the sudden appearance of the thing, its look, so lean and
snake-like and somber-colored, and the muffled air of its occupants that
had struck me as sinister when it went flashing by? I wasn't sure, but I
had formed the impression that these men were following Miss Falconer. A
patently foolish idea! And yet, and yet--

My experiences at the St. Ives and on the _Re d'Italia_ had contributed
to my education. I could no longer deny that melodrama, however
unwelcome, did sometimes intrude itself into the most unlikely lives.
The girl was bound somewhere on a secret purpose. Could these four men
be her accomplices? Were they going too?

"_A_ Bleau!"

Those had been her words to the chauffeur; for Bleau, then, she was
bound. But where did such a place exist? I had never heard of it;
and yet I possessed, I flattered myself, through the medium of
motor-touring, a fairly comprehensive knowledge of the map of France.

The affair was becoming a veritable nightmare. It seemed incredible that
a few minutes earlier I had resolved to wash my hands of it all. If the
girl had a disloyal mission, it was my plain duty to intercept her.
I could not denounce her to the police. I didn't analyze the why and
wherefore of my inability to take this step; I simply knew and accepted
it. If I interfered with what she was doing, I must interfere quietly,
alone.

Ordinarily I have as much imagination as a turnip, but now I indulged
in a sudden and surprising flight of fancy. Might it be, I found myself
wondering, that the men in the gray care were not Miss Falconer's
accomplices, but her pursuers? In that case, high as was her courage,
keen as were her wits,--I found myself thinking of them with a sort of
pride,--she was laboring under a handicap of which she could not dream.

Again, where had that long, lean, pursuing streak sprung from? Could it
have lurked somewhere in the neighborhood, spying on the hotel that Miss
Falconer had just left, waiting for her to emerge? I was aware of my
absurdity, but I couldn't put an end to it; with each instant that went
by my uneasiness seemed to grow. So I yielded, not without qualms as
to whether the quarter would take me for a gibbering idiot. Grimly and
doggedly I stalked the length of the rue St.-Dominique, and the stately
houses on both sides seemed to scorn me, their shutters to eye me
pityingly, as I peered to right and left for the possible cache of the
car.

And within four hundred feet I found i