ost admirable! But the really vital question before us to-day is
your address in London, Mr. Fitzroy."

Marigny dwelt on the surname as if it were a succulent oyster, and, in
the undeniable surprise of the moment, Medenham was forced to believe
that "Captain" Devar, formerly of Horton's Horse, had dared all by
telling his confederate the truth, or some part of the truth. The two
men looked squarely at each other, and Marigny did not fail to
misinterpret the dubious frown on Medenham's face.

He descended a step or two, and crossed the pavement leisurely,
dropping his voice so that it might not reach the ears of a porter,
laden with the ladies' traveling boxes, who appeared in the doorway.

"Why should we quarrel?" he asked, with an engaging frankness well
calculated to reassure a startled evildoer. "In this matter I am
anxious to treat you as a gentleman. _Allons, donc!_ Hurry off
instantly, and tell Simmonds to bring the Du Vallon here. Leave me to
explain everything to Miss Vanrenen. Surely you agree that she ought
to be spared the unpleasantness of a wrangle--or, shall we say, an
exposure? You see," he continued with a trifle more animation, and
speaking in French, "the game is not worth the candle. In a few hours,
at the least, you will be in the hands of the police, whereas, by
reaching London to-night, you may be able to pacify the Earl of
Fairholme. I can help, perhaps. I will say all that is possible, and
my testimony ought to carry some weight."

Medenham was thoroughly mystified. That the Frenchman was not yet
aware of his identity was now clear enough, though, with Devar's
probable duplicity still running in his mind, he could not solve the
puzzle presented by this vaunted half-knowledge.

Again the other attributed his perplexity to anything except its real
cause.

"I am willing to befriend you," he urged emphatically. "You have acted
foolishly, but not criminally, I hope. In your anxiety to help a
colleague you forgot the fine distinction which the law draws between
_meum_ and _tuum_----"

"No," said Medenham, turning to the porter. "Put the larger box on the
carrier, and strap the other on top of it--the locks outwards. Then
you will find that they fit exactly."

"Don't be a headstrong idiot," muttered the Count, with a certain heat
of annoyance making itself felt in his patronizing tone. "Miss
Vanrenen will come out at any minute----"

Medenham glanced at the clock by the side of the speed indi