It seemed as if she knew the port of Ostend fairly well.

The moon shone like day, and Nella had full opportunity to observe her quarry.

She could see now quite plainly that the Baroness Zerlinski had been only Miss Spencer in disguise.

There was the same gait, the same movement of the head and of the hips; the white hair was easily to be accounted for by a wig, and the wrinkles by a paint brush and some grease paints.

Miss Spencer, whose hair was now its old accustomed yellow, got through the Custom House without difficulty, and Nella saw her call a closed carriage and say something to the driver.