he unfortunate young man
could not have known until just now that Percy would come back to Paris,
but he might guess it, or wish it, or only vaguely hope for it; he
might want to send a message, he might long to communicate with his
brother-in-law, and, perhaps, feel sure that the latter would not leave
him in the lurch.

With that thought in his mind, Sir Percy was not likely to give up the
attempt to ascertain for himself whether Armand had tried to communicate
with him or not. As for spies--well, he had dodged some of them often
enough in his time--the risks that he ran to-night were no worse than
the ones to which he had so successfully run counter in the Temple
yesterday.

Still keeping up the slouchy gait peculiar to the out-at-elbows working
man of the day, hugging the houses as he walked along the streets,
Blakeney made slow progress across the city. But at last he reached the
facade of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, and turning sharply to his right he
soon came in sight of the house which he had only quitted twenty-four
hours ago.

We all know that house--all of us who are familiar with the Paris of
those terrible days. It stands quite detached--a vast quadrangle,
facing the Quai de l'Ecole and the river, backing on the Rue St.
Germain l'Auxerrois, and shouldering the Carrefour des Trois Manes.
The porte-cochere, so-called, is but a narrow doorway, and is actually
situated in the Rue St. Germain l'Auxerrois.

Blakeney made his way cautiously right round the house; he peered up and
down the quay, and his keen eyes tried to pierce the dense gloom that
hung at the corners of the Pont Neuf immediately Opposite. Soon he
assured himself that for the present, at any rate, the house was not
being watched.

Armand presumably had not yet left a message for him here; but he might
do so at any time now that he knew that his chief was in Paris and on
the look-out for him.

Blakeney made up his mind to keep this house in sight. This art of
watching he had acquired to a masterly extent, and could have taught
Heron's watch-dogs a remarkable lesson in it. At night, of course, it
was a comparatively easy task. There were a good many unlighted doorways
along the quay, whilst a street lamp was fixed on a bracket in the wall
of the very house which he kept in observation.

Finding temporary shelter under various doorways, or against the dank
walls of the houses, Blakeney set himself resolutely to a few hours'
weary waiting. A t