nothing, and seemed highly annoyed that such an incident
should occur in their quiet and highly aristocratic house.

Next day Sylvia waited for news of her father, but none came.

Delanne called about eleven o'clock in the morning, and had a brief
interview with her in private. What passed between them I know not,
save that the man, whose real name was Guertin, met me rather coldly
and afterwards bade me adieu.

I hated the fellow. He was always extremely polite, always just a
little sarcastic, and yet, was he not the associate of the man
Reckitt?

I wished to leave Paris and return to London, but Sylvia appeared a
little anxious to remain. She seemed to expect some secret
communication from her father.

"Thank Heaven!" she said, on the day following Delanne's call, "father
has escaped them. That was surely a daring dash he made. He knew that
they intended to kill him."

"But I don't understand," I said. "Do you mean they would kill him
openly?"

"Of course. They have no fear. Their only fear is while he remains
alive."

"But the law would punish them."

"No, it would not," she responded, shaking her head gravely. "They
would contrive an 'accident.'"

"Well," I said, "he has evaded them, and we must be thankful for that.
Do you expect to hear from him?"

"Yes," she replied, "I shall probably receive a message to-night. That
is why I wish to remain, Owen. I wonder," she added rather
hesitatingly, "I wonder whether you would consider it very strange of
me if I asked you to let me go out to-night at ten o'clock alone?"

"Well, I rather fear your going out alone and unprotected at that
hour, darling," I responded.

"Ah! have no fear whatever for me. I shall be safe enough. They will
not attempt anything just now. I am quite confident of that. I--I want
to go forth alone, for an hour or so."

"Oh, well, if it is your distinct wish, how can I refuse, dear?"

"Ah!" she cried, putting her arm fondly about my neck, "I knew you
would not refuse me. I shall go out just before ten, and I will be
back long before midnight. You will excuse my absence, won't you?"

"Certainly," I said. And thus it was arranged.

Her request, I admit, puzzled me greatly, and also caused me
considerable fear. My past experience had aroused within me a constant
phantom of suspicion.

We lunched at the Ritz, and in the afternoon took a taxi into the
Bois, where we spent an hour upon a seat in one of the by-paths of
that beautiful