Red Széll

She had helped Mrs. Schlesinger in the nursing of the convalescent saint.

He spent his day, as the manager described it to me, upon a lounge chair on the veranda, with an attendant lady upon either side of him.

He was preparing a map of the Holy Land, with special reference to the kingdom of the Midianites, upon which he was writing a monograph.

Finally, having improved much in health, he and his wife had returned to London, and Lady Frances had started thither in their company.

This was just three weeks before, and the manager had heard nothing since.

As to the maid Marie,

She had gone off some days beforehand in floods of tears after informing the other maids that she was leaving service forever.

Dr Schlesinger had paid the bill of the whole party before his departure.

By the way, said the landlord in conclusion, you are not the only friend of Lady Frances Carfax who is inquiring after her just now.

Only a week or so ago we had a man here upon the same errand.

Did he give a name?

I asked.

None, but he was an Englishman, though of an unusual type.

A savage, said I, linking my facts after the fashion of my illustrious friend.

Exactly.

That describes him very well.

He is a bulky, bearded, sunburned fellow who looks as if he would be more at home in a farmer's inn than in a fashionable hotel.

A hard, fierce man, I should think, and one whom I should be sorry to offend.

Already the mystery began to define itself as figures grow clearer with the lifting of a fog.

Here was this good and pious lady pursued from place to place by a sinister and unrelenting figure.