He would take with him that traitress Yolande, and claim to the lawyer that this was Melusine Charvill. But the five per cent. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. It wasn’t. The telegram dispatched, his obligation cancelled, Ah Cum proceeded homeward, chuckling occasionally. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. ‘Signed by a priest at Le Havre, so it must be true. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs.
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