her. By the Lord, she is standing at the door! Get away with
you, don't let her see you talking with me. She must not know we are
acting in common, and I do hope she hasn't noticed. Be off, I tell
you, only let me hear of you; wire to Lucerne what you're doing.
Address telegraph-office. Send me a second message at Goeschenen. I
shall get one or both. Say where I may answer and where I can join
you."

CHAPTER VIII.

The timely appearance of my colleague, Ludovic Tiler, consoled me a
little for the loss of the lady and her lot. I had failed, myself, but
I hoped that with my lead he would get on to the scent and keep to it.
Ere long, on the first intimation from him I might come into the game
again. I should be guided by his wire if I got it.

For the moment I was most concerned to find out whether Tiler's
intervention and my short talk with him had been noticed by the other
side. If the Colonel knew that another man was on his friend's track,
he would surely have left the train at once so as to go to her
assistance. But he was still in the train, I could hear him plainly,
speaking to Jules in the next compartment. Again, as we sped on, I
reasoned favourably from their leaving me as I was, still under lock
and key. No one came near me until after we had passed Olten station,
the first stopping-place after Basle, where I could alight and retrace
my steps. By holding on to me I guessed that I was still thought to
be the chief danger, and that they had no suspicion of Tiler's
existence.

I laughed in my sleeve, but not the less did I rage and storm when
Jules l'Echelle came with the Colonel to release me.

"You shall pay for this," I cried hotly.

"As for you, l'Echelle, it shall cost you your place, and I'll take
the law of you, Colonel Annesley; I'll get damages and you shall
answer for your illegal action."

"Pfui!" retorted the Colonel. "The mischief you can do is nothing to
what you might have done. We can stand the racket. I've bested you for
the present--that's the chief thing, anyway. You can't persecute the
poor lady any more."

"Poor lady! Do you know who she is or was, anyway?"

"Of course I do," he answered bold as brass.

"Did she let on? Told you, herself? My word! She's got a nerve. I
wonder she'd own to it after all she's done."

"Silence!" he shouted, in a great taking. "If you dare to utter a
single word against that lady, I'll break every bone in your body."

"I'm saying nothing--it'