"Well," growled Blueskin, "you've had my offer. And I think also that Gosse—I mean that one who calls himself Valade—stole it. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit.
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