cceeded. He was
now either so far satisfied that, if I made no move against him--and
how, he might think, could I?--he, feeling himself all safe, would let
me be; or, on the other hand, he did not feel safe, and was not
satisfied, and was arranging for my being disposed of by and by. I
considered the latter frame of mind as his most probable one; I went to
work cautiously, as I say. I ascertained that Lucille had made no
mention of any obnoxious _pretendant_ at any time; I didn't expect to
find she had, her terror of the man was too intense. But this man must
have met her somewhere--where?

"When old D'Avray came home to die, his daughter was just leaving her
Paris _pensionnat_. All through his last illness he had seen no visitor
but me, and Lucille had never quitted him. Besides, I had been there all
the time. I presumed, then, that this man and she had met in Paris; and
I believe they were only likely to have met at one of the half-dozen
houses where the child would now and again be asked. I got a list of
all these. One name only struck me; it happened to be a German
name--Steinmetz. I wondered if Monsieur Steinmetz was my man. In the
mean time, who was he? I had no trouble in finding that out: Monsieur
Steinmetz was a German banker of good standing and repute, reasonably
well off, and recently left a widower. Personally? _Dame_, personally
Monsieur Steinmetz was a great man and a fat, with a big face and blond
hair, and the appearance of what he really was--a _bon vivant_ and a
_bon enfant_ yet _n'avait jamais fait de mal a personne--allez!_--All,
yes; in effect, Madame had died about a year ago, and Monsieur had been
inconsolable for a long time. He had changed his residence now, and
inhabited a house in one of the new streets off the Champs Elysees.

"From another source I discovered that in the lifetime of Madame
Steinmetz Lucille was frequently at the house. She had ceased to come
there about the date of the commencement of Madame's sudden illness. I
got this information by degrees, while I lay _perdu_ in an old haunt of
mine in the Pays Latin yonder; for I had always had an idea that I
should find the man I wanted in Paris. When I had got it, I thought I
should like to see Monsieur Steinmetz, the agreeable banker. One night I
strolled up as far as his new residence in the street off the Champs
Elysees. Monsieur Steinmetz lived on the first-floor. There was a
brilliant light there: Monsieur Steinmetz was enterta