fer
to watch and to give information to the bureaux of police of other
countries, so that arrests invariably take place beyond the frontiers of
the Principality of Monaco.

It was not long before Doctor Leneveu, a short, stout, bald-headed
little man, well known to habitues of the Rooms, among whom he had a
large practice, entered the house of Mademoiselle and was greeted by
Hugh. The latter briefly explained the tragic circumstances, whereupon
the little doctor at once became fussy and excited.

Having ordered everyone out of the room except Henfrey, he bent and made
an examination of the prostrate woman.

"Ah! m'sieur," he said, "the unfortunate lady has certainly been shot at
close quarters. The wound is, I tell you at once, extremely dangerous,"
he added, after a searching investigation. "But she is still alive," he
declared. "Yes--she is still breathing."

"Still alive!" gasped Henfrey. "That's excellent! I--I feared that she
was dead!"

"No. She still breathes," the doctor replied. "But, tell me exactly what
has occurred. First, however, we will get them to remove her upstairs.
I will telephone to my colleague Duponteil, and we will endeavour to
extract the bullet."

"But will she recover, doctor?" asked Hugh eagerly in French. "What do
you think?"

The little man became serious and shook his head gravely.

"Ah! m'sieur, that I cannot say," was his reply. "She is in a very grave
state--very! And the brain may be affected."

Hugh held his breath. _Surely Yvonne Ferad was not to die with the
secret upon her lips!_

At the doctor's orders the servants were about to remove their mistress
to her room when two well-dressed men of official aspect entered. They
were officers of the Bureau of Police.

"Stop!" cried the elder, who was the one in authority, a tall,
lantern-jawed man with a dark brown beard and yellow teeth. "Do not
touch that lady! What has happened here?"

Hugh came forward, and in his best French explained the circumstances
of the tragedy--how Mademoiselle had been shot in his presence by an
unknown hand.

"The assassin, whoever he was, stood out yonder--upon the veranda--but
I never saw him," he added. "It was all over in a second--and he has
escaped!"

"And pray who are you?" demanded the police officer bluntly. "Please
explain."

Hugh was rather nonplussed. The question required explanation, no doubt.
It would, he saw, appear very curious that he should visit Mademoiselle
of Monte