until you listen," I protested. "It is
perfectly obvious that if I did, you would shut me out. But you can see
for yourself that I'm not trying to force an entrance--and I wish that
you would speak lower; if we waken anybody, there will be the mischief
to pay."

My voice, I suppose, had an impatient note that was reassuring, or
perhaps I looked encouragingly respectable, viewed at closer range.
At any rate, she spoke less angrily, though she still stood erect and
haughty.

"Well, what is it?" she asked, barring the opening with one slender arm.

"May I ask if you have had a message from me, Miss Falconer?"

"A message? Certainly not!" There was renewed suspicion in her voice.

"H'm." Then they had intercepted the man before he reached her. "I'm
going to ask you to dress as quickly and quietly as possible and come
downstairs. Don't stop in the court, and don't go near the garage, I beg
of you. Just walk on past the _salle a manger_ to the garden, and wait
for me."

I expected exclamations, questions, indignant protests, anything but the
sudden white calm that fell on her at my request.

"You mean," she whispered, "that something dreadful has happened. Is it
about the--the men who came last night?"

"Yes. But please don't worry," I urged with false heartiness. "I'll
explain when you come down." To cut the discussion short, I turned to
go.

Once her door had closed, however, I halted at the staircase, retraced
my steps, and, without hesitation, circled the gallery to the rooms of
Mr. John Van Blarcom and his friends. I had had enough of uncertainties;
henceforth I meant to deal with facts. It was barely possible that I
was unjustly anathematizing these gentlemen, that, while they were
peacefully sleeping, thieves had broken in below.

Two knocks, the first rather tentative, the second brisker, netting no
response, I deliberately tried the knob and felt the door promptly yield
to me; then, with equal deliberation, I dropped my hand into my pocket
where my revolver lay. If some one sprang at me and tried to crack my
head or stab me,--stabbing was popular hereabouts,--I was in a state of
armed preparedness. But when I stepped inside I found an empty room, a
bed in which no one had slept.

Grown brazen, I strode across to the inner door and opened it. More
emptiness greeted me; the four men had plainly taken French leave in
their gray car. It was strange that the hum of their departure had
not roused me; they mu