The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 28, 1903, Page 3

“It was more than good of you to come and say good-by to me,” he added. “I didn’'t come y for that, Noel; I thought it would be easy to explain, but t. Stl, I'm not sorry I came. You understand—if you are all I think you—how, when I heard that you were going. to Paris to met Mademoiselle de Nevers, whom you sald you would scarce- ly ‘cross the street to see’ I could not wait—deys, perhaps—to ask If it were true. i The effect of her words was like a shot. The bicod rushed over his face again in & wave, then died away, leaving him pale. There was an amazed, hurt, horrified look in his eyes. “‘Margot,” he exclaimed, *“who told you such a thing?” “I can't answer you that,” she sald “I must not. But is it true? Surely, after last hight, I have a right to ask. “Yes, you have a right to ask,” he re- peated, siowly. “Then—tell me! Whatever you say, I'll Delieve, Noel. I know rnet you wouldn't lis to me. Are you going to see Juliette de Nevers in P “I may see her,” he returned, driven into & corner. I was sorry for him. Yet I rejoiced. And I would bave done what I had done egain. “Do you mean that it will be a mere chance—that you're not going entirely to met her? “Margot, won't you trust me, and let me explain another time? Belisve me, I would now if I could, but it is impossi- ble.” *“Why impossible?™ “Because others are concerned besides mysel.” “Others! Yes—she That woman to whom you ere hurrying, today of all Cays.” / “You are cruel, Margot. If it were my choice to go—' “Would you put it all upen her? that would be still more unworthy. Oh, I am glad—glad that I came! If you not told me with your own lips I shou never have believed. I gave understand that this is the en - erstand nothing of * he broke in upon in a volce tc I didn’t count. he went on. I was nobody. will be sorry for th & few days—" “Mr. Brent, 1¢ you do not go you will miss your train; and think what a pity thi miss the train whic carries for the sake of a few trif me."” you to speak to me he exclaimed, with a kind of which would have soul had it been for ise to the Foreign Secretary to himself, the life of Juliette ers. 1 saw the struggle in his face; Noel Brent was not the man to yleld He must have gu ; that Margot yearned in anguish m cry; I will stay w rou!” re did this, she was his with all art, in spite of everything. That if not, perhaps she might never explanations as in future he might be at liberty to give. But be did not yleld—even for her; and how I ioved him for it! he said. the first-class carriage and as ned to go two men rushed at a compar * and opened it with a key they had in tfe com- showed me with his window ambled In de- objections, and Noel, who had to spare for picking and choos Gashed after them. ,I suppose he thought if these men could violate the sanctity of & reserved carriage he might do the same rather than miss his train, as every other compartment near seemed fuil. But evidently the men didn’t think with bim. They cried out that the carriage was reserved, and would have pushed Noel off if he hadn’t sternly clung on, the train e moving faster and faster and a gu rushing toward the scene with angry shouts of warning. It was all con- ed and hurried; but I had a vague im- pression that the first man, who had wished to keep the coupls with the key of his compartment, desired the op- posite with Noel. Instead of protesting as the train carried them away from our sight 1 saw that he was trying to pull Noel in. And when I had time to think of 1t 1 wondered why. though a gla had littered the seats “Told by Noel Brent CHAPTER IIL THE MAN WHO WAS AFRAID . It's a queer feeling for a man to be taken suddenly by the nape of the neck, 0 to speak, and plunged from paradise to perdition. But that was what seemed to have happened to me when I sprang into the train at Charing Cross as it be- gan to move out of the station. It was & narrow shave that I got in at all, for in my haste I hadn’t noticed that the carriage I almed for was reserved. Had it not been for two men who were bent upon the same object, and had a railway key of their own wherewith to ac- complish it, I should have faifled, and might have been by that time too late to open another door and dart in some- where else. Still, my good luck was but indirectly due to the men with the key, for though they had ruthlessly broken in upon the privacy of the rightful owner, they suddenly grew loud In their asser- tions that the carriage was reserved. They even tried to bar my way in, when, curiously enough, the firm man, who had done his best to keep them out, was sud- denly struck with a mysterious desire to have me for a.companion. Somehow, I scarcely know how, 1 got in and slammed the door. The seats were strewn with the rightful occupant’s luggage, rugs in a shawl- strap, two handbags, an overcoat, a case of golf sticks, umbrellas, cane, and what not. It looked as if he had spread these things cunningly about on purpose to prevent intending passengers from re- garding his reserved compartment with active envy; but {f this had been his ob- Ject it had ignominiously failed. It even appeared as if he repented his selfishness, for with a certain apologetic nervousness he began to pile his two bags and overcoat one on of another. “Won't you sit here, sir?” he said, ad- dresing me, baving made room on the seat next his own corner. T hadn’t had time to notice what he or the other two were like until now; but as the man gazed up almost imploringly into my face, it struck me that his appear- ance was somewhat pecullar. In the first place, he did not look exact- 1y the sort of man you would expect to e traveling first-class and tipping guarde to reserve a compartment. Nor was he the kind of individual who usual- 1y goes about with golf stic! He gave me the impression somehow of being “got up” in a painstaking way for a special part. His clothes were good and Very new probably ready-made. The man wi all and thin and weedy, with little bunaing, pink-rimmed, white- lashed eves, set close to the sharply pointed nose. He had a forehead which suggested shrewdness; freckles on a pallid tkin; a mean mouth with irritable cor- ners, and a weak chin. He might have been of any age between 28 and 33 or 34, and, despite his would-be “smart” bet- up, looked rather like an ex-groom mas- querading (in the phraseology which would appeal to him) as a “swell.” All these details I took in at a glance, for the study of my fellow man has al- ways interested me. Not that this per- sonality was in itself an interesting one, but it was puzzling, and I was at a loss to understand why the fellow had be: anxious to eject the men with the key, vet was ready to extend a welcoms to me. He was so desirous that I, and not one of the other two, s d sit beside him, that 1 remembered in a flash the all- fmportant document which I had placed in a large letter ca: d slipped into an inner breast pocket. I wourd not feel for t ostentatiously, but I managed while putting own bag and umbrella into the rack to ascertain that it wase still there. far as the busi which took me to France went, all was well; but every- g else was mightily wrong. rst, when I had presented mysel? stoke’s this morning, to 1 k the “favor” it had been inttmated I might be able to do for him and for Lord Reckworth, I forgot in the interest of e affair's development t ave been readler to face close quarters than to to Jullette de Nevers. ad dwelt upon was that it would be a very good thing for my hopes of Margot if I could put her father under obligation. She is so beautiful after. that I courd not blame dn’t consider me a fit daughter. To be sure, I n to him yet. To do so promise from Margot 1d have been premature; but a father bave been blind not to see that T was head over ears in love, and as Gordon ceive a commission from him app to mean more than met th v 1 tered myself that it was eq “This is a test 3 pur- ng you. Go in and win if you Then, when the Forelgn Secretary had sprung it upon me that I was to carry a per of importz mation concerning h to me that at the t about that part of m Margot t before ame had occurr Jliette was a pe al sps going to be married! Jullette had some- how, in a way apparently sensat H brought off a great coup by which the British Government had profited. Juliette had an enemy as well as a lover; she was in desperate danger, and it was for > 1 t once, :sed the issues which otherwise must have been first with me. The trust placed in me bv two such men as Bir Gordon Revelstoke and Lord Reckworth flattered my ambition and fired me to do my best. 1t was only when Margot, in great beauty confronted me unexpacteuly at the rall- way station that I realized in what a po- sition T had placed myself by undertaking to carry a message to Juliette de Nevers and keep the real motive of my visit to her absolutely secret. J should not have been a man if T had broken my word for the sake of justify- ing myself in a woman’s dear ey there was no question of such a cou my mind. T hope, for more than a moment. But recalling all that had passed between night, and the look in uer face ng, my heart was cold witn almost in the hour of gaining her, as I had thought—I should lose her forever. fall was from a giddy height, and t stunned by it as I leaned back in my seat and folded my arms. For Eng- land's sake, for Juliette’s sake, I hoped to car: out my mission and bring it to a successful {ssue for every one concerned, but all spice of joy was gone from the ad- venture for me. I did not even speculate any more upon the nature of the docu- ment in my letter case. I had wondered at first what it could be and what was the *“sensational story” connected witk the way it had come into Juliette de Nevers' possessio but now I did not care. So completely absorbed in my own gloomy reflections was I that the voice of one of my fellow travelers, speaking loud- 1y and distinctly across the compartment, caused me to look up with a slight start. One of the two men who had let them- gelves in with the rallway key had ad- dressed me. “Sorry to have been dis- agreeable just now,” sald he. “Hardly stopped to think what I was doing when 1 tried to keep you out, you know—acted on impulse. Can’t bear trayeling in a crowded carriage.” T looked across at him and his friend. They were vulgar fellows, with no more pretension toward being gentlemen than the weasel-faced individual who had re- served the carriage, but they were big and of a manlier type than he. T noticed that they were well dressed, though flash- fly; and I felt the same impression of artificlality that I had in studying the first, different as they were. The one who had spoken to me was very dark and Jewish-looking; the other was puffy of face and slightly marked with smallpox. “No apology Is necessary,” I replied to the overture, rather grimly. “That’s all right, then,” said the dark man. Whereupon he turned to his com- panion, and the two began talking togeth- er in tones so low that not a word reached my side of the compartment. At this moment & movement on the seat near me attracted my attention to the weasel-faced fellow. He was sickly white, his mouth and nostrils were twitching and he mopped his forehead with a hand- kerchief. The traveling cap which he wore was pushed far back on his head, and I saw that his whitey-brown hair was damp. Altogether he showed every symptom of 2 man well-nigh at the point of fainting with iliness or terror, yet struggling with all the force of a some- what weak nature to keep up an appear- ance of composure. é This seemed to me very strange. Though my own affairs were engrossing enough, heaven knows, the condition of the weasel-faced man prickéd my curios- ity. If we had been on shipboard I should simply have supposed that he was seasick and ashamed of it. Now, however, I could not accounf for his quivering and yellowish pallor in that way. But if he were collapsing through fear, what was in which her THE SUNDAY there to be afraid of? There must have been an unpleasant kind of magnetism in the creature's suppressed misery, or it be- gan to get upon my nerves. The abject fellow fascinated me. I could not look away from him for long. I found myself always wanting to know what stage he had reached. Superficially, he improved. He con- trolled the queer, nervous flickering of nostrils and lips, and even pretended to read a newspaper, which I remembered now he had been holding up in front of his face, as if absorbed in its contents, just before the other men opened the door with their key and burst in upon him. To them on the opposite side of the carrlage it might appear that he was actually reading his paper, though he was a long time turning it over. But I sat beside him, and my glances from time to time showed me that he was simply staring ahead in an introspective way, which must have made the printed pages ap- pear absolutely blank. He had the air of one waiting, under great strain, for some- thing tp happen. I began to think it not unlikely that he was mad. His penchant for me, In contrast with his distaste for the others, had seemed like it from the first. Everything that they did appeared to annoy him; but especially their whisper- ing together. That seemed to go through him like & knife. He would peer furtively round the edge of his newspaper, just the quick glance which apparently he could not resist; and again he would start and shiver. His uncanny interest in the pair was not, so far as I could see, recipro- cated. After the first the men hardly 1 ed at the meager figure half hidden behind the wings of the newspaper; but I often caught the e of one or the other intently, reflectively fixed on me. If they had got into the compartment after, instead of before, me, I should have been inclined to take them for a couple of the sples of whom Lord Reckworth had warned me; but as it was, there seemed to be no reason for fancying anything of the sort. The train journey which had had such an odd beginning proved absolutely un- eventful; but when we reached Dover and began collecting our belongings all the weasel-faced man’s nervousness returned. His trembling hands mnovered over one piece of luggage after the other, as If he were undecided how to pile them to- gether. The other two, who had only a couple of bags and a rug each, seeméd inclined to be slow about leaving the car- riage. As for me I had nothing more than I could carry in one hand, having left myself as free as possible, not wish- ing to bring my man with me. I could have been out of the train the instant §t stopped alongside the boat-landing if I had chosen, but it was not my object to be caught in a.crowd, for I had to think of gharding the precious, unknown con- tents of my letter-case, and I, too, there- fore, took my time. It was rather curious when one came to think of it—the four occupants of the compartment, with at least three differ- ent motives among thém, each one coun- “MOST AUDACIOUS BOOK OF THE YEAR CALL. I managed, nevertheless, to catch the rail and steady myself, getting rid of the flapping folds of rug which enveloped me, and setting the little man, who still clung to me as if for dear life, on his feet again. 1 didn’t let go of him, how- ever. The officer stationed at the top of the gangway was angrily crying out that it bad been a false alarm, and in the next breath fiercely demanding who had start- ed it. The frightened ones were quickly ashamed of themselves, and weasel-face began to jabber apologies; still, I didn’t loose my hold of him, but making a pre- tense of keeping him steady until he should reach the deck I hurriedly felt for my precious letter case. If it had been missing T should have known to whom to attribute the loss, but to my intense relief I could feel the un- mistakable outline of the letter case in my inner pocket. It would have been im- possible even for the most expert thief or conjuror to remove the contents without taking the letter case also, therefore I knew that the document must be safe. I had had an awful moment. fearing that the Foreign Secretary’s worst predic- tions had been verified, and I made a fool of, after all my self-confidence at setting out. The joy I experienced therefore as my fingers touched that familiar shape in my pocket was so keen as to be almost pain. I could afford to be graclous in forgiv- ing the apologetic offender: but I was very tired of hifm, and kept out of his way on deck during the crossing. Once in a while I saw him, however, as I paced up and down, and saw also the two other men who had traveled to Dover with us. They stood mostly by the rail. talking earnestly together, as they had in the train; and sometimes they threw a glance over their shoulders at the little rat of a man, and sometimes at me. At the Gare du Nord I waited until the crowd of passengers had cleared their luggage before I applied for mine, as T felt that now more than ever it behooved me to be cautious. If sples had actually been {nformed of my errand and were ly- ing in walit for me it would be easier for them to rob me in Paris than during the Journey from Londen. I gave my bag to a porter. that both my hands might be free and ready for any emergency, and it was well that T had done so: for the man with the weasel face—who seemed destined always to faill into trouble under my nose—was again close in front of me, trotting after the porter who had most of his luggage, when a tralling end of the rug he car- ried over his own arm got under his feet had tripped him up. He staggered. and would have fallen on his face, if I had not caught him by the shoulder. He grabbed the lapel of my coat as a drowning man snatches at a straw. When he was safely on his feet I tore his clinging fingers loose, and again hasti- 1y felt for the letter case, though not with the same clutching fear as before for T had nearly made up my mind that this mad hatter of a fellow was innocent of any evil intention towards me. The case was where it had been since I The Spenders BY_HARRY LEON WILSON. ‘down-to-date story—a daring study East in contrast—the West against the SUNDAY CALL, JULY 12 seling del Once, as I was with needless delibera- tion finding a place for a magazine and newspaper in.my bag, I glanced up and caught the eye of the man beside whom I had been sitting. There was either an imploring look in it or else my imagina- tion was playing a trick with me. I was inclined to fancy the latter, for why should this insignificant little stranger be saying with his bleak, agonized stare: “For mercy's sake, don't go and leave me alone with these others?” They were apparently strangers to him also; and if he had so mad a desire to escape from their society, why didn’t he mplify matters by making a bolt for it? The palr of whispering comrades stood back a little, with a polite indication thgt 1 might precede them; but I didn’t see it, and at last, just when the situation was becoming somewhat marked, they seemed to resign themselves to the inevitable, and jumping out of the train were at once lost to sight in the hurrying crowd. For an instant 1 imagined that the pallid wisp was going to address ms, but I was mistaken. The disappearance of the others was the signal he had been walting for. -He called a porter, to whomn he gave a part of his luggage, but not nearly as much as the big man could have managed, and then, without glanc- ing back/ got down from the carriage be- fore me, 1 following directly after. Throughout the train journey I had had a haunting sense of mystery connected with this fellow, as inexplicable as it was impossible to shake off; but the first gust of strong sea air blew it away, and as [ walked at his heels he was scarcely more an object of interest to me than any other unit .n the créwd. He and I were at the tall end of~the throng hastening boatward, which was exactly what I wanted. I had no reason now to apprehend danger - from - pick- pockets, too clever for even my alert sus- picion to detect. Only two or three intending passengers were behind me as I followed the littie man toward the boat, and as I stepped on the gangway and happened to glance up, I had just time to see one of our two fellow travelers standing on deck gazing down at us. Suddenly a shout was “Look out—the gangway's fall- Instantly calmness turned to confusion. Those behind me made a dash to try and get past, while the nervous wretch in front, seeming to lose all presence of mind, wheeled round to run back instead of making a leap for the deck. I was be- tween two opposing forces. The little man, in turning tail, threw up his arms with a screech of fear and somehow con- trived in his selfish awkwardness to fling his traveling rug into my face. At the same moment he fell against my chest, the small bag he carried in his left hand striking me full on the knees. My hat was knocked over my eves, and what with the unexpected weight of the little struggling, scrambling beast in front, and two or three men at my back fighting' to get past each other and me, for a second or so all but lost my bal- started, and 1 said “good-day” to weasal face as I got Into my fiacre. The last I saw of him he was almost running by the side of his porter, with our two big ;‘ravelzng companions sauntering behind nim. My instructions from the Foreign Secre- tary had been simple enough. I was to 8o to the klysee Palace Hotel, where I was unknown, as I usually stopped at the Bristol when I went to Paris, if not stay- ing with friends. I was to register my name as “Mr. James Guest, Birmingham, England,” and I was to take a bedroom and a private sitting room. This al'as, Lord Reckworth had ex- plained, would not have been necessary had he known beforehand who his mes- senger was to be. But lest any misunder- standing should arise, Mademoiselle de Nevers herself had suggested a name for the man who should return to her the all- important paper, and also the hotel at which the meeting should take place. Tt was thought best to make no change after the arrangement with me, lest for some reason Juliette should be prevented from receiving further messages. My ap- parance in the guise of Mr. James Guest was bound, therefore, to be a great sur- prise to her, but I hoped—if | had heart enough left to hope anything—that it would not be an unpleasant one. T hadn’t been in my rooms at the Elysee Palace two ?linu(es when a knock came at the door. '“A lady who wishes to see you, monsieur,” announced a servant, when I had called out: “Entrez!” “She said that you would be expecting her.” “Show the lady up at once to my sit- ting-room,” I answered. But the lady had not waited to be shown up. She had followed the servant and appeared in the doorway even as he turned away to fetch her. So "thickly veiled and prainly clad was she that few would have guessed the tall black figure to be that of the handsomest and best-dressed woman in Paris. But even had I not been expecting her, I think I should have known Jullette de Nevers® bearing and the carriage of her head if she had come upon me suddenly thus veiled and thus cloake¥, at the other end of the world. She had all an actress’ self-control in emergencies, and the slowly disappearing valet de chambre could have had no sus- piciou that I was the last man on earth whom she had thought of meeting. But as the door closed behind him she recolled slightly from me, demanding: *“What does this mean? Why are you- here un- der the name of Jamew Guest?” “Because Sir Gordon Revelstoke ad- vised Lord Reckworth that I was as well fitted to bear it as any one he could lay his hands on at the moment. I hope you don't think he was wrong?” “No, indeed, no,” she stammered. “I am glad. I would rather have it you than any one, mon ami. But it was a surprise. I didn't understand it at first. 1 thought there must be some mistake. Thank heaven that you've got through safely! I have been in agony all day. If you could know what I have suffered! You have the—the paper, of course? All has gone well?” “All has gone well,” I echoed cheer- fully. “Not so much as an adventure, though I was obliged to sacrifice an esti- mable mustache this morning, and leave Sir Gordon Revelstoke's house disguised as a footman with flour half an inch thick on my hair, for fear of spies. But I don’t think I was spotted. Anyway, here I am, and here is the cause of your anx- fet. I tapped my breast and smiled. Juliette stretched out both gloved hands. “For pity's sake, give it to me and let me go!" she exclaimed. But I was not in a mood to submit to this. I had perhaps sacrificed the happi- ness of my whole future to this myste- rious mission of hers, and I was deter- mined to have some reward for it. It vexed me that, without a word of thanks even, her one thought was to get away with the prize which was like to cost me s0 much. “You shall not go without giving me a sight of your face,” I said, half-laughing —though in truth I was in no mood for laughter, with Margot's words still ring- ing in my ears. ‘“Honor me by taking off your veil, and the contents of a certaln letter case is yours.” She hesitated for an instant, as if to re- fuse my request, thought better of it, and began hastily to unfasten her veil. Then, snathching it away, she showed me a face that many men have called the most beautiful on earth. To me it {s not half as exquisite as Margot Revelstoke's, but I confess it is more striking. Margot's is like a dewy rosebud, fresh as dawn; Juliette de Ne ers’ is like a strange white tropical lily shining in the sun of noon. Always pale, she was absolutely color- less to-night save for the red of her lips, the black brows and heavy lashes, the blue fire of her passionate eyes and tb deep copper-bronze of her hair. I ha$ told Margot the truth last night when swore that I had never been in love with Juliette de Nevers and that we had b no more than friends. But she and I had played a game of fiirtation when we had first met, and I should not have been half a man if I had not admired her splendid beauty, her talent and daring. ‘Thank you.” I sald quietly. I've deseryed that. to give you.” I thrust my hand into the pocket where the letter caze was and drew it forth. As I did so, before either she or I had seen it. the electric light, which made the little private salon brilliant, wavered blindingly for a second or two and then went out, leaving us in blank darkness save for the brief glow of quivering red wires. At the same instant we started at a sound like the stealthy turning of a door handle. “I think Now for what I have CHAPTER‘ iVA “HIDE-THE-HANDKERCHIEF.” 1 felt Juilette clutch my arm. “The treaty!” she whispered in an agonized voice. So the document in my letter case was a treaty! But there was no time to think of its nature now. The thing was to provide for its safety—if possible. I thrust the letter case into her hana, and heard a rustling of silk as, no dout she concealed it under her cloak. this up went the electric lights ag: bright as ever, and to my astonishment I saw standing in the open doorway, be- tween my bedroom’and sitting-room, a commissary ‘of; police; -with ‘a: gendarme looking over his shoulder and another in the background. The door at which '‘we had heard the first sound was that by which Juliette had entered the sajon from the corridor outSide; but T guessed -in a second that the party had divided lest’®e should seize s@ ‘chance to escape. The salon door Juliette had Joeked as she came in from the corridor, -but the ‘other, communicat- ing: with the bedroom, I had forgotten. T'threw aghasty glance at her, and see- ing that she had already found means of concealing the lettér case, I sharply de- manded of the commissary of police what the dickens he meant by walking into my room uninvited. But his‘agreeable smile was unruffled. ““Ten thousand pardons, monsieur!” he exclaimed. *I knocked and hearing no answer ventured to intrude. Important business must be my excuse. I have to request that Monsieur Brent will place in my hands the gift which he has brought from London for Mademoiselle de Nevers.” You are’ mistaken,” I sald. “T have brought no gift for Mademoiselle de Nevers.” I prevaricated with a bold face: but I fear it was also a flushed one, for the man’s knowledge of my name was omin- ous. If the Paris police had contrived al- ready to learn it, despite all our precau- tions, it was probable that they knew enough to knock-to pieces our house of cards. The fellow's very (politeness looked as if he were sure he had the game in his own hands. “Perhaps, 1 should say, rather, the article which mademoiselle lent and mon- sleur has now returned,” amended the commissary of police. “You have been strangely misin- formed,” 1 replied, throwing out my hands with a gesture expressive of injured inno- cence. “I trust that Monsieur Brent does not intend to obstruct the police In the exe- cution of their duty,” said the French- man, his smile hardening to a certain grimness. “In that case it would be my disagreeable task to order that monsieur be searched.” “If T must I must, that is all. But in a few hours’ time it would be my disagreeable task to make things lively for the person responsible.” *“Also to search mademoiselle,” said the commissary of police. ‘““Whether the thing to which I refer is at this moment still in the possession of monsieur or whether it has already been returned to mademoiselle is immaterial. The matter of importance is that it must be In my hands within twp minutes or Mademoiselle de Nevers and Monsieur Brent must con- sider themselves under arrest.” My lips were parted to speak, though 1 had no words sharp enough to cut this Gordian knot, when Juliette relieved me of the responsibility. “It is monstrous,” che ejaculated, “mon- strous. A lady comes to call upon an old friend at his hotel and because her name happens to be well known, because she 1s a servant of the public, she is to be in- sulted in this shameful, this ridiculous esplonage of the police. Oh, I shall know how to make you regret this. But to show you how baseless are the suspi- cions, which I do not pretend even to un- derstand, see for yourself that I have recelved nothing from my friend which calls for the interest of the police.” ‘White as marble, her eyes dark ,and dilated, she threw off her long; loose cloak, revealing the perfect lines of her figure, clad in a close-clinging dress of some soft black stuff. So snug was the fit that to have hidden even a small fold- ed paper the size of an ordinary letter would have been difficult. Besidesgy the bodice was buttoned from walist to throat with tiny diamond buttons, each one a separate spark of light, as the glorious bust rose and fell in angry emotion. There would not have been time, after the knock on the door which had interrupted our brief conversation, the appearance of \ hung in my mind. the intruders, for her to have undone half a dozen of these miniature, closely set but- tons and thrust inside an object to be concealed, much- less button them again. The sleeves were tight to the wrists, as if their beautiful wearer had been born in them. ere remained, therefore, only the pocket, which she hastily turned wrong side out, and the hat from which she contemptuously removed the dia- mond-headed pink, and shook as she took it off. 1 watched and marveled, for whers was the letter-case? Not thirty seconds had passed between my placing it in her hand and the appearance of the three members of the police. How, then, had she man- aged to dispose of it in such a way as to dare a search? For, as she demonstrated the fact that she had nothing to conceal, she was assuring the commissary of po- lice in scornful words that he might ar- rest her, take her to the police station and have the truth of her assertion tested more thoroughly if he chose. Never had I appreciated Julletts de Nevers’ power as an actress more than at this minute. Though the contents of the letter-case was still a mystery to me, I knew well that if it were discovered in her possession it meant something worse than death to her. Yet the only emotion which she displayed was virtuous indig- nation. She was handsomer than she had ever been In her life, and though I loved another woman, my blood was warm with admiration of her beauty and her high courage. Are you satisfled?” she demanded. 0, mademoiselle, I am not satisfled,” reluctantly answered the gallant French- man. Juliette's lips quivered. ““Then drive ma to the police station!” she exclaimed. Shg seemed even in haste to be taken at her word, for haughtily she moved toward the door. The eyes of the police officer were fixed keenly upon her. We have not searched monsieur,” said Juliette did not blanch. He had not yet found the vulnerable spot. Still his gaze was on her face. room st be searched before leave it At last he had touched the quick. I don’t know how to describe the change in her expression, for her iron self-control relaxed only for an instant, and then but slightly; vet there was a change which [ felt,"in sympathy, like an electric shock. In that instant I guessed her secret, and I was sure the commissary of police had guessed also, so far as to deduce that Mademolselle de Nevers had snatched the time to hide what he desired somewher in the salos “SBearch,” he directed the two gen- darmes. “Begin with all possible places of concealment within ten meters of the spot where mademoiselle and monsieur stood so earnestly talking together as we opened the door.” Juliette laughed; but her laugh, though musical, rang sharp in my ear. I suf- fered in my powerlessness to help, for I knew the laugh covered heart-throbs of suspense that sickened her; I knew that the carel nonchalance with which she leant her elbow on the manteipiece meant physical weakness, absolute need for sup- port. The two gendarmes moved about with noiseless obedience, their countenances grave. They did not look at Juliette, ab- sorbing themselves® entirely in the t they had been set. But their offic his gaze upon her face as if in her e had been mirrored the hour-glass where the sands of his life ran out one by on I thought of a childish game 1 had ofte played—twenty years ago, perhaps. It ‘was called ‘“Hide the Handkerchief,” and while certain of the players searched others stood by saying: Now you are warm; now you are hot; boiling hot; now you are icecold.” In remembering this suddenly we seemed to be five players. And it was Jullette de Nevers' beautiful, white, deathly smiling which pro- claimed against her will: “Now you are warm; now you are icecold. There was a table in the center of the room, two or three brightly bound illus- trated guldebooks upon it and my hat and- gloves, which I had flung down as I came in. The gendarmes picked up all these things, looked unde® them, put them down, peered under the table, lifted the silk cushions on the sofa, opened the doors of a small bric-a-brac cabinet, bowed apologies to Jullette for causing her to move from the rug on which she stood, lifted it, and also the fender, took out two logs of wood from the grate where a fire had been laid ready to light, shook the silk and lace windoy curtains, pushed the chairs_away from the po: tions they had occupied, and then co: fessed, with shrugs of the shoulders, that they were baffled. I had a curious feeling as If my heart were the pendulum of a clock which had been shaken until it was uncertain whether to go or stop. For myself, the stakes were not so passing great; but all my life I have had an uncomfortable way of involuntarily putting myself in other pedBle’s places at moments of their distress or danger. I suppose it’s an over- vivid imagination; anyhow, at such times 1 suffer all that they suffer—maybe more —and now the strain of the situation was tugging -at my nerves. Once, when the gendarmes had carried their quest into a certain quarter, Jullette’s face, though hardened into one unvarying expression— a smile which T should not soon forget— had a curious effect, as if the flesh had curdled under the skin, and at the same instant I saw in the fullness of electric light a dewy sparkle on her forehead as if diamond dust had suddenly been flung all over it. The question which had jarred the pen- dulum to indecision was whether the com- missary of police had also noted that subtle effect, and, if so, whether he had put the same interpretation upen it. I had not long to wait. The keen-eyed Frenchman gave no further directions to his subordinates, but. crossing the room, paused before the sofa. The gendarmes had been lifting the pil- lows on the sofa when the diamond dust had glittered on Mademoisells ds Nevers' forehead. When he had reached this place their superior officer turned and looked at her. She was smiling as before; but she had apparently ceased to breathe. Her breast no longer rose and fell tumul- tuously. The only movement there was the visible knocking of the heart under the close-fitting bodice. For the fraction of & second—as the man bent towards the sofa—the desperate thought of trying to overpower all three men, stunning them and giving time for Juliette to get away with the letter case, But almost as quickly as it had come, the idea was superseded by the conviction that to attempt violence would only make matters worse for this fair woman who had risked so much. 1 am something of an athlete and have always prided myself a little too much, perbaps, on feats of strength and en- durance; but it would be madness to hope that I could get the best of three armed men without at least making such a noise that a dozen servants would come to their assistance. 1 thought alse of bribery, and this idea I did not entirely dismiss. It might be worked, providing a high enough price could be raised, If the letter he “The we