The doctor let himself into his own rooms, closed the door, switched out the light and stepped into his bureau.
"Hello," he said angrily, "what are you doing here?—I told you not to come."
The girl who was sitting at the table and who now rose to meet him was breathless, and he read trouble in her face. He could have read pride there, too, that she had so well served the man whom she idolized as a god.
"I've got him, I've got him, Julius!"
"Got him! Got whom?" he asked, with a frown.
"Beale!" she said eagerly, "the great Beale!"
She gurgled with hysterical laughter.
"He came to me, he was going to arrest me to-night, but I got him."
"Sit down," he said firmly, "and try to be coherent, Hilda. Who came to you?"
"Beale. He came to my boarding-house and wanted to know where you had taken Oliva Cresswell. Have you taken her?" she asked earnestly.
"Go on," he said.
"He came to me full of arrogance and threats. He was going to have me arrested, Julius, because of those letters which I gave you. But I didn't worry about myself, Julius. It was all for you that I thought. The thought that you, my dear, great man, should be put in one of these horrible English prisons—oh, Julius!"
She rose, her eyes filled with tears, but he stood over her, laid his hands on her shoulders and pressed her back.
"Now, now. You must tell me everything. This is very serious. What happened then?"
"He wanted me to take him to one of the places."
"One of what places?" he asked quickly.
"I don't know. He only said that he knew that you had other houses—I don't even know that he said that, but that was the impression that he gave me, that he knew you were to be found somewhere."
"Go on," said the doctor.
"And so I thought and I thought," said the girl, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes looking up into his,
