nown, by terror of learning what fault had developed in the
calculations of his confreres.

Efforts to fix his mind on an evening newspaper failed miserably. And
this was not for lack of interest in the news it published to the
citizens of Lyons. For Lanyard had a copy of the same sheet, and knew
that Eve had loyally kept her promise; a brief despatch from Millau
told of the simultaneous disappearance of one Andre Duchemin and the
jewels of Madame de Montalais, and added that the police were already
active in the case.

At length, unable longer to endure the growing tension of anxiety and
keep up a pretence of eating, de Lorgnes called for his addition and
fled the restaurant. Lanyard finished his own meal in haste, and
arrived in the foyer of the hotel in time to see de Lorgnes settle his
account at the bureau and hear him instruct a porter to have his
luggage ready for the one-twelve rapide for Paris. In the meantime,
anybody who might enquire for Monsieur le Comte de Lorgnes should be
directed to seek him in the cafe.

Thither Lanyard dutifully repaired; and wasted the rest of that
evening, which he had thought would prove so amusing, watching Dupont
and company watch de Lorgnes, to whom Dupont's barely dissembled
interest plainly meant nothing at all, but whose mental anguish grew to
be all but unbearable. Nor did the quantities of veeskysoda consumed by
the unhappy nobleman help him bear it, though undoubtedly he assured
himself it did. By midnight he was more than half-fuddled and wholly in
despair. Half an hour later he finished his eighth veeskysoda and wove
an unsteady but most dignified way back to the foyer of the hotel.

Immediately Dupont and his fellow, both markedly the worse for wear,
paid and left the cafe.

Lanyard returned to his room to get a new-bought travelling bag, and
started for the train afoot, a neat brown paper parcel under one arm.
On the way he made occasion to cross the Saone by one of its dozen
bridges, and paused in the middle of the span to meditate upon the
witchery of the night. When he moved on the brown paper parcel was
bearing merrily downstream the mortal remains of Andre Duchemin, that
is to say his discarded clothing.

In the Gare de Perrache Lanyard witnessed an affecting farewell scene
between the little man and Dupont. Not much to his surprise he
discovered that the former was not travelling to Paris that night,
after all; it was on Dupont's account alone that he had