was a foul invention.John Adams believed it--and because of that, among other things, is mybitterest enemy."
"But is there no way of proving the truth?" asked Rolfe, surprised atthis story.
"None. The fellow put forward in support of his story proofs which hehad forged. Adams naturally believed they were genuine."
"And where are those proofs now?"
"Probably in Adams' possession. He has no doubt hoarded them for use atthe moment of his triumph."
Rolfe did not speak for several moments.
"A week ago those proofs might, I believe, have been purchased for around sum."
"Could they not be purchased now? From the man's appearance he ispenniless."
"Not so poor as you think. If what I've heard is true, he is inpossession of funds. His shabbiness is only assumed. Have you anyknowledge of a certain man named Lyle--a short man slightly deformed."
"Lyle!" gasped his employer. "Do you mean Leonard Lyle? What do youknow of him?"
"I saw him in the company of Adams. It is he who supplies the latterwith money."
"Lyle!" cried Statham, his eyes glaring in amazement. "Lyle here--inLondon?"
"He was here a week ago. You know him?"
"Know him--yes!" answered the old millionaire, hoarsely. "Are youcertain that he has become Adams' friend?"
"I saw them together with my own eyes. They were sitting in the CafeRoyal, in Regent Street. Adams was in evening-dress, and wore anopera-hat. They'd been to the Empire together."
"Why didn't you tell me all this before?" asked Statham, in a tone ofblank despair. "I--I see now all the difficulties that have arisen.The pair have united to wreak their vengeance upon me, and I ampowerless and unprotected."
"But who is this man Leonard Lyle?" inquired the secretary.
"A man without a conscience. He was a mining engineer, and is now, Isuppose--a short, white-moustached man, with a slightly humped back anda squeaky voice."
"The same."
"Why didn't you tell me this before? If Lyle knows Adams, the positionis doubly dangerous," he exclaimed, in abject dismay. "No," he added,bitterly; "there can be no way out."
"I said nothing because you had refused to believe."
"You saw them together after you had told me of Adams' return, orbefore?"
"After," he replied. "Even though you refused to believe me, Icontinued to remain watchful in your interests and those of the firm. Ispent several evenings in watching their movements."
"Ah! you are loyal to me, I know, Rolfe. You shall not regret this.Hitherto I have not treated you well, but I will now try and atone forthe manner in which I misjudged you. I ask your pardon."
"For what?" inquired Rolfe, in surprise.
"For believing ill of you," was all the old man vouchsafed.
"I tried to do my duty as your secretary," was all he said.
"Your duty. You have done more. You have watched my enemies eventhough I sneered at your well-meant warning," he said. "But if you havewatched, you perhaps know where the pair are in hiding."
"Lyle lives at the First Avenue Hotel, in Holborn. Adams lives in asmall furnished flat in Addison Mansions, close to Addison Road railwaystation."
"Lives there in preference to an hotel because he can go in and outshabby and down-at-heel without attracting comment--eh?"
"I suppose so. I had great difficulty in following him to hishiding-place without arousing his suspicions."
"Does he really mean mischief?" asked the principal of Statham Brothers,bending slightly towards his secretary.
"Yes; undoubtedly he does. The pair are here with the intention ofbringing ruin upon you and upon the house of Statham," was Rolfe's quietreply.
"Then only you can save me, Rolfe," cried the old man, starting upwildly.
"How? Tell me, and I am ready to act upon your instructions," Rolfesaid.
The millionaire placed his hand upon the young man's shoulder and said:
"Repeat those words."
Rolfe did so.
"And you will not seek to inquire the reason of a request I may make toyou, even though it may sound an extraordinary and perhaps mysteriousone?"
"I will act as you wish, without desiring to know your motives."
The great financier stood looking straight into his secretary's eyes.He was deeply in earnest, for his very life now depended upon theother's assent. How could he put the proposal to the man before him?
"Then I take that as a promise, Rolfe," he said at last. "You will notwithdraw. You will swear to assist me at all hazards--to save me fromthese men."
"I swear."
"Good! Then to-day--nay, at this very hour--you must make what no doubtwill be to you a great sacrifice."
"What do you mean?" asked Rolfe, quickly.
"I mean," the old man said, in a very slow distinct voice--"I mean thatyou must first sacrifice the honour of the woman you love--MaudPetrovitch."
"Maud Petrovitch!" he gasped, utterly mystified.
"Yes," he answered. "You have promised to save me--you have sworn toassist me, and the sacrifice is imperative! It is her honour--or mydeath!"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
DESCRIBES THE MAN FROM NOWHERE.
Late that same night, in the small and rather well-furnished dining-roomof a flat close to Addison Road station, the beetle-browed man known tosome as John Adams and to others as Jean Adam was seated in acomfortable armchair smoking a cigarette.
He was no longer the shabby, half-famished looking stranger who had beenwatching outside Statham's house in Park Lane, but rather dandified inhis neat dinner jacket, glossy shirt-front, and black tie. Adventurerwas written all over his face. He was a man whose whole life historyhad been a romance and who had knocked about in various odd andout-of-the-way corners of the world. A cosmopolitan to the backbone,he, like his friend Leonard Lyle, whom he was at that moment expecting,hated the trammels of civilised society, and their lives had mostly beenspent in places where human life was cheap and where justice wasunknown.
Alone in that small room where the dinner-cloth had been removed and adecanter and glasses had been placed by his one elderly serving-woman,who had now gone for the night, he was muttering to himself as hesmoked--murmuring incoherent words that sounded much like threats.
It was difficult to recognise in this well-groomed, gentlemanly-lookingman, with the diamond in his shirt-front and the sparkling ring upon hisfinger, the low-looking tramp whose eyes had encountered those of theman whose ruin he now sought to encompass.
In half a dozen capitals of the world he was known as Jean Adam, for hespoke French perfectly, and passed as a French subject, a native ofAlgiers; but in London, New York, and Montreal he was known as thewandering and adventurous Englishman John Adams.
Whether he was really English was doubtful. True, he spoke Englishwithout the slightest trace of accent, yet sometimes in his gesture,when unduly excited, there was unconsciously betrayed his foreign birth.
His French was as perfect as his English. He spoke with an accent ofthe South, and none ever dreamed that he could at the same time speakthe pure, unadulterated Cockney slang.
He had just glanced at his watch, and knit his brows when the electricbell rang, and he rose to admit a short, triangular-faced, queer-lookinglittle old man, whose back was bent and whose body seemed too large forhis legs. He, too, was in evening-dress, and carried his overcoatacross his arm.
"I began to fear, old chap, that you couldn't come," Adams exclaimed, ashe hung his friend's coat in the narrow hall. "You didn't acknowledgemy wire."
"I couldn't until too late. I was out," the other explained, in a toneof apology. "Well," he asked, with a sigh, as he stretched himselfbefore he seated himself in the proffered chair, "what has happened?"
"A lot, my dear fellow. We shall come out on top yet."
"Be more explicit. What do you mean?"
"What I say," was Adams' response. "I've seen old Statham to-day."
; "And he's seen you--eh?"
"Of course he has. And he's scared out of his senses--thinks he's seena ghost, most likely," he laughed, in triumph. "But he'll find I'm muchmore than a ghost before he's much older, the canting old blackguard."
Lyle thought for a second.
"The sight of you has forearmed him! It was rather injudicious just atthis moment, wasn't it?"
"Not at all. I meant to give him a surprise. If I'd have gone up tothe house, rung the bell, and asked to see him, I should have beenrefused. He