rway.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "Meester Biddulph!" and he bowed politely over my
hand.

Then, turning to Sylvia, who stood pale and rigid, he put forth his
hand, and also bowed low over hers, saying in English: "My
respects--and heartiest congratulations to madame."

His quick eyes wandered around the room, then he added--

"Meester Pennington is here; where is he? I am here to speak with
him."

"Pennington was here," I replied, "but he has gone."

"Then he only went out this moment! I must see him. He is in the
hotel!" my visitor exclaimed quickly.

"I suppose he is," I replied rather faintly; "we had better ask the
waiter. He is not stopping here. He merely came to-night to dine with
us."

"Of course," said Delanne. "He arrived by the 2.37 train from
Bruxelles, went to the Hotel Dominici, near the Place Vendome, sent
you a _petit-bleu_, and arrived here at 6.30. I am here because I wish
to see him most particularly. I was in Orleans when the news of my
friend's arrival in Paris was telephoned to me--I have only just
arrived."

I opened the door leading to my bedroom, and called my father-in-law,
but there was no response. In an instant Delanne dashed past me, and
in a few seconds had searched the suite.

"Ah, of course!" he cried, noticing that the door of my wife's room
led back to the main corridor; "my friend has avoided me. He has
passed out by this way. Still, he must be in the hotel."

He hurried back to the salon, and, opening the shutters, took off his
hat.

Was it some signal to the watchers outside? Ere I could reach his
side, however, he had replaced his hat, and was re-entering the room.

"Phew! this place is stifling hot, my dear friend," he said. "I wonder
you do not have the windows open for a little!"

Sylvia had stood by in silence. I saw by her face that the Frenchman's
sudden appearance had caused her the greatest alarm and dismay. If
Delanne was her father's friend, why did the latter flee in such fear?
Why had he implored me to save him? From what?

The Frenchman seemed highly disappointed, for finding the waiter in
the corridor he asked him in French which way the Englishman had fled.

The waiter, however, declared that he had seen nobody in the corridor,
a reply which sorely puzzled Delanne.

"Where is he?" he demanded of Sylvia.

"I have no idea," was her faltering reply. "He simply went into the
next room a few moments ago."

"And slipped out in an endeavour to make his e