sed the door, and stood facing him, interrogatively.

"What I am going to ask you, Miss Allen, is something unusual. But this
past week has shown me that you are an unusual woman." He hesitated, in
doubt as to how to proceed.

"In America," she said, laughing a little, to widen his avenue of
approach, "you would call me emancipated, wouldn't you?"

He bowed and laughed a little in return.

"But let me explain," he went on. "I am in what you might call a
dilemma. For some reason or other certain persons here are watching and
following me, night and day. In America--which, thank God, is a land of
law and order--this sort of thing wouldn't disturb me. But here"--he
gave a little shrug--"well, you know what they say about Italy!"

"Then I wasn't mistaken!" she cried, with a well-rung note of alarm.

He looked at her, narrowly.

"Ah, I suspected you'd have an inkling! But what I have here makes the
case exceptional--and, perhaps, a little dangerous!"

He drew from his pocket a yellow-tinted manila envelope, of "legal" size.
Frank's quick glance told her that it was by no means empty.

"It may sound theatrical, and you may laugh at me, but will you take
possession of these papers for me, for a few days? No, let me explain
first. They are important, I confess, for, although valueless
commercially, they contain personal and private letters that are worth a
good deal to me!"

"But this means a great responsibility," demurred Frank.

"Yes; but no danger--at least to you, since you are in no way under
suspicion. You said that in five days you would probably be in Naples.
Supposing that I arrange to meet you at, say, the Hotel de Londres there,
and then repay you for your trouble."

"But it's so unusual; so almost absurd," still demurred the acting woman.
The eavesdropper from the closet felt that it was an instance of diamond
cutting diamond. How hard and polished and finished, he thought, actor
and actress confronted each other.

"Will you take the risk?" the man was asking.

She looked from him to the packet and then back to him again.

"Yes, if you insist--if it is really helping you out!" she replied, with
still simulated bewilderment.

He thanked her with something more than his professional, placid
crispness, and put the packet in her outstretched hand.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, everything."

"In Naples, in five days?"

"Yes; the Hotel de Londres. And now I must leave you."

He startled her