en you could all go to the
devil for anything I cared!"

"Your interest," Louis murmured, "is in the young lady, then?"

"Absolutely and entirely," I answered. "Notwithstanding what you have
told me, and what I have surmised, the fact that you stood by me in
Paris would be sufficient to make me shrug my shoulders and pass on.
I am no policeman, and I would leave the work of exposing Delora to
those whose business it is. But you see I have an idea of my own,
Louis. I believe that Miss Delora is innocent of any knowledge of
wrong-doing. That I remain here is for her sake. If I try to discover
what is going on, it is also for her sake!"

"Monsieur has sentiment," Louis remarked, showing his teeth.

"Too much by far, Louis," I answered. "Never mind, we all have our
weak spots. Some day or other somebody may even put their finger upon
yours, Louis."

He smiled.

"Why not, monsieur?" he said.

CHAPTER XXVIII

CHECK

In my rooms a surprise awaited me. Felicia was there, walking
nervously up and down my little sitting-room She stopped short as I
entered and came swiftly towards me. In the joy of seeing her so
unexpectedly I would have taken her into my arms, but she shrank back.

"Felicia!" I exclaimed. "How did you come here?"

"Madame Muller went down for lunch," Felicia answered. "I said that I
had a headache, and stole up here on the chance of seeing you."

"They are making a prisoner of you!" I exclaimed.

"It is your fault," she answered.

I looked at her in surprise. Her face was stained with tears. Her
voice shook with nervousness.

"You have been making secret inquiries about my uncle," she said. "You
have been seen talking to those who wish him ill."

"How do you know this, Felicia?" I asked calmly.

"Oh, I know!" she answered. "They have told me."

"Who?" I asked. "Who has told you?"

"Never mind," she answered, wringing her hands. "I know. It is
enough. Capitaine Rotherby, I have come to ask you something."

"Please go on," I said.

"I want you to go away. I do not wish you to interest yourself any
more in me or in any of us."

"Do you mean that, Felicia?" I asked.

"I mean it," she answered. "My uncle has a great mission to carry out
here. You are making it more difficult for him."

"Felicia," I said, "I do not trust your uncle. I do not believe in his
great mission. I think that you yourself are deceived."

She held her head up. Her eyes flashed angrily.

"As to that," sh