e that she would
remain at home this night or consent to forego the excitements of a
spectacle so wonderful. Nor in this was he mistaken, for he had been but
a very few minutes upon the balcony when he perceived Lois herself
looking up to him from the press below and plainly intimating that she
had both seen and recognized him.

CHAPTER XXI

THE BOY IN THE BLUE BLOUSE

A sharp exclamation brought the Count to Alban's side.

"Lois is down there," Alban said, "I am sure of it--she waved to me just
now. She was walking with a man in a dark blue blouse. I could not have
been mistaken."

He was quite excited that he should have discovered her thus, and
Sergius Zamoyski did not lag behind him in interest.

"Do you still see her?" he asked--"is she there now?"

"I cannot see her now--the soldiers drove the people back. Perhaps if we
went down--"

The Count laughed.

"Even I could not protect you to-night," he exclaimed dryly,
"no--whatever is to be done must be done to-morrow. But does not that
prove to you what eyes and ears these people have. Here we left London
as secretly as a man on a love affair. With the single exception of our
friend at Hampstead, not a human being should have known of our
departure or our destination. And yet we are not three hours in this
place before this girl is outside our hotel, as well aware that we have
arrived as we are ourselves. That is what baffles our police. They
cannot contend with miracles. They are only human, and I tell you that
these people are more than human."

Alban, still peering down into the press in the hope that he might see
Lois' face again, confessed that he could offer no explanation whatever.

"They told me the same thing in London," he said, "but I did not believe
them. Old Boriskoff used to boast that he knew of things which had
happened in Warsaw before the Russian Government. They seem to have
spies in every street and every house. If Lois' presence is not a
coincidence--"

"My dear fellow, are you also a believer in coincidence--the idle excuse
of men who will not reason. Forgive me, but I think very little of
coincidence. Just figure the chances against such a meeting as this.
Would it not run into millions--your first visit to Warsaw; nobody
expecting you; nobody knowing your name in the city--and here is the
girl waiting under your window before you have changed your clothes. Oh,
no, I will have nothing to do with coincidence. These people