As soon as Netherby (the clerk) saw what had happened he at once called for Marshland, who was sitting in the parlour in a state of utter collapse. On hearing that her precious Miss Helen had fainted, the good old woman ran at once to the office room.

Helen lay perfectly white and still upon the floor with Cyril's fatal letter clenched in her hand. Marshland instantly knelt down and placed her head at Helen's heart. "She is not dead" she cried triumphantly.

"What can we do?" asked Netherby in a shaky voice.

"I'll tell you" said Marshland getting up off the floor, you must take a cab and drive as fast as you can to Portman Square number 26, Miss Lincarrol is staying there with Lord Beaufort and I think her brother too; they are all staunch friends of Miss Helen's I know they will come at once, we can make no move, friendless as we are, without the help of Mr. Lincarrol or some one."

"Stop a bit" cried Netherby regaining his courage all of a sudden; something tells me the story Mr. Sheene speaks of in his letter is somewhere in the private chest, and as it is evidently meant for Miss Winston's private reading, I'll trouble you Mr. Wilson to let those papers alone and give me up the key."

"What right have you to the key any more than me?" asked Wilson sullenly.

"None I suppose" replied Netherby "but I know that you are subjecting yourself to the penalty of the law by ransacking that private chest, "I shall inform the police if you dont instantly deliver the key."

Netherby's altered manner rather cowed Wilson so very sulkily he gave up the key.

Then with a set determination Netherby collected all the papers etc: which Wilson had strewn over the desks tying them firmly together placed them back in the chest.

"Have you any more?" asked he before locking the chest.

"No" stoutly declared Mr. Wilson.

"I'm not so eager to belive you" replied Netherby.

"Why not?" enquired Wilson savagely.

"Because you're not extra fond of the truth" replied Netherby "and I'd rather satisfy myself that you have no more papers about you before I lock the chest."

"You'd better dare lay a finger on me" hissed Wilson.

"I dont want to" replied Netherby "but if you really have taken nothing, what is your objection to letting me see the contents of your pocket?"

"Oh I'll let you see the contents drawled Wilson and he proceeded to place a few articles on the desk.

Netherby was beginning to satisfy himself it was alright, when he noticed Wilson shuffling about with the inner pocket of his coat.

"Hurry up" exclaimed Netherby impatiently.

"Alright" cried Wilson nervously drawing out a rather dirty handkerchief; but fate was against him and with the handkerchief came a roll of bank notes.

Marshland gave a cry as she beheld the sight of the unhappy Wilson slink into a corner.

Netherby collected the notes placed them in the desk and without a word put on his hat and went out. In less that five minutes he returned accompanied by two policemen, who on a sign from Netherby advanced to Wilson and before the astonished man could say a word he found himself handcuffed and carefully guarded by the two officials.

Netherby and Marshland then gave an exact account of what had taken place and Netherby ended by saying "you see Wilson if you had shut the chest when I told you and concealed nothing I should have been the last to call the police, but when it came to robbing the chest in justice to Miss Winston I had to do my duty."

Wilson was too utterly dazed to say a word, and in a few moments Netherby, not liking to leave the house sent a messenger to portman Square.

In a couple of hours a cab drew up at the door, and out got Lawrence Lincarrol, Lord Beaufort, and a short thin man, who turned out to be Cyril Sheene's solicitor.

On hearing the story, Lord Beaufort said that Helen was to be taken at once to his house and that Marshland should accompany her. Accordingly the unconscious girl was lifted into the brougham and accompanied by the old servant drove off. "Your things shall be sent on" said Lord Beaufort to Marshland as he helped her into the cab "and a trained nurse shall be got for Miss Winston, meanwhile my servants quite understand what is to be done."

Then the cab drove off and Lord Beaufort entered the office.

Lawrence and Mr. Spriggs (the solicitor) were both busy interviewing Netherby, who now that he had done his duty and shown much good sence had relapsed into his old nervous state.

We had here better describe Lord Beaufort and Mr. Spriggs.

Lord Beaufort was a half Spaniard, his mother being of that nationality and his father (who was dead) an Englishman.

He took after his mother in looks. He was moderately tall and thin and might have been eight and thirty. He had straight black hair and beard and moustache, to match, the former being small and well cut, not the bushy kind. His handsome dark eyes were quite those of a foreigner and his teeth were beautifully white. He was particularly well dressed and even to his boots.

Very different indeed was Mr. Spriggs. A thin wiry little man about 5 feet 2 inches, with thin sandy coloured hair (a trifle bald), twinkly little blue eyes, a very pink face and carroty coloured moustache. He was attired in a rough tweed suit with knickaboccers, a turn down collar, very untidily put on, thick grey stockings, clumping boots, a green tie, and a dear stalker cap drawn well on to his head.

"Well the first thing to be done" said Mr. Spriggs in jerky tones "is to open the chest, and I being the solicitor will proceed to do it," and he stalked accross the room with a very high and mighty air and made a great commotion with the keys.

The chest being opened the contents were carefully examined. A blue envelope was first opened and contained the following information.

"This is to say that I, Cyril Sheene leave all my money, which is all in bank notes to my intended Helen Winston; it is not very much and does not exceed £150 but still I hope it will do as I can't afford any more. Dated August 11th."

This was all written in violet coloured ink by Cyril himself; but at the bottom of the paper a few lines were hastily scrawled in pencil.

"I hereby add that all my share of the money I stole from Mr. John Winston is in the black leather bag at the back of the chest. Helen will recognise the bag. Not a farthing has been spent and it is all to go to Helen. Dated October 14.

"That was written on the day of Mr. Sheene's departure announced Mr. Spriggs as he replaced the paper in its envelope, and this is the bag I suppose," he added dragging at a black leather bundle in a remote corner of the chest.

The bag it certainly was and on being opened £100 in ready gold tumbled on to the desk, and with it a slip of paper on which the reader will remember John Winston had written, "all this gold is bequeathed to my daughter Helen on the day when I shall be called upon to die," and was sealed with the writer's prifate seal.

Nothing else of great importance appeared except a bundle of white manuscript carefully tied up and sealed, addressed to Helen and marked "private."

"I know what that is!" cried Netherby excitedly "it is the story Mr. Sheene wrote about, look here sir" and he picked up Cyril's letter which had dropped from Helen's hand when she was lifted into the cab.

Mr. Spriggs carefully read the letter and placed it in the chest, "ah yes" he said addressing Lord Beaufort and Lawrence, "that story is evidently for Miss Winston's private eye, so it must be locked up till she is able to read it."

"Which wont be for a good while judging from her present condition," said Lawrence, "but now to business, what about this office, it is a difficult matter to carry it on without Mr. Sheene."

"As far as I can see, it must be kept on till Miss Winston's recovery" replied Mr. Spriggs "if no more news is heard of Mr. Sheene till then well Miss Winston can come and procure her money and various other papers which will of course be hers and then this place can be sold."

"Yes" said Lord Beaufort and I suppose Mr. Netherby will be the head man till then.

"Well yes" replied Mr. Spriggs "he must certainly be here to look after the place, and of course I shall look in occasionally to see all goes well; another young man can be got to be under Mr. Netherby as Mr. Wilson has gone to prison for attempted robbery; do you agree to that Mr. Netherby?"

"Oh yes sir" eagerly replied the clerk, who would not have disagreed for the world.

"And if it comes to the place being sold" added Lord Beaufort "you can come to me Mr. Netherby, I may have arranged something by then"

"Thank you very much sir" replied Netherby and after a few more matters had been arranged the three men left the office leaving Netherby in charge.

By the time Lord Beaufort and Lawrence got back home, a doctor had seen Helen. He said that when she recovered her senses, perfect rest and quiet would be all she needed, her brain being in a dazed condition. She would not be able to leave her bed for some time probably though nothing serious was the matter.

Helen remained unconscious all night and next day she was very delirious but towards 4 o'clock she dropped asleep and woke up about seven o'clock, her right senses returned to her, but still in a weak condition.