ve told me.

The garden was more than I could endure. I lay down early and slept
late, as soon as I awoke in the morning beginning preparation for
leaving France. Yet two days passed, for we were obliged to exchange our
worn post-carriage for another after waiting for repairs. The old valet
packed my belongings; though I wondered what I was going to do with them
in America. The outfit of a young man of fashion overdressed a refugee
of diminished fortune.

For no sooner was I on the street than a sense of being unmistakably
watched grew upon me. I scarcely caught anybody in the act. A succession
of vanishing people passed me from one to another. A working man in his
blouse eyed me; and disappeared. In the afternoon it was a soldier who
turned up near my elbow, and in the evening he was succeeded by an
equally interested old woman. I might not have remembered these people
with distrust if Skenedonk had not told me he was trailed by changing
figures, and he thought it was time to get behind trees.

Bellenger might have returned to Paris, and set Napoleon's spies on the
least befriended Bourbon of all; or the police upon a man escaped from
Ste. Pelagie after choking a sacristan.

The Indian and I were not skilled in disguises as our watchers were. Our
safety lay in getting out of Paris. Skenedonk undertook to stow our
belongings in the post-chaise at the last minute. I went to De
Chaumont's hotel to bring the money from Doctor Chantry and to take
leave without appearing to do so.

Mademoiselle de Chaumont seized me as I entered. Her carriage stood in
the court. Miss Chantry was waiting in it while Annabel's maid fastened
her glove.

"O Lazarre!" the poppet cried, her heartiness going through me like
wine. "Are you back? And how you are changed! They must have abused you
in Russia. We heard you went to Russia. But since dear Marquis du Plessy
died we never hear the truth about anything."

I acknowledged that I had been to Russia.

"Why did you go there? Tell your dearest Annabel. She won't tell."

"To see a lady."

Annabel shook her fretwork of misty hair.

"That's treason to me. Is she beautiful?"

"Very."

"Kind?"

"Perfectly."

"Well, you're not. By the way, why are you looking so wan if she is
beautiful and kind?"

"I didn't say she was beautiful and kind for me, did I?"

"No, of course not. She has jilted you, the wretch. Your dearest Annabel
will console you, Lazarre!" She clasped my arm with bot