plainly. In time of war those so engaged talk little. They have
eaten, and they have gone to their rooms, off the gallery to the
west. And the fourth of their party--he alone wears no uniform; he is
doubtless of monsieur's land--asked of me a description of my guests,
and exclaimed in great delight, saying that monsieur was his old friend,
whom he had hoped to find here and with whom he must have speech the
very moment that monsieur should return. I know no more."

It was enough.

"He's mistaken," I said shortly. For the moment I really thought that
this must be the case.

Her broad, good-natured face was all astonishment.

"But, Monsieur," she burst forth, "he even told me, this gentleman, that
such might be monsieur's reply! And in that event he commanded me to beg
monsieur to walk upstairs, since he had a thing of importance to reveal
to monsieur--one best said behind closed doors!"

I stared at her, my head humming like a top. Then, scrutinizingly,
I looked about the court. The light in Miss Falconer's room had been
extinguished. Did that have some significance? Was she lying perdue
because these people had come? In the rooms opening from the west
gallery above the street entrance I could see moving shadows. The gray
car had arrived, and it bore three officers of France for passengers.
What could this mean?

Of course, whoever had left the message had mistaken me for a
confederate. I could not know any of the new arrivals; it was equally
impossible that they could know me. None the less, with a slight,
unaccustomed thrill of excitement, I resolved to accept the invitation
as if in absolute good faith. It was a first-class chance to get inside
those rooms, to use my eyes, to sound this affair a little, to learn
whether these men were the girl's pursuers. As army officers they could
scarcely be her accomplices. Would they forestall me by arresting her,
by taking her back to Paris? It was astonishing how distasteful I found
the idea of that.

I told madame that I thought I knew, now, who the gentlemen were. I
climbed the west staircase with determination and knocked on the door of
the first room that had a light. A voice from within, vaguely familiar,
bade me enter, I did so immediately and closed the door.

Through an inner entrance I saw three men grouped about a table in
the next room, all smoking cigarettes, all clad in horizon blue. They
glanced up at me for a moment, and then, politely, they looked away