secret apparatus had stirred another chord in her memory—one that caused her both fierce anger and bitter remorse.
That fact, in itself, revealed to me quite plainly that her tragic experiences, whatever they might have been, had some curious connexion with our invention for the destruction of Zeppelins. Thus, arguing with myself further, I became more than ever convinced that she, in all her innocence, had fallen defenceless into the unscrupulous grip of the terrible but relentless Invisible Hand.
Why did she so persistently withhold from me the truth? What more natural than, knowing the identity of her enemies, she should seek to denounce and justly punish them? Now she was back at my side she surely could not fear them!
Certainly her demeanour was most mysterious, and I stood there, facing her, utterly bewildered. The expression in her dear face was quite uncanny.
Once again I begged her to tell me something—however slight—regarding what had occurred to her. I told her of our tireless search; of the eager hue and cry; of the publication of her portrait, and of the offered reward for any information.
'Ah!' she replied, with a strange, faint smile, as though of triumph almost. 'All that was to no effect. The precautions taken were far too complete. Nobody could have found me—for I was in a living grave.'
'Yes,' I said, hoping that she would reveal to me something more, however vague. 'Tell me about it, darling. Do, Roseye.'
'Tell you!' she echoed with angry resentment,
