pen, she had it in her own hands
now.

Neither of us spoke nor made a sound during the instant that she clung
to me, the faint, well-remembered perfume of her hair, her dress, in my
nostrils. But as she started away, and I knew that she had the
letter-case, the knock came again. Then, before I could be sure whether
she wished for time to hide, or whether she would have me cry "come in,"
without seeming to hesitate, the door opened. For a second or two Maxine
and I, and a group of figures at the door were mere shadows in the ever
deepening pink dusk: but I could scarcely have counted ten before the
long expected light sprang up. I had turned it on in more than one
place: and a sudden, brilliant illumination showed me a tall Commissary
of Police, with two little gendarmes looking over his shoulder.

I threw a glance at Maxine, who was still veiled, and was relieved to
see that she had found some means of putting the letter-case out of
sight. Having ascertained this, I sharply enquired in French what in the
devil's name the Commissary of Police meant by walking into an
Englishman's room without being invited; and not only that, but what
under heaven he wanted anyway.

He was far more polite than I was.

"Ten thousand pardons, Monsieur," he apologised. "I knocked twice, but
hearing no answer, entered, thinking that perhaps, after all, the salon
was unoccupied. Important business must be my excuse. I have to request
that Monsieur Dundas will first place in my hands the gift he has
brought from London to Mademoiselle de Renzie."

"I have brought no gift for Mademoiselle de Renzie," I prevaricated
boldly; but the man's knowledge of my name was ominous. If the Paris
police had contrived to learn it already, as well as to find out that I
was the bearer of something for Maxine, it looked as if they knew enough
to play the game in their own way--whatever that might be.

"Perhaps I should say, the thing which Mademoiselle lent--to a friend in
England, and Monsieur has now kindly returned," amended the Commissary
of Police as politely, as patiently, as ever.

"Really, I don't know what you are talking about," I said, shrugging my
shoulders and looking bewildered--or hoping that I looked bewildered.
All the while I was wondering, desperately, if this meant ruin for
Maxine, or if she would still find some way of saving herself. But all I
could do for her at the moment was to keep calm, and tell as many lies
as necessary. I had