Lambert drew a long breath of relief.  “I am glad,” he said simply, “as I never should have felt safe while she remained in England.”

“Felt safe?” echoed the officer suspiciously.

His host nodded and told the man to take a seat again.  Then, without wasting further time, he related the real truth about the forged letter.  Darby listened to the recital in amazement and shook his head sadly over the delinquency of the late Lord Garvington.

“Well!  Well!” said the inspector staring, “to think as a nobleman born and bred should act in this way.”

“Why shouldn’t a nobleman be wicked as well as the grocer?” said Lambert impatiently, “and according to the socialistic press all the evil of humanity is to be found in aristocratic circles.  However, you know the exact truth, Mr. Inspector, and I have confided to you the secret which concerns the honor of my family.  You won’t abuse my confidence.”

Darby rose and extended his hand.  “You may be sure of that, my lord.  What you have told me will never be repeated.  Everything in connection with this matter is finished, and you will hear no more about it.”

“I’m glad and thankful,” said the other, again drawing a breath of relief, “and to show my appreciation of your services, Darby, I shall send you a substantial check.”

“Oh, my lord, I couldn’t take it.  I only did my duty.”

“I think you did a great deal more than that,” answered the new Lord Garvington dryly, “and had you acted entirely on the evidence you gathered together, and especially on the confession of that miserable woman, you might have made public much that I would prefer to keep private.  Take the money from a friend, Darby, and as a mark of esteem for a man.”

“Thank you, my lord,” replied the inspector straightly, “I don’t deny but what my conscience and my duty to the Government will allow me to take it since you put it in that way.  And as I am not a rich man the money will be welcome.  Thank you!”

With a warm hand-shake the inspector took his departure and Noel offered up a silent prayer of thankfulness to God that things had turned out so admirably.  His shifty cousin was now dead and there was no longer any danger that the honor of the family, for which so much had been sacrificed, both by himself and Agnes, would be smirched.  The young man regretted the death of Mother Cockleshell, who had been so well disposed toward his wife and himself, but he rejoiced that Chaldea had left England under the guardianship of Kara, as henceforth—­if he knew anything of the dwarf’s jealous disposition—­the girl would trouble him no more.  And Silver was dead and buried, which did away with any possible trouble coming from that quarter.  Finally, poor Miss Greeby, who had sinned for love, was out of the way and there was no need to be anxious on her account.  Fate had made a clean sweep of all the actors in the tragedy, and Lambert hoped that this particular play was ended.