"And Rhoda?"
"Rhoda is still missing.
The police are getting warrants out for the servant, for Wrent, for Mrs. Clear, and for Lydia Vrain.
Ferruci, luckily for himself and his family, has escaped the law by his own act.
It was the wisest thing the scoundrel could do to kill himself and avoid dishonour.
I must admit the man had pluck."
"It is terrible! terrible!
What will be the end of it?"
"Imprisonment for the lot, I expect, unless they can prove that Wrent murdered Clear; then they will hang him.
But now that Ferruci is dead, I fancy Rhoda is the only witness who can prove Wrent's guilt.
That is why she ran away.
I don't wonder she was afraid to stay.
But I feel quite worn out with all this, Diana. Please give me a biscuit and a glass of port; I have had nothing all day."
With a sigh, Diana touched the bell, and when the waiter made his appearance gave the order.
She felt low-spirited and nervous, in spite of the discovery that her father was alive and well; and indeed the extraordinary events of the last few days were sufficient to upset the strongest mind.
Lucian was leaning back in his chair with closed eyes, for his head was aching with the excitement of the morning.
Suddenly he opened them and jumped up.
At the same time Diana threw open the door with an exclamation, and both of them heard the thin, high voice of a woman, who apparently was coming up the stairs.
"Never mind my name," said the voice, "I'll tell it to Miss Vrain myself.
Take me to her at once."
"Lydia!" called Lucian, "and here?
Great heavens!
Why does she come here?"
Diana said nothing, but compressed her lips as Lydia, followed by the waiter with the biscuits and wine, came into the room.
She was plainly and neatly dressed, and wore a heavy veil, but seemed greatly excited.
She did not say a word, nor did Diana, until the waiter left the room and closed the door.
Then she threw up her veil, revealing a haggard face and red eyes, swollen with weeping, and filled with an expression of terror.
"Sakes alive! isn't this awful?" she wailed, making a clutch at Miss Vrain's arm. "You've done it, this time, Diana.
Ferruci's dead, and your father alive, and I'm not a widow, and my father away I don't know where!
I was told that the police were after me, so I'm clearing out."
"Clearing out, Mrs. Vrain?" repeated Diana, stiffly.
"I should think so!" sobbed Lydia. "I don't want to stay and be put in gaol, though what I've done to be put in gaol for, I don't know."
"What?" cried Lucian indignantly. "You don't know—when this abominable conspiracy is——"
"I know nothing of the conspiracy," interrupted Lydia.
"Did you not get Ferruci to put your husband into an asylum?"
"I?
I did nothing of the sort.
I thought my husband was dead and buried until Ferruci told me the truth, and then I held my tongue until I could think of what to do.
After Ercole died, his servant came round and told me all—he overheard the conversation you had with the Count, Mr. Denzil. I was never so astonished in my life as to hear about Mrs. Clear and her husband—and Mark alive—and—and—oh, Lord! isn't it dreadful?
Give me a glass of wine, Diana, or I'll go right off in a dead faint!"
In silence Miss Vrain poured out a glass of port and handed it to her stepmother, who sipped it in a most tearful mood.
Lucian looked at the wretched little woman without saying a word, and wondered if, indeed, she was as innocent as she made herself out to be.
He thought that, after all, she might be ignorant of Ferruci's plots, although she had certainly benefited by them; but she was such a glib liar that he did not know how much to believe of her story.
However, she had hitherto only given a general idea of her connection with the matter, so when she had finished her wine, and was somewhat calmer, Lucian begged her to be more explicit.
"Did you know—did you guess, or even suspect—that your husband was alive?"
"Mr. Denzil," said Lydia, with unusual solemnity, "as I'm a married woman, and not the widow I thought I was, I did not know that Mark was alive!
I'm bad, I daresay, but I am not bad enough to shut a man up in a lunatic asylum and pretend he is dead, just to get money, much as I like it.
What I did about identifying the corpse was done in good faith."
"You really thought it was my father's body?" questioned Diana doubtfully.
"I swear I did," responded Mrs. Vrain, emphatically. "Mark walked out of the house because he thought I was carrying on with Ferruci, which I wasn't.