ey. It is strange--most strange."

"Well, comrade," replied Hyde, laughing a little uneasily, "you ought
to know me again."

"Lose no time, friend, in getting what you want from the Mairie. Come:
I will go with you. Come: you may be prevented if you delay."

These words aroused Hyde's suspicions. Had Cyprienne warned the French
police to be on the look-out for him?

"But, Anatole, explain. Why do you lay such stress on this?" he asked.

"Do as I tell you--first, the papers. I will explain by-and-by."

There was no mistaking Anatole, and Hyde accordingly hastened
upstairs. Anatole indicated the door of an antechamber, which Hyde
entered alone. It was a large, bare room, with a long counter--inside
were a couple of desks, and at them sat several clerks--small people
wielding a very brief authority--who looked contemptuously at him over
their ledgers, and allowed him to stand there waiting without the
slightest acknowledgment of his existence for nearly a quarter of an
hour.

"I have come for a certificated extract from the registers of a civil
marriage contracted here on the 27th April, 184--" he said, at length,
in a loud, indignant voice.

The inquiry had the effect of an electrical shock. Two clerks at once
jumped from their stools; one went into an inner room, the other came
to the counter where Hyde stood.

"Your name?" he asked, abruptly. "Your papers, domicile, place of
birth, age. The names of the parties to the contract of marriage."

Hyde replied without hesitation, producing his passport, a new one
made out in the name of Hyde, describing his appearance, and setting
forth his condition as an officer in Her Britannic Majesty's Regiment
of Royal Picts.

While he was thus engaged, an elderly, portly personage, wearing a
tricolour sash which was just visible under his waistcoat, came out
from the inner room, and, taking up the passport, looked at it, and
then at Hyde.

"Is that your name? Yes? It is different," he went on, audibly, but to
himself, "although the description tallies. You are an English
officer, domiciled at the Hotel Imperial, Boulevard de la Madeleine. I
do not quite understand."

"Surely it is only a simple matter!" pleaded Hyde. "Monsieur, I seek a
marriage certificate."

"For what purpose?"

"As a claim for an inheritance."

"Nothing more, eh!" said the Mayor, suspiciously. "Have you any one,
any friend, who will answer for you, here?"

"No one nearer than the British Embas