thumped to the tune of a popular
polka.

"But what have I go to do?" he asked.

"To watch a man who will go out by the same steamer as you," she
answered. "Write to London, tell me what he does, how he spends his
time, whether he is ill or well. You must stay at the same hotel in New
York, and try and find out what his business is there. Remember, we want
to know, my mistress and I, everything that he does."

"Who is he?" he asked. "A friend of your mistress?"

"No!" she answered shortly, "an enemy. A cruel enemy--the cruelest enemy
a woman could have!"

The subdued passion of her tone thrilled him. He felt himself
bewildered--in touch with strange things. She leaned a little closer
towards him, and that mysterious perfume, which was one of her many
fascinations, dazed him with its sweetness.

"If you could send home word," she whispered, "that he was ill, that
anything had happened to him, that he was not likely to return--our
fortunes would be made--yours and mine."

"Stop!" he muttered. "You--phew! It's hot here!"

He wiped the perspiration recklessly from his forehead with a red silk
handkerchief.

"What made you come to me?" he asked. "I don't even know the name of
your mistress."

"And you must not ask it," she declared quietly. "It is better for you
not to know. I came to you because you were a man, and I knew that I
could trust you."

Her flattery sank into his soul. No one else had ever called him a man.
He felt himself capable of great things. To think that, but for the
coming of this wonderful Mademoiselle Violet, he might even now have
been furnishing a small shop on the outskirts of Islington, with collars
and ties and gloves designed to attract the youth of that populous
neighborhood!

"When do I start?" he asked with a coolness which surprised himself.

She drew a heavy packet from the recesses of the muff she carried.

"All the particulars are here," she said. "The name of the steamer, the
name of the man, and money. You will be told where to get more in New
York, if you need it."

He took it from her mechanically. She rose to her feet.

"You will remember," she said, looking into his eyes.

"I ain't likely to forget anything you've said tonight," he answered
honestly. "But look here! Let me take you home--just this once! Give me
something to think about."

She shook her head.

"I will give you something to hope for," she whispered. "You must not
come a yard with me. When you c