ave nothing out."

Fritz's interruptions seemed only to confuse Minna. I begged him to be
silent, and did my best to help her to find the lost thread of her story.

"Did the man ask to see the lodgings?" I said.

"No."

"Did he talk of taking the lodgings?"

"He said he wished to have the refusal of them until the evening," Minna
replied; "and then he asked if Madame Fontaine had left Frankfort. When
the landlady said No, he had another question ready directly. He wanted
to know in what part of Frankfort Madame Fontaine was now living."

"And the old fool of a landlady actually told him the address," said
Fritz, interrupting again.

"And, I am afraid, did some serious mischief by her folly," Minna added.
"I saw mamma start and turn pale. She said to the landlady, 'How long ago
did this happen?' 'About half an hour ago,' the landlady answered. 'Which
way did he turn when he left you--towards Mr. Keller's house or the other
way?' The landlady said, 'Towards Mr. Keller's house.' Without another
word, mamma took me by the arm. 'It's time we were home again,' she
said--and we went back at once to the house."

"You were too late, of course, to find the man there?"

"Yes, David--but we heard of him. Mamma asked Joseph if anyone had called
while we were out. Joseph said a stranger had called, and had inquired if
Madame Fontaine was at home. Hearing that she was out, he had said, 'I
think I had better write to her. She is here for a short time only, I
believe?' And innocent Joseph answered, 'Oh, dear no! Madame Fontaine is
Mr. Keller's new housekeeper.' 'Well?' mamma asked, 'and what did he say
when he heard that?' 'He said nothing,' Joseph answered, 'and went away
directly.'"

"Was that all that passed between your mother and Joseph?"

"All," Minna replied. "My mother wouldn't even let me speak to her. I
only tried to say a few words of sympathy--and I was told sharply to be
silent. 'Don't interrupt me,' she said, 'I want to write a letter.'"

"Did you see the letter?"

"Oh, no! But I was so anxious and uneasy that I did peep over her
shoulder while she was writing the address."

"Do you remember what it was?"

"I only saw the last word on it. The last word was 'Wurzburg.'"

"Now you know as much as we do," Fritz resumed. "How does it strike you,
David? And what do you advise?"

How could I advise? I could only draw my own conclusions privately.
Madame Fontaine's movements were watched by somebody; possibly