e first. So, after a moment, I answered:

'Yes. It named the man.'

'Who? tell me!' This was not a request, it was a command; and he was
off his pillow, resting upon his elbow, and eyeing me keenly.

I got up and bent over him.

'I'll tell you fast enough,' I said grimly. 'And it's evident you are
not a dead man yet; but get back on your pillow--he's here in this
very White City, and if you want to take care of your own you'd better
not undo the doctor's good work. Lie down!'

He dropped back weakly, and the fire died out of his face; he was
deathly pale, but his white lips framed the word, 'Who?'

'Monsieur Maurice Voisin,' I said.

'The dastard!'

'Quite so,' I agreed. 'Did you know he was here?'

'Yes.' He lay silent a moment, then: 'I see! He saw it was--he----'

I held up my hand. 'If you talk any more I shall go; and I have more
to say to you. I want you to get well, and there's someone else who is
even more anxious than I am. But you have made one mistake, I think.
You think that Voisin attacked you because you were about to meet Miss
Jenrys, do you not?'

He stared, but did not answer.

'When the brunette met you in the afternoon of that day, she gave you
some reason for believing that Miss J. desired to see you, and that if
you joined them that night it would please her.'

I paused, but again he was mute.

'My friend,' I went on, 'I believe that Love, besides being himself
blind, is capable of blinding and befooling the wits of the wisest.
That brunette is an impostor. As for knowing Miss Jenrys, she does, if
following her up and down, and trying to force an acquaintance, is
knowing her. Here is the truth: That brunette, as we all call her, for
want of any other appellation, is one of a trio, or perhaps a
quartet, of adventurers, confidence men, counterfeiters, what you
will, so that it is evil. They are here for mischief, and they began
at once, through this brunette decoy, to entrap Miss Jenrys, for what
purpose I am just beginning to learn. It seems, too, that they have
designs upon you, for they decoyed you out the other night, this
brunette and one of their woman companions dressed to resemble Miss
J., and when they had you upon the bridge and you thought you were
about to meet Miss J., two men who had been lying in wait for you
behind a buttress sprang upon you, and while one thrust you over, the
other dealt you a blow which, an inch lower, would have killed you--so
the doctor has said.'