going
now?"

"To the British embassy."

"Well, I will go with you so far--it is in my own direction. I have to
call at the charming Italian's with my congratulations--on news I only
heard this morning."

"You mean Mademoiselle Cicogna--and the news that demands
congratulations--her approaching marriage!"

"Mon Dieu! when could you have heard of that?"

"Last night at the house of M. Duplessis."

"Parbleu! I shall scold her well for confiding to her new friend Valerie
the secret she kept from her old friends, my wife and myself."

"By the way," said Graham, with a tone of admirably-feigned
indifference, "who is the happy man? That part of the secret I did not
hear."

"Can't you guess?" "NO."

"Gustave Rameau."

"Ah!" Graham almost shrieked, so sharp and shrill was his cry. "Ah! I
ought indeed to have guessed that!"

"Madame Savarin, I fancy, helped to make up the marriage. I hope it may
turn out well; certainly it will be his salvation. May it be for her
happiness!"

"No doubt of that! Two poets-born for each other, I dare say. Adieu, my
dear Savarin! Here we are at the embassy."

CHAPTER VI.

That evening Graham found himself in the coupe of the express train to
Strasbourg. He had sent to engage the whole coupe to himself, but that
was impossible. One place was bespoken as far as C-------, after which
Graham might prosecute his journey alone on paying for the three places.

When he took his seat another man was in the further corner whom he
scarcely noticed. The train shot rapidly on for some leagues. Profound
silence in the coupe, save at moments those heavy impatient sighs that
came from the very depths of the heart, and of which he who sighs is
unconscious, burst from the Englishman's lips, and drew on him the
observant side-glance of his fellow-traveller.

At length the fellow-traveller said in very good English, though
with French accent, "Would you object, sir, to my lighting my little
carriage-lantern? I am in the habit of reading in the night train, and
the wretched lamp they give us does not permit that. But if you wish to
sleep, and my lantern would prevent you doing so, consider my request
unasked."

"You are most courteous, sir. Pray light your lantern--that will not
interfere with my sleep."

As Graham thus answered, far away from the place and the moment as his
thoughts were, it yet faintly struck him that he had heard that voice
before.

The man produced a small lantern,