alone, he
would have rushed forth to greet her; but he had no desire at the moment
that his presence should be known to Madame Le Pontois. He was there to
watch, and to meet Enid--but alone.

So after a few moments he cautiously went forth from the cafe, and
followed the two ladies at a respectful distance, until he saw them
complete their purchases and afterwards enter the station to return home.

On his return to the hotel he made many inquiries of monsieur the
proprietor concerning the distance to Haudiomont, and learned a good deal
about the military works there which was of the greatest interest. The
hotel-keeper, a stout Alsatian, was a talkative person, and told Walter
nearly all he wished to know.

Since leaving Charing Cross five days before he had been ever active. On
his arrival in Paris he had gone to the apartment of Colonel Maynard, the
British military attache, and spent the evening with him. Then, at one
o'clock next morning, he had hurriedly taken his bag and left for Dijon,
where at noon he had been met in the Cafe de la Rotonde by a little
wizen-faced old Frenchwoman in seedy black, who had travelled for two
days and nights in order to meet him.

Together they had walked out on that unfrequented road beyond the Place
Darcy, chatting confidentially as they went, the old lady speaking
emphatically and with many gesticulations as they walked.

Truth to tell, this insignificant-looking person was a woman of many
secrets. She was a "friend" of the Surete Generale in Paris. She lived,
and lived well, in a pretty apartment in Paris upon the handsome salary
which she received regularly each quarter. But she was seldom at home.
Like Walter, her days were spent travelling hither and thither across
Europe.

It would surprise the public if it were aware of the truth--the truth of
how, in every country in Europe, there are secret female agents of
police who (for a monetary consideration, of course) keep watch in great
centres where the presence of a man would be suspected.

This secret police service is distinctly apart from the detective
service. The female police agent in all countries works independently, at
the orders of the Director of Criminal Investigation, and is known to him
and his immediate staff.

Whatever information that wrinkled-faced old Frenchwoman in shabby black
had imparted to Fetherston it was of an entirely confidential character.
It, however, caused him to leave her about three o'c