watched until I became half
frozen in the drizzling rain, all was in vain. So I took a cab and drove
to Bruton Street.

That same night, when I got to my rooms, I wrote a line to the address
that Julie had given me, asking whether she would make an appointment to
meet me, as I wished to give her some very important information
concerning herself, and to this, on the following day, I received a
reply asking me to call at the house in Burton Crescent that evening at
nine o'clock.

Naturally I went. My surmise was correct that the house watched by the
stranger was her abode. The fellow was keeping observation upon it with
some evil intent.

The man-servant, on admitting me, showed me into a well-furnished
drawing-room on the first floor, where sat my pretty travelling
companion ready to receive me.

In French she greeted me very warmly, bade me be seated, and after some
preliminaries inquired the nature of the information which I wished to
impart to her.

Very briefly I told her of the shabby watcher, whereupon she sprang to
her feet with a cry of mingled terror and surprise.

"Describe him--quickly!" she urged in breathless agitation.

I did so, and she sat back again in her chair, staring straight before
her.

"Ah!" she gasped, her countenance pale as death. "Then they mean
revenge, after all. Very well! Now that I am forewarned I shall know how
to act."

She rose, and pacing the room in agitation pushed back the dark hair
from her brow. Then her hands clenched themselves, and her teeth were
set, for she was desperate.

The shabby man was an emissary of her enemies. She told me as much. Yet
in all she said was mystery. At one moment I was convinced that she had
told the truth when she said she was a governess, and at the next I
suspected her of trying to deceive.

Presently, after she had handed me a cigarette, the servant tapped the
door, and a well-dressed man entered--the same man I had seen leave the
house two nights previously.

"May I introduce you?" mademoiselle asked. "M'sieur Jacox--M'sieur le
Baron de Moret."

"Charmed to make your acquaintance, sir," the Baron said, grasping my
hand. "Mademoiselle here has already spoken of you."

"The satisfaction is mutual, I assure you, Baron," was my reply, and
then we reseated ourselves and began to chat.

Suddenly mademoiselle made some remark in a language--some Slav
language--which I did not understand. The effect it had upon the
newcomer was almo