same who had
entertained me on board the _Lola_--the man who was said to be the
lover of the fugitive Muriel Leithcourt.

Without betraying my presence I watched them pass through the
passport-office and Custom House, and then, overhearing the address
which Martin Woodroffe gave the _isvoshtchik_, I stood aside, wet to the
skin, and saw them drive away.

At eleven o'clock on the following day I found myself installed in the
Hotel de Paris, a comfortable hostelry in the Little Morskaya, having
succeeded in evading the vigilance of the spy who had so cleverly
followed me from Abo, and in getting my suit-case round from the Hotel
Europe.

I was beneath the same roof as Elma, although she was in ignorance of my
presence. Anxious to communicate with her without Woodroffe's knowledge,
I was now awaiting my opportunity. He had, it appeared, taken for her a
pleasant front room with sitting-room adjoining on the first floor,
while he himself occupied a room on the third floor. The apartments he
had engaged for her were the most expensive in the hotel, and as far as
I could gather from the French waiter whom I judiciously tipped, he
appeared to treat her with every consideration and kindness.

"Ah, poor young lady!" the man exclaimed as he stood in my room
answering my questions, "What an affliction! She writes down all her
orders--for she can utter no word."

"Has the Englishman received any visitors?" I asked.

"One man--a Russian--an official of police, I think."

"If he receives anyone else, let me know," I said. "And I want you to
give Mademoiselle a letter from me in secret."

"Bien, m'sieur."

I turned to the little writing-table and scribbled a few hasty lines to
my love, announcing my presence, and asking her to grant me an interview
in secret as soon as Woodroffe was absent. I also warned her of the
search for her instigated by the Baron, and urged her to send me a line
in reply.

The note was delivered into her hand, but although I waited in suspense
nearly all day she sent no reply. While Woodroffe was in the hotel I
dared not show myself lest he should recognize me, therefore I was
compelled to sham indisposition and to eat my meals alone in my room.

Both the means by which she had met Martin Woodroffe and the motive were
equally an enigma. By that letter she had written to her schoolfellow it
was apparent that she had some secret of his, for had she not wished to
send him a message of reassurance that