"Oh! this wicked, accursed town! How did it happen? Do
tell me all you know."
"We are completely in the dark. We know nothing more than that Lord
Lydstone was found stabbed at daylight this morning in the streets of
Stamboul."
"What could have taken him there?"
The _attache_ shrugged his shoulders.
"There is nothing to show, except that he was inveigled by some
mysterious communication--a letter sent on board the yacht."
"Inveigled for some base purpose--robbery, perhaps?"
"Very probably. When the body was found, it had been rifled of
everything--watch, money, rings: everything had gone."
Mrs. Wilders sighed deeply. It might have been a sigh of relief, but
to the _attache_ it seemed a new symptom of horror.
"But how imprudent--how frightfully imprudent--of the poor dear lord
to venture alone, and so late at night, into that vile quarter. What
could have tempted him?"
"That's what we are all asking. Some unusually powerful motive must
have influenced him, we may be sure, and that I hope we may still
ascertain. It will be the first step towards detecting the authors of
the crime."
"They will be discovered, you think?"
"No efforts will be spared, you may be sure. The means at our disposal
are not very first-rate, perhaps, but we have been promised the
fullest help by the Turkish Minister of Police, and we shall leave no
stone unturned.
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