?"

"Ready, mademoiselle--I mean Madame X."

"What do you intend to do, sir, in regard to the incident of the
deserted cab with the sleeping horse?" she asked.

"I have not determined. It depends on developments."

"You see, Mr. Harleston, you were not in the least surprised at my
question."

"For a moment, a mere man may have had a clever woman's intuition," he
replied.

"And, I suppose, the woman will be expected to aid developments."

"Isn't that her present intention?"

"Not at all! Her present intention is to avoid developments so far as
you are concerned, and to have matters take their intended course. It's
to that end that I have ventured to call you."

"What do you wish me to do, Madame X?"

"As if you did not know!" she mocked.

"I'm very dense at times," he assured her.

"Dense!" she laughed. "Shades of Talleyrand, hear the man! However, as
you desire to be told, I'll tell you. I wish you to forget that you saw
anything unusual on your way home this morning, and to return the
articles you took from the cab."

"To the cab?" Harleston inquired.

"No, to me."

"What were the articles?"

"A sealed envelope containing a message in cipher."

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

"Oh, you may keep the roses, Mr. Harleston, for your reward!" she
laughed.

She had not missed the handkerchief, or else she thought it of no
consequence.

"Assuming, for the moment, that I have the articles in question, how are
they to be gotten to you?"

"By the messenger, I shall send."

"Will you send yourself?"

"What is that to you, sir?" she trilled.

"Simply that I shall not even consider surrendering the articles,
assuming that I have them, to any one but you."

"You will surrender them to _me_?" she whispered.

"I won't surrender them to any one else."

"In other words, I have a chance to get them. No one else has a chance?"

"Precisely."

"Very well, I accept. Make the appointment, Mr. Harleston."

"Will five o'clock this afternoon be convenient?"

"Perfectly--if it can't be sooner," she replied, after a momentary
pause. "And the place?"

"Where you will," he answered. He wanted her to fix it so that he could
judge of her good faith.

And she understood.

"I'm not arranging to have you throttled!" she laughed. "Let us say the
corridor of the Chateau--that is safe enough, isn't it?"

"Don't you know, Madame X, that Peacock Alley is one of the most
dangerous places in town?"

"Not for