I've come here to-day. I thought perhaps you could help me again."
"If only I could! But I've thought and thought. . . ."
Vance smiled.
"Let us do the thinking, Ada.—What I wanted to ask you is this: do you know if Sibella speaks German well?"
The girl appeared surprised.
"Why, yes. And so did Julia and Chester and Rex. Father insisted on their learning it. And he spoke it too—almost as well as he spoke English. As for Sibella, I've often heard her and Doctor Von talking in German."
"But she spoke with an accent, I suppose."
"A slight accent—she'd never been long in Germany. But she spoke very well German."
"That's what I wanted to be sure of."
"Then you do know something!" Her voice quavered with eagerness. "Oh, how long before this awful suspense will be over? Every night for weeks I've been afraid to turn out my lights and go to sleep."
"You needn't be afraid to turn out your lights now," Vance assured her. "There won't be any more attempts on your life, Ada."
She looked at him for a moment searchingly, and something in his manner seemed to hearten her. When we took our leave the color had come back to her cheeks.
Markham was pacing the library restlessly when we arrived home.
"I've checked several more points," Vance an-
