“That’s good,” he said.  “I didn’t know that.  But just the same, she mustn’t remain there.  Even with the men on guard, you may be too late.”

“Just what is it you’re afraid of?” I asked him, curiously.  “Do you think her life’s in danger?”

“Worse than that!” said Swain thickly, his face suddenly livid.  “Oh, worse than that!”

I confess that I caught something of his horror; but I shook myself impatiently.

“I can’t believe that,” I said.  “But, in any case, our men will be at hand.  At the least outcry they will burst into the house.  And remember, the three servants are there.”

“They cut no figure.  If they didn’t hear those screams the other night, do you think they would hear any others?  You must get her away from there, Mr. Lester,” he went on rapidly.  “If she won’t come of her own accord, you must use force.”

“But, my dear Swain,” I objected, “I can’t do that.  Do you want me to kidnap her?”

“Just that—­if it’s necessary.”

“Then I’d soon be occupying a cell here, too.  I don’t see what good that would do.”

“It would save her,” he asserted, doggedly.  “It would save her.  That’s the only thing to consider.”

But I rose to my feet in sudden impatience; what consideration was she showing for him or for me or for anyone?

“You’re talking foolishly,” I said.  “You’d much better be thinking of your own danger; it’s much more real than hers.”  I had an impulse to add that, since she had chosen her path, it was folly to waste pity upon her, but I managed to check the words.  “Has any new light on the case occurred to you?”

“No,” he answered, listlessly, “I haven’t thought about it.  When do you see her again, Mr. Lester?”

“I’m to see her to-night.”

“Will you give her a note from me?”

“Yes,” I agreed.

His face lighted again at that, and he cleared a corner of his table and sat down to write the note.  It was evidently difficult to compose, for he tore up two drafts before he got one to suit him.  But at last it was done, and he folded it, rummaged an envelope out of a pile of papers on a chair, slipped the note into it, and handed it to me.

“There,” he said, and his face was bright with hope.  “I think that will settle it.”

I was far from sharing his certainty, but I put the envelope in my pocket, assured myself that there was nothing more I could do for him, and returned to the office.  Just as I was getting ready to leave, Mr. Royce came in, a chagrined look on his face.

“Mrs. Royce just telephoned me,” he said.  “She drove out there, as I asked her to, but Miss Vaughan refused to see her.”

I had expected it, but the certainty that we had failed again did not add to my cheerfulness.

“Swain wants us to kidnap her,” I said, with a twisted smile.

“I’m not sure but that he’s right,” said my partner, and went thoughtfully away.