he bank, and the man passing
in there glanced back as he crossed the second threshold, giving me,
however, naught but the momentary gleam of a white face. Arrived in
the large room I looked quickly around it. Two men were changing
money, a third bent over the table to sign a note. None of these could
be Charles Miste. There was another exit leading to the body of the
building.

"Has a gentleman passed through here?" I asked a clerk, whose
occupation seemed to consist in piling sovereigns one upon another.

"Yes," he said, through his counting.

"Ah!" thought I. "Now I have him like a rat in a trap."

"He cannot get through?" I said.

"Can't he--you bet," said the young man with much humour.

I hurried on, and at last found the exit to Lothbury.

"Has a gentleman just passed out this way?" I inquired of a porter,
who looked sleepy and dignified.

"Three have passed out this five minutes--old gent with a squint,
belongs to Coutts's--tall fair man--tall dark man."

"The dark one is mine," I said. "Which way?"

"Turned to the left."

I hurried on with a mental note that sleepy men may see more than they
appear to do. Standing on the crowded pavement of Lothbury, I realised
that Madame de Clericy was right, and I little better than a fool. For
it was evident that I had been tricked, and that quite easily by
Charles Miste. To seek him in the throng of the city was futile, and
an attempt predestined to failure. I went back, however, to the bank,
and handed in the numbers of the stolen notes. Here again I learnt
that to refuse payment was impossible, and that all I could hope was
that each note changed would give me a clue as to the whereabouts of
the thief. Each forward step in the matter showed me more plainly the
difficulties of the task I had undertaken, and my own incapacity for
such work. Nothing is so good for a man's vanity as contact with a
clever scoundrel.

I resolved to engage the entire services of some one who, without
being a professed thief-catcher, could at all events meet Charles
Miste on his own slippery ground. With the help of the bank manager, I
found one, named Sander, an accountant, who made an especial study of
the shadier walks of finance, and this man set to work the same
afternoon. It was his opinion that Miste had been confined in Paris by
the siege, and had only just effected his escape, probably with one of
the many permits obtained from the American Minister at this time by
person