

Bo Thorpe was wrong; the snuff-box belonged to the murdered man. Her answer had come in a low tone. And I understood the repression she was exorcising. " He died—lie was killed—murdered in the street," I said slowly. It was no use beating about the bush, and I was no adept at breaking bad news. The result was excellent. " Tell me," was all she snid.

I sighed my thankfulness and proceeded to detail the facts of lier husband's murder. And she listened: how she. listened. It was just as though her life depended on every word T uttered. And all the while there was a b/ooding light in her great dark eyes such as ono might see in the eyes of a wounded animal. When I had finished she startled mo with all abrupt question. "Are you a police officer?" she nsked.

I lied quite glibly in answer. " No, madame, I am not. The jewel was placed in my hands by them, that I might endeavour to establish the identity of the murdered man._ _ You see I am.an expert in such curiosities as this snuff-box. I shall communicate with Scotland Yard at once. You, of course, would wish mo to do so?" She nodded. " I have not your name and address."

Just for one instant she seemed to hesitate, but it was only for the briefest possible space. Then she drew out a blank card and wrote something upon it and handed it to me:— COUNTESS RANDAROFF, 7, Bromford Court, Hampstead, N.W, I read this address and looked up. The black eyes wero fixed on my face. •"You will hear from Scotland Yard to-morrow," I said, and rose to terminate our interview.

When she had gone I confess I rcgrotted the orders which forbade crossexamination. 1 felt that something had been lost, but it was not for mo to not contrary to Thorpe's orders. However, I was given no time for reflection. Hardly had she p;issed out than my friend came downstairs. He had changed his wholo appearance, so that I scarcely recognised him. He waa clad in corduroys and the work-stained coat and shirt'of a bricklayer. His grey hair was hidden under a dark brown wig, and his face was ingrained with the signs of his trade. He paused only to fire his instructions at roe.

" Wait hero until I return," he said, and ran out of the shop. I knew we were on the right track at last.

It was nearly midnight when Thorpe returned. He came in looking utterly weary, and, walking straight to his desk without a word, flung himself into his chair. I waited for him to speak, out, as he remained silent, I took the initiative.

"Well?" I questioned. He looked uu at tho sound of my voice with a start.

'' First lot's forage for some supper," he .said, with a smile. " I'm starving and no doubt you can pecic a bit." I had forgotten food. Yes, now I came to think of it. J was distinctly

hungry. He ranscacked his cupboards and procured some cold moat, bread and cheese. This, with a couple ot bottles of ale 0 which Thorpe always kopt on hand, provided us with an ample meal.

And while we supped my friend told mo all that occurred, to him after he left me. " First of all, whet did vm; m.\ke of her?" ho asked. •" Oh, a woman of deep feeling ar.d strong character. Thoroughly genuine I should say and absolutely heartbroken when sho learnt of the death of her husband. By Jove. I pity the murderer if he drops into her hands.' 1 " Not bad, not bad. Stark. But ye u missed the chief point." "Eh!" I ejaculated, somewhat crftsifallen.

Thorpe laid his knife and fork down and rested his elbows on the desk. whilst ho clasped his lur.ds under his chin.

" She gave a. wonderful display cf genuineness and acting," ho answered slowly. "She was honestly distressed at the man's death, quite honestly, but. and hero is tho point, she lied when she said ho was her husband. I ask you what was her object? That we have yet to hnd out. And r.o shall find out. She is leading us tc the solution of tho mystery herself. That woman is clever—very clever; but she is of strong, passionate impulse, and she is being led by that impulse now. The murdered man was no more her husband than he was the owner of our snuff-box." "You have discovered some-thingr" 1 suggested. " Something—yes. But it if something that makes me anxious. We shall need to be watchful, and, when the time conies, we must, act- promptly -ot there will be a—catastrophe. Listen. Her ladyship dees not live at Jiampstead. Quite in the opposite direction: in Clapham Park. She has a furnisher house there, and is known as Mrs Vistoff, a widow, and appears to have plenty of money. 1 tracked her there first. * She remained there till nearly v nine o'clock and then came out. She went straight to Deptford. Taking tram and 'bus, I travelled by the same conveyances, and she seemed so bent on her purpose as to be quite oblivious to anything going on about her. It was quite easy for me to shadow her. " Her destination was a small back street of lodging-houses. Sho stopped at No. 37. I observed that there was an area entrance, so, permitting her to mount to tho front door and ring, I then crossed the road and went to the area door. As 1 anticipated her summons was answered first. I was directly below hor, and clearly heard all that passed.

" ' Have you heard any news of him?' I heard her ask of the person who opened the door. " ' Weil, mum," carae the answer in

a woman's voice, ' not as you'd call news, but I've had this letter asking as I'd forward his letters to 504, Widest- Street.. 1 don't know as it's the etiquette to tell you, mum, but you've treated me that 'ansonie, and business is dreadful, what with, the smallpox an' the taxes.'

" There was more conversation about tho man. but if was of no importanceto rue. I had learned all I wanted to know, and knew that our countess had done the. same. I hammered at the door again. "The landlady put hor head over the parapet of tho steps. "'l've called about the leak in the cellar, mum, as you've jest sent round about,' I. said. " ; Whit leak?' she asked sharply. ••' ' Why, you sent round urgent ax you'd a flood o' water in the cellar. This is 17, ain't it?' " ' No, it ain't. It's H 7, an' den't yen git hammerin' at wrong doors.' "I muttered an apology and made off, followed by further invective from tho irate dame. 1 only wanted to ascertain that tho count-eas returned to Clapham Park and then came on hcie. To-morrow, at eight o'clock, we mrst bo in Wid'ger Street. Wo must be there for tho delivery of the first po^t." "You think we shall get. the a-sn we are looking for?" I. asked. "We shall lay hands on that soman's husband. For the rest we must await developments. I am convinced that he was" present at the murder. and probably took part in it. This much she has practically told us in claiming tho snuff-box as her bus band's/ 7

I accepted a shake-down in Thorpe's house that night. Nor did I sleep very much. 1 know that trouble was coming. I saw it in my friend's Manner, iu "what he had left unsaid rather than in the things he had told me. However, I fell into a broken dumber at hist, and should assuredly have overslept myself but for him. He roused mo at six o'clock, and, after a hurried breakfast, we set out for Widger Street. It was a dreadful slum. Small shops and coster barrows. Reeked oi cheap breakfast rooms, and the roadway wav littered with vegetable refuse and fish scalings. Tho street, despite the early hour, was thronged with loafers, arid the costers were already arraying their barrows with their wares. Frowsy drabs hung about in dingy doorway?, and, at nearly every doorstep, unkempt children were playing. It was a dreadful street and worthy of the worst traditions of the neighbouring Dials. No. 504 was a paper shop and the window was filled with a mixture or sticky-looking sweets and alleged comic papsrs. A card, hanging agauist the window pane, announced that letters could be addressed there. Thorpe and * were both carefully disguised, and we fell into the loafing ranks without exciting the slightest suspicion. This sort of work was quite elementary of our profession, and we had no fears of catastrophe in that direction. Thorpe took up his station on the opposite fiide of the road, while I mixed with the crowd on the samu side as the shop. It was ray friena a conviction that the countess would arrive in time for tho first post. And ho was right. She came shortly after eight o'clock. And it says much for her alertness and the strength of her purpose that she eam» so early and to such a place. She, too, had changed her appearance. Tho fine clothes were gone and had been replaced by a plain black skirt and a long black cloak. But her fine faco and magnificent carnage refused to bo hidden. She was on Thorpe's side of the road, and I could eee that he was watching her closely. I, too, watched from behind a rampart of barrows, but developments were slow and the weary minutes dragged by. The woman stood staring, without any attempt at concealment, with hungry eyes at the wretched shop. To me she now seeme4 a creature utterly apart from the grioffitvickon woman I had mot the day before. ~ • At last, just about 9.30. tho weannew of waiting was suddenly banished by s turn of the woman's head. I toUow«J the direction of her gaze, and beheld * man coining rapidly down the street He was of medium height and clean shaved, very dark and pronouncedly ft foreigner: His sober coloured overcoat and soft black hat gave evidence of lair prosperity. I glanced in Thorpe s dire©, tion • he, too, was watching the stranger. ' I felt nervous, perhaps a for* warning. , . , For a moment the man was lost behind a large barrow. He pushed his way unceremoniously through the loafing crowd and came on towards. the shop. The woman had crossed the street, and was also moving to '.M paper shop. My nerves were strung tense. . . A moment later the man passed m at tho door, and the woman came up to the window and looked in. She edged along right up to the door and waited. Quito suddenly I heard tho pro-concert-ed signal from Thorpe, r.nd, looking in his direction, beheld bim burrying acrot*

tliie road. That signal was " alarm," and meant " close up," and I hurried to meet him. I forced my way as quickly |as I could towards where the woman stood; I was not more than ten yards jaway from her. I had an unobstructed tview. Tho man appeared in the doorjway reading a letter. He came out. Suddenly the womaii moved ; her cloak 'flew from her shoulders, and she flung jout her arms._ She held some vassel in [one hand. I just heard a faint splash, then came a terrible cry from the man, following which'someone shouted "Vitriol !'' . I ran up, but was too late. Tho !woman had. attacked the blinded man with a long knife. Three times she had plunged the weapon into his breast before I reached tho. spot. He dropped at her feet as Thorpe and I seised her. She struggled like a tiger to take her own life, but wo managed to wrench the dripping weapon from her hand and Werpowev her. i By this time the mob was howling about us in a threatening manner. It is not an easy neighbourhood. But the ipolice rushed upon the scene and re•lieved us of cur responsibilities. Then Thorpe unado himself known, and wo j moved away. . -

I We have failed— dismally failed," said my companion, as we drove in a cab down to bead-quarters to report. ," Bub I think we shall learn the truth, iwhich, after all, may afford us some consolation."

And he was quite right. The truth earns from the countess, and can be told in a few words. She confessed in tho police station, and a sordid tale eho told.

i Her name, she said, was Amelino Randaroff. Sho was married at an early age to a brutal man, Count Paul Lazaroff, a Pole. He was the man she had first blinded with vitriol and then done to death in Widger Street. Her husband had been banished from Poland for conspiracy against the Russian Government. His banishment occurred hi connection with the breaking up of the Brotherhood of the Flaming Cross. He, with many cf his compatriots, migrated to Denver City, Colorado, where he ran a gambling hell—and it was in this place that he acquired the enuff-box from its original owner --and welded once more tho broken links of the Brotherhood. Lazaroff had always been a jealous and vindictive husband. Ameline being attractive, ,was not without admirers, which aggravated him beyond endurance, and his conduct became too outrageous to be endured. Her affections were thus quite alienated, aud, being a woman as passionate as himself, she retaliated upon him. Their life'together from that moment became a living heTi. It was at this 'time that young Verkenski appeared upon tho scene. It was tho old story—intrigue followed by tho elopement of tho lovers, only, in this case, with a husband moro deadly than a. serpent on their trail. He tracked them to London. Amelino was well informed of Lnzaroff's movements and took precautions, one of which was her despatching of her lover disguised to make for tho Continent by a circuitous ionte. In the meantime she had ascertained where her husband was staying. Quito "what sho intended by him sho did not state, but it was easy to guess. However, ho forestalled her by murdering her lover in Fernville Street whilo he was making for St Pancras Station, and then disappeared himaelf. She know nothing of-the murder; never associated the account in tho papers with Verkenski. But she learned of Lazaroff's departure, and believfxl him to be pursuing her lover. Then she 6aw the advertisement cf the jewelled snuffbox in the "Telegraph," and realised that through this she might learn of Lazaroff's whereabouts. And so sho came to the shop in Bono. The rest we know. .

it was some days Liter that Thorpo and I sat in his little parlour reviewing the case.

"We need take no pride to ourselves," ho said. " The case has worked out. and we know all wo want to know. 'But—ah I well, Ameline was a clever iwoman. but her cleverness was overruled by her passions." I "Sho. was a thoroughly deadly person, ;' I replied. "1 don't admit tho cleverness.

iV Recall your interview with he Her acting was superb. You were pe.fectly taken in by her manner. Her search tor her husband; the motive seemed plainly affection. The photograph; her anguish when she realised /tho death of her lover was quite in keeping with the death of a husband." L Ye ?'\ * admitted, reluctantly, r" Maybe I am extra dense; but what did she gain by claiming her lover as her fliusband ?:'. | "■ That seems to me quite simple," replied my friend, pensively examining a ■small golden crucifix. " She realised irom the outset that you wero a police.officer. The evidence of tho snuff-box Snade it quite plain that you wanted her husband. Why did you want him? Why do the police ever want a man ? Probably she argued it out in her own way. iHe might be suspected of the murder: any way, if she claimed the dead man las her husband there would be no reason tor. detaining her. and suspicion, if any, would be averted from Lazaroff. Which would give her the opoortunity of arevenge she wanted. Make up your £nnd she realised that her husband was responsible for Verkenski's murder ■Yes; she- was clever, but I had no suspicion of what she intended to do to liim. Wo can see and explain things nftor the case is all over. It is so easy. 'But, nevertheless, I have failed in tho handling of this affair.'' ! "One of tho most interesting features of the case was the motor-car " T paid. "I doubt if we shall ever learn Who helped Lazaroff." " No. Yon are right. N'o doubt Jjazaroff was a, wealthy man. You remember he owned a gambling house. Crimes such as this are always a question of money. There aro, as wo both Jcnow, hundreds of people in overy u.g fcity ready to embark on any crime 3 sufficient cash is forthcoming. ' | I said nothing, and Thorpe went on jagai.n : I "It is the old stumbling-block over again, you see. The case, I moan. j.he obvious solution. We were both wrong. You believed in hooliganism; I in the Inner workings of the Brotherhood of the Flaming Cross. It was neither. A ,wretched, sordid intrigue. Human nature defeats Us ©very time."