THE HOLLADAY CASE

_A TALE_

By

BURTON E. STEVENSON

AUTHOR OF "AT ODDS WITH THE REGENT, " "ASOLDIER OF VIRGINIA, " ETC. 

NEW YORKHENRY HOLT AND COMPANY1903

COPYRIGHT, 1903, BYHENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

_Published November, 1903_

THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS, RAHWAY, N. J. 

[Illustration: MR. ROYCE DELIVERS THE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS. ]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. A BOLT FROM THE BLUE, 1

 II. IN THE GRIP OF CIRCUMSTANCE, 15

 III. THE COIL TIGHTENS, 37

 IV. I HAVE AN INSPIRATION, 56

 V. I DINE WITH A FASCINATING STRANGER, 70

 VI. GODFREY'S PANEGYRIC, 90

 VII. MISS HOLLADAY BECOMES CAPRICIOUS, 101

 VIII. THE MYSTERIOUS MAID, 114

 IX. I MEET MONSIEUR MARTIGNY, 131

 X. AN ASTONISHING DISAPPEARANCE, 146

 XI. I UNMASK MY ENEMY, 165

 XII. AT THE CAFÉ JOURDAIN, 183

 XIII. EN VOYAGE, 197

 XIV. I PROVE A BAD SENTINEL, 213

 XV. TWO HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE, 229

 XVI. I BEARD THE LION, 247

 XVII. ETRETAT, 270

XVIII. THE VEIL IS LIFTED, 280

 XIX. THE END OF THE STORY, 293

THE HOLLADAY CASE

CHAPTER I

A Bolt from the Blue

The atmosphere of the office that morning was a shade less genial thanusual. We had all of us fought our way downtown through such a stormof wind, snow, slush, and sleet as is to be found nowhere save inmid-March New York, and our tempers had suffered accordingly. I hadfound a cab unobtainable, and there was, of course, the inevitable jamon the Elevated, with the trains many minutes behind the schedule. Iwas some half-hour late, in consequence, and when I entered the inneroffice, I was surprised to find Mr. Graham, our senior, already at hisdesk. He nodded good-morning a little curtly. 

"I wish you'd look over these papers in the Hurd case, Lester, " hesaid, and pushed them toward me. 

I took them and sat down; and just then the outer door slammed with aviolence extremely unusual. 

I had never seen Mr. Royce, our junior, so deeply shaken, so visiblydistracted, as he was when he burst in upon us a moment later, anewspaper in his hand. Mr. Graham, startled by the noise of hisentrance, wheeled around from his desk and stared at him inastonishment. 

"Why, upon my word, John, " he began, "you look all done up. What's thematter?"

"Matter enough, sir!" and Mr. Royce spread out the paper on the deskbefore him. "You haven't seen the morning papers, of course; well, look at that!" and he indicated with a trembling finger the articlewhich occupied the first column of the first page--the place ofhonor. 

I saw our senior's face change as he read the headlines, and he seemedpositively horror-stricken as he ran rapidly through the story whichfollowed. 

"Why, this is the most remarkable thing I ever read!" he burst out atlast. 

"Remarkable!" cried the other. "Why, it's a damnable outrage, sir! Theidea that a gentle, cultured girl like Frances Holladay woulddeliberately murder her own father--strike him down in cold blood--istoo monstrous, too absolutely preposterous, too--too----" and hestopped, fairly choked by his emotion. 

The words brought me upright in my chair. Frances Holladay accusedof--well!--no wonder our junior was upset!

But Mr. Graham was reading through the article again more carefully, and while he nodded sympathetically to show that he fully assented tothe other's words, a straight, deep line of perplexity, which I hadcome to recognize, formed between his eyebrows. 

"Plainly, " he said at last, "the whole case hinges on the evidence ofthis man Rogers--Holladay's confidential clerk--and from what I knowof Rogers, I should say that he'd be the last man in the world to makea willful misstatement. He says that Miss Holladay entered herfather's office late yesterday afternoon, stayed there ten minutes, and then came out hurriedly. A few minutes later Rogers went into theoffice and found his employer dead. That's the whole case, but it'llbe a hard one to break. "

"Well, it must be broken!" retorted the other, pulling himselftogether with a supreme effort. "Of course, I'll take the case. "

"Of course!"

"Miss Holladay probably sent for me last night, but I was out atBabylon, you know, looking up that witness in the Hurd affair. He'llbe all right, and his evidence will give us the case. Our answer inthe Brown injunction can wait till to-morrow. That's all, I think. "

The chief nodded. 

"Yes--I see the inquest is to begin at ten o'clock. You haven't muchtime. "

"No--I'd like to have a good man with me, " and he glanced in mydirection. "Can you spare me Lester?"

My heart gave a jump. It was just the question I was hoping he wouldask. 

"Why, yes, of course, " answered the chief readily. "In a case likethis, certainly. Let me hear from you in the course of the day. "

Mr. Royce nodded as he started for the door. 

"I will; we'll find some flaw in that fellow's story, depend upon it. Come on, Lester. "

I snatched up pen and paper and followed him to the elevator. In amoment we were in the street; there were cabs in plenty now, disgorging their loads and starting back uptown again; we hailed one, and in another moment were rattling along toward our destination withsuch speed as the storm permitted. There were many questions surgingthrough my brain to which I should have welcomed an answer. The stormhad cut off my paper that morning, and I regretted now that I had notmade a more determined effort to get another. A glance at my companionshowed me the folly of attempting to secure any information from his, so I contented myself with reviewing what I already knew of thehistory of the principals. 

I knew Hiram W. Holladay, the murdered man, quite well; not only asevery New Yorker knew that multi-millionaire as one of the mostsuccessful operators in Wall Street, but personally as well, since hehad been a client of Graham & Royce for twenty years and more. He wasat that time well on toward seventy years of age, I should say, thoughhe carried his years remarkably well; his wife had been long dead, and he had only one child, his daughter, Frances, who must have beenabout twenty-five. She had been born abroad, and had spent the firstyears of her life there with her mother, who had lingered on theRiviera and among the hills of Italy and Switzerland in the hope ofregaining a health, which had been failing, so I understood, eversince her daughter's birth. She had come home at last, bringing theblack-eyed child with her, and within the year was dead. 

Holladay's affections from that moment seemed to grow and center abouthis daughter, who developed into a tall and beautiful girl--toobeautiful, as was soon apparent, for our junior partner's peace ofmind. He had met her first in a business way, and afterwards socially, and all of us who had eyes could see how he was eating his heart outat the knowledge that she was far beyond his reach; for it was evidentthat her father deemed her worthy of a brilliant marriage--as, indeed, she was. I sometimes thought that she held herself at a like value, for though there was about her a constant crowd of suitors, none ofthem, seemingly, could win an atom of encouragement. She was waiting, I told myself, waiting; and I had even pictured to myself the grimirony of a situation in which our junior might be called upon toarrange her marriage settlements. 

The cab stopped with a jolt, and I looked up to see that we hadreached the Criminal Courts building. Mr. Royce sprang out, paid thedriver, and ran up the steps to the door, I after him. He turned downthe corridor to the right, and entered the room at the end of it, which I recognized as the office of Coroner Goldberg. A considerablecrowd had already collected there. 

"Has the coroner arrived yet?" my companion asked one of the clerks. 

"Yes, sir; he's in his private office. "

"Will you take him this card and say that I'd like to see him at once, if possible?"

The clerk hurried away with the card. He was back again in a moment. 

"This way, sir, " he called. 

We followed him across the room and through a door at the fartherside. 

"Ah, Mr. Royce, glad to see you, " cried the coroner, as we entered. "We tried to find you last night, but learned that you were out oftown, and I was just calling up your office again. "

"Miss Holladay asked for me, then?"

"Yes, at once. When we found we couldn't get you, we suggested yoursenior, but she said she'd wait till you returned. "

I could see our junior's face crimson with pleasure. 

"You didn't think it necessary to confine her, I trust?" he asked. 

"Oh, no; she wasn't disturbed. She spent the night at home--undersurveillance. "

"That was right. Of course, it's simply absurd to suspect her. "

Goldberg looked at him curiously. 

"I don't know, Mr. Royce, " he said slowly. "If the evidence turns outas I think it will, I shall have to hold her--the district attorneyexpects it. "

Mr. Royce's hands were clutching a chair-back, and they trembled alittle at the coroner's words. 

"He'll be present at the examination, then?" he asked. 

"Yes, we're waiting for him. You see, it's rather an extraordinarycase. "

"Is it?"

"We think so, anyway!" said the coroner, just a trifle impatiently. 

I could see the retort which sprang to our junior's lips, but hechoked it back. There was no use offending Goldberg. 

"I should like to see Miss Holladay before the examination begins, " hesaid. "Is she present?"

"She's in the next room, yes. You shall see her, certainly, at once. Julius, take Mr. Royce to Miss Holladay, " he added to the clerk. 

I can see her yet, rising from her chair with face alight, as weentered, and I saw instantly how I had misjudged her. She came a steptoward us, holding out her hands impulsively; then, with an effort, controlled herself and clasped them before her. 

"Oh, but I'm glad to see you!" she cried in a voice so low I couldscarcely hear it. "I've wanted you so much!"

"It was my great misfortune that I could come no sooner, " said mychief, his voice trembling a little despite himself. "I--I scarcelyexpected to see you here with no one----"

"Oh, " she interrupted, "there was no one I cared to have. My friendshave been very kind--have offered to do anything--but I felt that Iwanted to be just alone and think. I should have liked to have mymaid, but----"

"She's one of the witnesses, I suppose, " explained Mr. Royce. "Well, now that I'm here, I shall stay until I've proved how utterlyridiculous this charge against you is. "

She sank back into her chair and looked up at him with dark, appealingeyes. 

"You think you can?" she asked. 

"Can! Certainly I can! Why, it's too preposterous to stand for amoment! We've only to prove an alibi--to show that you were somewhereelse, you know, at the time the crime was committed--and the wholebusiness falls to pieces in an instant. You can do that easily, can'tyou?"

The color had gone from her cheeks again, and she buried her face inher hands. 

"I don't know, " she murmured indistinctly. "I must think. Oh, don'tlet it come to that!"

I was puzzled--confounded. With her good name, her life, perhaps, inthe balance, she wanted time to think! I could see that my chief wasastonished, too. 

"I'll try to keep it from coming to that, since you wish it, " he saidslowly. "I'll not be able to call you, then, to testify in your ownbehalf--and that always hurts. But I hope the case will break down atonce--I believe it will. At any rate, don't worry. I want you to relyon me. "

She looked up at him again, smiling. 

"I shall, " she murmured softly. "I'm sure I could desire no betterchampion!"

Well, plainly, if he won this case he would win something elsebesides. I think even the policeman in the corner saw it, for heturned away with a discretion rare in policemen, and pretended tostare out of the window. 

I don't know what my chief would have said--his lips were trembling sohe could not speak for the moment--and just then there came a tap atthe door, and the coroner's clerk looked in. 

"We're ready to begin, sir, " he said. 

"Very well, " cried Mr. Royce. "I'll come at once. Good-by for themoment, Miss Holladay. I repeat, you may rely on me, " and he hastenedfrom the room as confidently as though she had girded him for thebattle. Instead, I told myself, she had bound him hand and foot beforecasting him down into the arena. 

CHAPTER II

In the Grip of Circumstance

The outer room was crowded from end to end, and the atmosphere reekedwith unpleasant dampness. Only behind the little railing before thecoroner's desk was there breathing space, and we sank into our seatsat the table there with a sigh of relief. 

One never realizes how many newspapers there are in New York until oneattends an important criminal case--that brings their people out indroves and swarms. The reporters took up most of the space in thissmall room, paper and pencils were everywhere in evidence, and in onecorner there was a man with a camera stationed, determined, I suppose, to get a photograph of our client, should she be called to the stand, since none could be obtained in any other way. 

I saw Singleton, the district attorney, come in and sit down near thecoroner, and then the jury filed in from their room and took theirseats. I examined them, man by man, with some little anxiety, but theyall seemed intelligent and fairly well-to-do. Mr. Royce was lookingover their names, and he checked them off carefully as the clerkcalled the roll. Then he handed the list up to the coroner with alittle nod. 

"Go ahead, " he said. "They're all right, I guess--they look allright. "

"It's a good jury, " replied the coroner, as he took the paper. "Betterthan usual. Are you ready, Mr. Singleton?"

"Yes, " said the district attorney. "Oh, wait a minute, " he added, andhe got up and came down to our table. "You're going to put MissHolladay on the stand, I suppose----"

"And expose her to all this?" and our junior looked around the room. "Not if I can help it!"

"I don't see how you _can_ help it. An alibi's the only thing thatcan save her from being bound over. "

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, " retorted Mr. Royce. "Ithink the case against her will soon die of inanition. "

"Oh, very well, " and Singleton abruptly went back to his desk, bitinghis mustache thoughtfully. He had made something of a reputation, since his election a year before, as a solver of abstruse criminalproblems, and had secured a conviction in two or three capital caseswhich had threatened for a time to baffle the police. He evidentlyscented something of the same kind here, or he would have entrustedthe case to one of his assistants. It might be added that, while hissuccesses had made him immensely popular with the multitude, there hadbeen, about one or two of them, a hint of unprofessional conduct, which had made his brethren of the bar look rather askance at him. 

He nodded to the coroner after a moment, the room was called toorder, and the first witness summoned. 

It was Rogers, the confidential clerk. I knew Rogers, of course, hadtalked with him often in a business way, and had the highest respectfor him. He had been with Mr. Holladay much longer than I had beenwith Graham & Royce, and had, as Mr. Graham had pointed out, anunimpeachable reputation. 

There were the usual preliminaries, name, age, residence, and so on, Coroner Goldberg asking the questions. He was a really goodcross-examiner, and soon came to the core of the matter. 

"What is the position of your desk in Mr. Holladay's office?" heasked. 

"There is an outer office for the clerks; opening from that, a smallerroom where my desk is placed. Opening from my room was Mr. Holladay'sprivate office. 

"Had Mr. Holladay's office any other door?"

"No, sir. "

"Could entrance be had by the windows?"

"The windows open on the street side of the building. We occupy a partof the eighth floor. "

"The fire-escapes----"

"Are at the back of the building--there are none on the streetside--nothing but a sheer wall. "

"So that anyone entering or leaving the private office mustnecessarily pass by your desk?"

"Necessarily; yes, sir. "

"Could anyone pass without your seeing him?"

"No, sir; that would be quite impossible. "

The coroner leaned back in his chair. There was one point settled. 

"Now, Mr. Rogers, " he said, "will you kindly tell us, in your own wayand with as much detail as possible, exactly what happened at youroffice shortly before five o'clock yesterday afternoon?"

I could see that Rogers was deeply moved. His face was very white, hemoistened his lips nervously from time to time, and his hands graspedconvulsively the arms of his chair. Plainly, the task before him wasfar from an agreeable one. 

"Well, sir, " he began, "we had a very busy day yesterday, and were atthe office considerably later than usual; but by five o'clock we hadclosed up work for the day, and all the other clerks, with theexception of the office-boy, had gone home. I had made some notes fromMr. Holladay's dictation, and had returned to my desk to arrange them, when the outer door opened and Mr. Holladay's daughter came in. Sheasked me whether her father was engaged, and upon my saying no, openedthe inner door and entered his office. She remained, I should think, about ten minutes; then she came out again, walked rapidly pastwithout looking at me, and, I suppose, left the building. I finishedarranging my notes, and then entered Mr. Holladay's office to ask ifhe had any further instructions for me, and I found him lying forwardon his desk, with a knife sticking in his neck and the blood spurtingout. I summoned aid, but he died without regaining consciousness--Ishould say he was practically dead when I found him. "

I felt, rather than heard, the little stir which ran through the room. There was an indefinable horror in the story and in the conclusion towhich it inevitably led. 

"Now, let us go back a moment, " said the coroner, as Rogers stoppedand mopped his forehead feverishly. "I want the jury to understandyour story thoroughly. Mr. Holladay had been dictating to you?"

"Yes. "

"And was quite well?"

"Yes--as well as usual. He'd been suffering with indigestion for sometime past. "

"Still he was able to attend to business?"

"Oh, yes, sir. There was nothing at all serious in his illness. "

"You then left his office and returned to your own. How long had youbeen there before the outer door opened?"

"Not over five minutes. "

"And who was it entered?"

"Miss Frances Holladay--the daughter of my employer. "

"You're quite sure? You know her well?"

"Very well. I've known her for many years. She often drove to theoffice in the evening to take her father home. I supposed that waswhat she came for yesterday. "

"You looked at her attentively?"

Rogers hitched impatiently in his chair. 

"I glanced at her, as I always do, " he said. "I didn't stare. "

"But you're quite sure it was Miss Holladay?"

"Absolutely sure, sir. Good God!" he cried, his nerves giving way foran instant, "do you suppose I'd make an assertion like that if Iwasn't absolutely sure?"

"No, " said the coroner soothingly; "no, I don't suppose any suchthing, not for a moment, Mr. Rogers; only I want the jury to see howcertain the identification is. Shall I proceed?"

"Go ahead, sir, " said Rogers. "I'll try to hold myself together alittle better, sir. "

"I can see what a strain this is for you, " said the coroner kindly;"and I'll spare you as much as I can. Now, after Miss Holladay enteredthe inner office, how long did she remain there?"

"About ten minutes, I should say; not longer than that, certainly. "

"Did you hear any sound of conversation, or any unusual noise of anykind?"

"No, sir. It would have been a very unusual noise to be audible. Mr. Holladay's office has heavy walls and a double door which completelyshut off all sounds from within. "

"Miss Holladay then came out?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And walked past you?"

"Yes, sir; walked past me rapidly. "

"Did you not think that peculiar?"

"Why, sir, she didn't often stop to speak to me. I was busy and sothought nothing particularly about it. "

"Did you notice her face? Did she seem perturbed?"

"No, sir; I didn't notice. I just glanced up and bowed. In fact, Ididn't see her face at all, for she had lowered her veil. "

"Her veil!" repeated the coroner. "You hadn't mentioned that she worea veil. "

"No, sir; when she came into the office she had lifted it up over herhat-brim--you know how women do. "

"Yes--so you saw her face distinctly when she entered?"

"Yes, sir. "

"But when she went out, she had lowered her veil. Was it a heavy one?"

"Why, sir, " the witness hesitated, "just an ordinary veil, I shouldsay. "

"But still heavy enough to conceal her face?"

"Oh, yes, sir. "

The coroner nodded. "Now, Mr. Rogers, how long a time elapsed afterthe departure of the woman before you went back into the inneroffice?"

"Not more than three or four minutes. I thought perhaps Mr. Holladaywas getting ready to accompany his daughter, and I didn't wish todetain him. "

"And you found him, as you say, lying forward across his desk with aknife in his throat and the blood spurting out. Did you recognize theknife?"

"Yes, sir. It was his knife--a knife he kept lying on his desk tosharpen pencils with and erase and so on. "

"Sharp, was it?"

"It had one long blade, very sharp, sir. "

The coroner picked up a knife that was lying on the desk before him. 

"Is this the knife?" he asked. 

Rogers looked at it carefully. 

"That's the knife, sir, " he said, and it was passed to the jury. Whenthey had finished with it, Mr. Royce and I examined it. It was anordinary one-bladed erasing knife with ivory handle. It was open, theblade being about two inches and a half in length, and, as I soonconvinced myself, very sharp indeed. 

"Will you describe Mr. Holladay's position?" continued the coroner. 

"He was lying forward on the desk, with his arms outstretched and hishead to one side. "

"And there was a great deal of blood?"

"Oh, a great deal! Someone, apparently, had attempted to check it, for a little distance away there was a handkerchief soaked in blood. "

The coroner picked up a handkerchief and handed it to the witness. 

"Is that the handkerchief?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir, " said Rogers, after a moment. 

"Is it a man's or a woman's handkerchief?"

"Oh, a woman's undoubtedly. "

The jury examined it and so did we. It was a small square of finecambric with no mark that I could see, soaked through and through withblood--unquestionably a woman's handkerchief. Then Rogers told therest of the story--how he had summoned aid and informed the police. 

"Now, Mr. Rogers, " said the coroner, when he had finished, "there isone point more. Has there been anything in your knowledge of Mr. Holladay or his business to suggest the idea of suicide?"

The witness shook his head decidedly. 

"Nothing whatever, sir, " he said positively. "His business wasprospering; he was happy and contented--why, he was planning for atrip abroad with his daughter. "

"Let us suppose for a moment, " continued Goldberg, "that he didactually stab himself in his daughter's presence; what would younaturally expect her to do?"

"I should expect her to give the alarm--to summon aid, " repliedRogers. 

"Certainly--unquestionably, " and Goldberg nodded to my chief. "I turnthe witness over to you, Mr. Royce, " he said. 

"Now, Mr. Rogers, " began our junior impressively, "you know, ofcourse, that this whole case hinges, at present, on youridentification of the woman who, presumably, was in Mr. Holladay'soffice when he was stabbed. I want to be very sure of thatidentification. Will you tell me how she was dressed?"

The witness paused for a moment's thought. 

"She wore a dress of very dark red, " he said at last, "with some sortof narrow dark trimming--black, possibly. That's all I can tell youabout it. "

"And the hat?"

"I didn't notice the hat, sir. I only glanced at her. "

"But in that glance, Mr. Rogers, did you see nothing unusual--nothingwhich suggested to your mind that possibly it might not be MissHolladay?"

"Nothing, sir. "

"Some change of demeanor, perhaps; of expression?"

The witness hesitated. 

"I thought she was looking not quite so well as usual, " he saidslowly. "She seemed a little pale and worried. "

"Ah! It was dark in the office, was it not, at five o'clock yesterdayafternoon?"

"We had turned on the lights half an hour before, sir. "

"Is your office well lighted?"

"I have a light over my desk, sir, and there's another on the wall. "

"So you could not see your visitor's face with absolute clearness?"

"No, sir; but quite clearly enough to recognize her, " he addeddoggedly. 

"Yet you thought her looking pale and worried. "

"Yes, sir; that was my impression. "

"And when she asked for Mr. Holladay, did she use the words 'myfather, ' as your evidence would suggest?"

Again the witness hesitated in the effort at recollection. 

"No, sir, " he answered finally. "Her words, I think, were, 'Is Mr. Holladay engaged at present?'"

"It was Miss Holladay's voice?"

"I could not say, sir, " answered the witness, again mopping theperspiration from his forehead. "I have no wish to incriminate MissHolladay unnecessarily. I'm not sufficiently well acquainted with hervoice to swear to it. "

"Well, when you answered her question in the negative, did shehesitate before entering the private office?"

"No, sir; she went straight to it. "

"Is there any lettering on the door?"

"Oh, yes, the usual lettering, 'Private Office. '"

"So that, even if she were not acquainted with the place, she mightstill have seen where to go?"

"Yes, sir; I suppose so. "

"And you stated, too, I believe, that you could have heard no sound ofan altercation in the private office, had one occurred?"

"No, sir; I could have heard nothing. "

"You have been with Mr. Holladay a long time, I believe, Mr. Rogers?"

"Over thirty years, sir. "

"And you are intimately acquainted with his affairs?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Now, Mr. Rogers, have you ever, in all these years, ran acrossanything--any item of expenditure, any correspondence, anythingwhatever--which would lead you to think that Mr. Holladay was a victimof blackmail, or that he had ever had a liaison with a woman?"

"No, sir!" cried the witness. "No, sir! I'm willing to swear that sucha thing is not possible. I should inevitably have found it out had itexisted. "

"That will do for the present, " said Mr. Royce. "I shall want torecall the witness, however, sir. "

The coroner nodded, and Rogers stepped down, still trembling from theeffects of his last outburst. I confess that, for my part, I thoughtwe were very deep in the mire. 

The office-boy was called next, but added nothing to the story. Hehad gone to the chute to mail some letters; the woman must haveentered the office while he was away. He saw her come out again, but, of course, did not see her face. He had been employed recently, anddid not know Miss Holladay. 

Then the physicians who had attended the dead man were called, andtestified that the knife-blade had penetrated the left carotid artery, and that he had bled to death--was dead, indeed, before they reachedhim. It would take, perhaps, ten minutes to produce such an effusionof blood as Rogers had noticed--certainly more than five, so that theblow must have been struck before the woman left the inner office. 

The policeman who had responded to the alarm testified that he hadexamined the windows, and that they were both bolted on the inside, precluding the possibility of anyone swinging down from above orclambering up from below. Nothing in the office had been disturbed. There was other evidence of an immaterial nature, and then MissHolladay's maid was called. 

"Was your mistress away from home yesterday afternoon?" asked thecoroner. 

"Yes, sir; she had the carriage ordered for three o'clock. She wasdriven away shortly after that. "

"And what time did she return?"

"About six, sir; just in time to dress for dinner. "

"Did you notice anything unusual in her demeanor when she returned?"

The maid hesitated, fearing doubtless that she might say too much. 

"Miss Holladay had complained of a headache in the morning, " she said, after a moment. "She was looking badly when she went out, and thedrive made her worse instead of better. She seemed very nervous andill. I advised her to lie down and not dress for dinner, but she wouldnot listen. She always dined with her father, and did not wish todisappoint him. She was in a great hurry, fearing that he'd get backbefore she was ready. "

"There's no doubt in your mind that she was really expecting him?"

"Oh, no, sir; she even went to the door to look for him when he didnot come. She seemed very uneasy about him. "

That was one point in our favor certainly. 

"And when the news of her father's death reached her, how did she bearit?"

"She didn't bear it at all, sir, " answered the maid, catching herbreath to choke back a sob. "She fainted dead away. Afterwards, sheseemed to be in a kind of daze till the doctor came. "

"That is all. Have you any questions to ask the witness, Mr. Royce?"

"Only one, " said my chief, leaning forward. I knew what it was, andheld my breath, wondering whether it were wise to ask it. "Do youremember the gown your mistress wore yesterday afternoon?" hequestioned. 

"Oh, yes, sir, " and the witness brightened. "It was a dark redbroadcloth, made very plain, with only a little narrow black braid fortrimming. "

CHAPTER III

The Coil Tightens

From the breathless silence that followed her answer, she saw that shehad somehow dealt her mistress a heavy blow, and the sobs burst outbeyond control, choking her. I could see how my chief's face turnedlivid. He had driven another rivet in the chain--just the one itneeded to hold it firmly together. My head was whirling. Could it bepossible, after all, that this gentle, cultured girl was really such afiend at heart that she could strike down. . . . I put the thought fromme. It was monstrous, unbelievable!

The coroner and the district attorney were whispering together, and Isaw the former glance from the blood-stained handkerchief on the deskbefore him to the sobbing woman on the stand. It needed only that--heridentification of that square of cambric--to complete the evidence. He hesitated a moment, said another word or two to Singleton, thenstraightened up again in his chair. Perhaps he thought the chain wasstrong enough; perhaps he saw only that the witness was in nocondition to go on. 

"Anything further, Mr. Royce?" he asked. 

"Not at present, sir, " answered our junior hoarsely. I think he wasjust beginning fully to realize how desperate our case was. 

"We will dismiss the witness, then, temporarily, " said the coroner. "We shall probably recall her later on. "

The maid was led back to the witness room on the verge of hysteria, and Goldberg looked over the papers on his desk. 

"We have one more witness, " he said at last, "Miss Holladay'scoachman, and perhaps a little testimony in rebuttal. If you wish toadjourn for lunch, Mr. Royce, I'm quite ready to do so. "

"Thank you, sir, " said my chief, welcoming any opportunity to pullhimself together and prepare a plan of defense. "I _do_ wish it. "

"Very well, then; we'll adjourn till two o'clock, " and he pushed backhis chair. 

"May I have one word with you, sir?" asked Mr. Royce. 

"Certainly. "

"I should like to see Miss Holladay a few moments in private. We wish, of course, to arrange our rebuttal. "

The coroner looked at him for a moment with eyes in which just a tingeof curiosity flickered. 

"I'll be very glad to allow you to see her in private, " he answeredreadily. "I regret greatly that we couldn't find you last night, sothat you could have opportunity to prepare for this hearing. I feelthat, in a way, we haven't been quite fair to you, though I don't seehow delay could have altered matters, and, in a case of this kind, prompt action is important. I had no intention of placing MissHolladay on the witness stand, so I thought it best to proceed at oncewith the inquest. You must admit, sir, that, as the case stands, there's only one course open to me. "

"I fear so, " assented the other sadly. "It's a most incomprehensiblecase. The chain of evidence seems absolutely complete, and yet I'mconvinced--as every sane man must be--that there is in it some fatalflaw, which, once discovered, will send the whole structure tottering. It must be my business to find that flaw. "

"Strange things happen in this world, Mr. Royce, " observed Singletonwith a philosophy born of experience. 

"The impossible never happens, sir!" retorted our junior. "I hope toshow you that this belongs in that category. "

"Well, I hope you will, " said the district attorney. "I'd be glad tofind that someone else is guilty. "

"I'll do my best, " and Mr. Royce turned to me. "Lester, you'd bettergo and get some lunch. You look quite done up. "

"Shall I bring you something?" I asked. "Or, better still, have a mealready for you in half an hour? Rotin's is just around the corner. "

He would have refused, I think, had not the coroner interfered. 

"You'd better go, Mr. Royce, " he said. "You're looking done upyourself. Perhaps you can persuade Miss Holladay to eat something. I'msure she needs it. "

"Very well, then; have two meals ready in half an hour, Lester, " hesaid, "and a lunch we can bring back with us. I'll go to Miss Holladaynow, and then come direct to Rotin's. "

He hurried away after the coroner, and I walked slowly over to Rotin'sto give the necessary orders. I chose a table in a snug corner, pickedup a paper, and tried to read. Its one great item of news was theHolladay case, and I grew hot with anger, as I saw how unquestioningly, how complacently, it accepted the theory of the daughter's guilt. Still, I asked myself, was it to blame? Was anyone to blame forthinking her guilty after hearing the evidence? How could one escapeit? Why, even I----

Preposterous! I tried to reason calmly; to find an opening in the net. Yet, how complete it was! The only point we had gained, so far, wasthat the mysterious visitor had asked for Mr. Holladay, not for herfather--and what an infinitesimal point it was! Supposing there hadbeen a quarrel, an estrangement, would not she naturally have usedthose very words? After all, did not the black eyes, the full lips, the deep-colored cheeks bespeak a strong and virile temperament, depthof emotion, capacity for swift and violent anger? But what cause couldthere be for a quarrel so bitter, so fierce, that it should lead tosuch a tragedy? What cause? And then, suddenly, a wave of light brokein upon me. There could be only one--yes, but there _could_ be one!Capacity for emotion meant capacity for passion. If she had a lover, if she had clung to him despite her father! I knew his reputation forseverity, for cold and relentless condemnation. Here was anexplanation, certainly!

And then I shook myself together angrily. Here was I, reasoning alongthe theory of her guilt--trying to find a motive for it! I rememberedher as I had seen her often, driving with her father; I recalled themany stories I had heard of their devotion; I reflected how her wholelife, so far as I knew it, pointed to a nature singularly calm andself-controlled, charitable and loving. As to the lover theory, didnot the light in her eyes which had greeted our junior disprove that, at once and forever? Certainly, there was some fatal flaw in theevidence, and it was for us to find it. 

I leaned my head back against the wall with a little sigh of relief. What a fool I had been! Of course, we should find it! Mr. Royce hadspoken the words, the district attorney had pointed out the way. Wehad only to prove an alibi! And the next witness would do it. Hercoachman had only to tell where he had driven her, at what places shehad stopped, and the whole question would be settled. At the hour thecrime was committed, she had doubtless been miles away from WallStreet! So the question would be settled--settled, too, without thenecessity of Miss Holladay undergoing the unpleasant ordeal ofcross-examination. 

"It is a most extraor-rdinary affair, " said a voice at my elbow, and Iturned with a start to see that the chair just behind me had beentaken by a man who was also reading an account of the crime. He laidthe paper down, and caught my eye. "A most extraor-rdinary affair!" herepeated, appealing to me. 

I nodded, merely glancing at him, too preoccupied to notice himclosely. I got an impression of a florid face, of a stout, well-dressed body, of an air unmistakably French. 

"You will pardon me, sir, " he added, leaning a little forward. "As astranger in this country, I am much inter-rested in your processes oflaw. This morning I was present at the trial--I per-rceived you there. It seemed to me that the young lady was in--what you call--a tightplace. "

He spoke English very well, with an accent of the slightest. I glancedat him again, and saw that his eyes were very bright and that theywere fixed upon me intently. 

"It does seem so, " I admitted, loth to talk, yet not wishing to bediscourteous. 

"The ver' thing I said to myself!" he continued eagerly. "The--whatyou call--coe-encidence of the dress, now!"

I did not answer; I was in no humor to discuss the case. 

"You will pardon me, " he repeated persuasively, still leaning forward, "but concer-rning one point I should like much to know. If she isthought guilty what will occur?"

"She will be bound over to the grand jury, " I explained. 

"That is, she will be placed in prison?"

"Of course. "

"But, as I understand your law, she may be released by bondsmen. "

"Not in a capital case, " I said; "not in a case of this kind, wherethe penalty may be death. "

"Ah, I see, " and he nodded slowly. "She would then not be againreleased until after she shall have been proved innocent. How great atime would that occupy?"

"I can't say--six months--a year, perhaps. "

"Ah, I see, " he said again, and drained a glass of absinthe he hadbeen toying with. "Thank you, ver' much, sir. "

He arose and went slowly out, and I noted the strength of his figure, the short neck----

The waiter came with bread and butter, and I realized suddenly that itwas long past the half-hour. Indeed, a glance at my watch showed methat nearly an hour had gone. I waited fifteen minutes longer, atewhat I could, and, taking a box-lunch under my arm, hurried back tothe coroner's office. As I entered it, I saw a bowed figure sitting atthe table, and my heart fell as I recognized our junior. His wholeattitude expressed a despair absolute, past redemption. 

"I've brought your lunch, Mr. Royce, " I said, with what lightness Icould muster. "The proceedings will commence in half an hour--you'dbetter eat something, " and I opened the box. 

He looked at it for a moment, and then began mechanically to eat. 

"You look regularly done up, " I ventured. "Wouldn't I better get youa glass of brandy? That'll tone you up. "

"All right, " he assented listlessly, and I hurried away on the errand. 

The brandy brought a little color back to his cheeks, and he began toeat with more interest. 

"Must I order lunch for Miss Holladay?" I questioned. 

"No, " he said. "She said she didn't wish any. "

He relapsed again into silence. Plainly, he had received some new blowduring my absence. 

"After all, " I began, "you know we've only to prove an alibi to knockto pieces this whole house of cards. "

"Yes, that's all, " he agreed. "But suppose we can't do it, Lester?"

"Can't do it?" I faltered. "Do you mean----?"

"I mean that Miss Holladay positively refuses to say where she spentyesterday afternoon. "

"Does she understand the--the necessity?" I asked. 

"I pointed it out to her as clearly as I could. I'm all at sea, Lester. "

Well, if even he were beginning to doubt, matters were indeed serious!

"It's incomprehensible!" I sighed, after a moment's confused thought. "It's----"

"Yes--past believing. "

"But the coachman----"

"The coachman's evidence, I fear, won't help us much--rather thereverse. "

I actually gasped for breath--I felt like a drowning man from whosegrasp the saving rope had suddenly, unaccountably, been snatched. 

"In that case----" I began, and stopped. 

"Well, in that case?"

"We must find some other way out, " I concluded lamely. 

"_Is_ there another way, Lester?" he demanded, wheeling round upon mefiercely. "_Is_ there another way? If there is, I wish to God you'dshow it to me!"

"There must be!" I protested desperately, striving to convince myself. "There must be; only, I fear, it will take some little time to find. "

"And meanwhile, Miss Holladay will be remanded! Think what that willmean to her, Lester!"

I had thought. I was desperate as he--but to find the flaw, the weakspot in the chain, required, I felt, a better brain than mine. I waslost in a whirlwind of perplexities. 

"Well, we must do our best, " he went on more calmly, after a moment. "I haven't lost hope yet--chance often directs these things. Besides, at worst, I think Miss Holladay will change her mind. Whatever hersecret, it were better to reveal it than to spend a single hour in theTombs. She simply _must_ change her mind! And thanks, Lester, foryour thoughtfulness. You've put new life into me. "

I cleared away the débris of the lunch, and a few moments later theroom began to fill again. At last the coroner and district attorneycame in together, and the former rapped for order. 

"The inquest will continue, " he said, "with the examination of JohnBrooks, Miss Holladay's coachman. "

I can give his evidence in two words. His mistress had driven directlydown the avenue to Washington Square. There she had left the carriage, bidding him wait for her, and had continued southward into the squalidFrench quarter. He had lost sight of her in a moment, and had drivenslowly about for more than two hours before she reappeared. She hadordered him to drive home as rapidly as he could, and he had notstopped until he reached the house. Her gown? Yes, he had noticed thatit was a dark red. He had not seen her face, for it was veiled. No, he had never before driven her to that locality. 

Quaking at heart, I realized that only one person could extricateFrances Holladay from the coil woven about her. If she persisted insilence, there was no hope for her. But that she should still refuseto speak was inconceivable, unless----

"That is all, " said the coroner. "Will you cross-examine the witness, Mr. Royce?"

My chief shook his head silently, and Brooks left the stand. 

Again the coroner and Singleton whispered together. 

"We will recall Miss Holladay's maid, " said the former at last. 

She was on the stand again in a moment, calmer than she had been, butdeadly pale. 

"Are your mistress's handkerchiefs marked in any way?" Goldberg asked, as she turned to him. 

"Some of them are, yes, sir, with her initials, in the form of amonogram. Most of them are plain. "

"Do you recognize this one?" and he handed her the ghastly piece ofevidence. 

I held my breath while the woman looked it over, turning it withtrembling fingers. 

"No, sir!" she replied emphatically, as she returned it to him. 

"Does your mistress possess any handkerchiefs that resemble this one?"

"Oh, yes, sir; it's an ordinary cambric handkerchief of good qualitysuch as most ladies use. "

I breathed a long sigh of relief; here, at least, fortune favored us. 

"That is all. Have you any questions, Mr. Royce?"

Again our junior shook his head. 

"That concludes our case, " added the coroner. "Have you any witnessesto summon, sir?"

What witnesses could we have? Only one--and I fancied that the jurymenwere looking at us expectantly. If our client were indeed innocent, why should we hesitate to put her on the stand, to give heropportunity to defend herself, to enable her to shatter, in a fewwords, this chain of circumstance so firmly forged about her? If shewere innocent, would she not naturally wish to speak in her ownbehalf? Did not her very unwillingness to speak argue----

"Ask for a recess, " I whispered. "Go to Miss Holladay, and tell herthat unless she speaks----"

But before Mr. Royce could answer, a policeman pushed his way forwardfrom the rear of the room and handed a note to the coroner. 

"A messenger brought this a moment ago, sir, " he explained. 

The coroner glanced at the superscription and handed it to my chief. 

"It's for you, Mr. Royce, " he said. 

I saw that the address read, For Mr. Royce, Attorney for the Defense. 

He tore it open, and ran his eyes rapidly over the inclosure. He readit through a second time, then held out the paper to me with anexpression of the blankest amazement. The note read:

 The man Rogers is lying. The woman who was with Holladay wore a gown of dark green. 

CHAPTER IV

I Have an Inspiration

I stared at the lines in dumb bewilderment. "The man Rogers is lying. "But what conceivable motive could he have for lying? Besides, as Ilooked at him on the stand, I would have sworn that he was telling thetruth, and very much against his will. I had always rather pridedmyself upon my judgment of human nature--had I erred so egregiously inthis instance? "The woman who was with Holladay wore a gown of darkgreen. " Who was the writer of the note? How did he know the color ofher gown? There was only one possible way he could know--he knew thewoman. Plainly, too, he must have been present at the morning hearing. But if he knew so much, why did he not himself come forward? To this, too, there was but one answer--he must be an accomplice. But then, again, if he were an accomplice, why should he imperil himself bywriting this note, for it could very probably be traced? I foundmyself deeper in the mire, farther from the light, at every step. 

"Do you wish to summon any witnesses, Mr. Royce?" asked the coroneragain. "I shall be glad to adjourn the hearing until to-morrow if youdo. "

Mr. Royce roused himself with an effort. 

"Thank you, sir, " he said. "I may ask you to do that later on. Just atpresent, I wish to recall Mr. Rogers. "

"Very well, " said the coroner, and Rogers was summoned from thewitness room. 

I looked at him attentively, trying to fathom his thoughts, to readbehind his eyes; but look as I might, I could see nothing in his facesave concern and grief. He had grown gray in Holladay's office; he hadproved himself, a hundred times, a man to be relied on; he had everyreason to feel affection and gratitude toward his employer, and I wascertain that he felt both; he received a liberal salary, I knew, andwas comfortably well-to-do. 

That he himself could have committed the crime or been concerned in itin any way was absolutely unthinkable. Yet why should he lie? Aboveall, why should he seek to implicate his employer's daughter? Even ifhe wished to implicate her, how could he have known the color of hergown? What dark, intricate problem was this that confronted us?

In the moment that followed, I saw that Mr. Royce was studying him, too, was straining to find a ray of light for guidance. If we failednow----

I read the note through again--"a gown of dark green"--and suddenly, by a kind of clairvoyance, the solution of the mystery leaped forthfrom it. I leaned over to my chief, trembling with eagerness. 

"Mr. Royce, " I whispered hoarsely, "I believe I've solved the puzzle. Hold Rogers on the stand a few moments until I get back. "

He looked up at me astonished; then nodded, as I seized my hat, andpushed my way through the crowd. Once outside the building, I ran tothe nearest dry-goods house--three blocks away it was, and whatfearfully long blocks they seemed!--then back again to the courtroom. Rogers was still on the stand, but a glance at Mr. Royce told me thathe had elicited nothing new. 

"You take him, Lester, " he said, as I sat down beside him. "I'm wornout. "

Quivering with apprehension, I arose. It was the first time I had beengiven the center of the stage in so important a case. Here was myopportunity! Suppose my theory should break down, after all!

"Mr. Rogers, " I began, "you've been having some trouble with youreyes, haven't you?"

He looked at me in surprise. 

"Why, yes, a little, " he said. "Nothing to amount to anything. Howdid you know?"

My confidence had come back again. I was on the right track, then!

"I did not know, " I said, smiling for the first time since I hadentered the room. "But I suspected. I have here a number of pieces ofcloth of different colors. I should like you to pick out the one thatmost nearly approximates the color of the gown your visitor woreyesterday afternoon. "

I handed him the bundle of samples, and as I did so, I saw thedistrict attorney lean forward over his desk with attentive face. Thewitness looked through the samples slowly, while I watched him withfeverish eagerness. Mr. Royce had caught an inkling of my meaning andwas watching him, too. 

"There's nothing here, " said Rogers, at last, "which seems quite theshade. But this is very near it. "

He held up one of the pieces. With leaping heart, I heard the gasp ofastonishment which ran around the room. The jurymen were leaningforward in their chairs. 

"And what is the color of that piece?" I asked. 

"Why, dark red. I've stated that already. "

I glanced triumphantly at the coroner. 

"Your honor, " I said, as calmly as I could, "I think we've found theflaw in the chain. Mr. Rogers is evidently color-blind. As you see, the piece he has selected is a dark green. "

The whole audience seemed to draw a deep breath, and a little clatterof applause ran around the room. I could hear the scratch, scratch ofthe reporters' pencils--here was a situation after their hearts'desire! Mr. Royce had me by the hand, and was whispering brokenly inmy ear. 

"My dear fellow; you're the best of us all; I'll never forget it!"

But Rogers was staring in amazement from me to the cloth in his hand, and back again. 

"Green!" he stammered. "Color-blind! Why, that's nonsense! I've neversuspected it!"

"That's probable enough, " I assented. "The failing is no doubt arecent one. Most color-blind persons don't know it until their sightis tested. Of course, we shall have an oculist examine you; but Ithink this evidence is pretty conclusive. "

Coroner Goldberg nodded, and the district attorney settled back in hischair. 

"We've no further questions to ask this witness at present, " Icontinued. "Only I'd like you to preserve this piece of cloth, sir, "and I handed it to Goldberg. He placed it with the other exhibits onhis desk, and I sat down again beside my chief. He had regained allhis old-time energy and keenness--he seemed another man. 

"I should like to recall Miss Holladay's maid, if you please, " hesaid; and the girl was summoned, while Rogers stumbled dazedly off tothe witness room. 

"You're quite sure your mistress wore a dark red gown yesterdayafternoon?" he asked, when the girl was on the stand again. 

"Oh, yes, sir; quite sure. "

"It was not dark green? Think carefully, now!"

"I don't have to think!" she retorted sharply, with a toss of herhead. "Miss Holladay hasn't any dark green gown--nor light one, either. She never wears green--she doesn't like it--it doesn't suither. "

"That will do, " said Mr. Royce, and the girl went back to the witnessroom without understanding in the least the meaning of the questions. "Now, let us have the office-boy again, " he said, and that youngworthy was called out. 

"You say you didn't see the face of that woman who left your officeyesterday afternoon?"

"No, sir. "

"But you saw her gown?"

"Oh, yes, sir. "

"And what color was it?"

"Dark green, sir. "

"That will do, " said our junior, and sank back in his chair with asigh of relief. The solution had been under our hands in the morning, and we had missed it! Well, we had found it now. "Gentlemen, " headded, his voice a-ring, his face alight, as he sprang to his feet andfaced the jury, "I'm ready for your verdict. I wish only to point outthat with this one point, the whole case against my client falls tothe ground! It was preposterous from the very first!"

He sat down again, and glanced at the coroner. 

"Gentlemen of the jury, " began Goldberg, "I have merely to remind youthat your verdict, whatever it may be, will not finally affect thiscase. The police authorities will continue their investigations inorder that the guilty person may not escape. I conceive that it isnot within our province to probe this case further--that may be leftto abler and more experienced hands; nor do I think we shouldinculpate anyone so long as there is a reasonable doubt of his guilt. We await your verdict. "

The jury filed slowly out, and I watched them anxiously. In face ofthe coroner's instructions, they could bring in but one verdict; yet Iknew from experience that a jury is ever an unknown quantity, oftenproducing the most unexpected results. 

The district attorney came down from his seat and shook hands withboth of us. 

"That was a great stroke!" he said, with frank admiration. "Whatevermade you suspect?"

Mr. Royce handed him the note for answer. He read it through, andstared back at us in astonishment. 

"Why, " he began, "who wrote this?"

"That's the note that was delivered to us a while ago, " answered Mr. Royce. "You know as much about it as we do. But it seems to me apretty important piece of evidence. I turn it over to you. "

"Important!" cried Singleton. "I should say so! Why, gentlemen, " andhis eyes were gleaming, "this was written either by an accomplice orby the woman herself!"

My chief nodded. 

"Precisely, " he said. "I'd get on the track of the writer withoutdelay. "

Singleton turned and whispered a few words to a clerk, who hurriedfrom the room. Then he motioned to two smooth-faced, well-built menwho sat near by, spoke a word to the coroner, and retired with theminto the latter's private office. The reporters crowded about us withcongratulations and questions. They scented a mystery. What was thematter with Singleton? What was the new piece of evidence? Was it thenote? What was in the note?

Mr. Royce smiled. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "I trust that my connection with this affairwill end in a very few minutes. For any further information, I mustrefer you to the district attorney--the case is in his hands. "

But those men he had summoned into his office were Karle and Johnston, the cleverest detectives on the force. What did he want with them? Mr. Royce merely shrugged his shoulders. Whereat the reporters desertedhim and massed themselves before the door into the coroner's room. Itopened in a moment, and the two detectives came hurrying out. Theylooked neither to the right nor left, but shouldered their way cruellythrough the crowd, paying not the slightest attention to the questionsshowered upon them. Then the district attorney came out, and took inthe situation at a glance. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, raising his voice, "I can answer no questions. Imust request you to resume your seats, or I shall ask the coroner toclear the room. "

They knew that he meant what he said, so they went back to theirchairs chagrined, disgusted, biting their nails, striving vainly towork out a solution to the puzzle. It was the coroner's clerk whocreated a diversion. 

"The jury is ready to report, sir, " he announced. 

"Very well; bring them out, " and the jurymen filed slowly back totheir seats. I gazed at each face, and cursed the inexpressiveness ofthe human countenance. 

"Have you arrived at a verdict, gentlemen?" asked the coroner. 

"We have, sir, " answered one of them, and handed a paper to the clerk. 

"Is this your verdict, gentlemen?" asked the coroner. "Do you allconcur in it?"

They answered in the affirmative as their names were called. 

"The clerk will read the verdict, " said Goldberg. 

Julius stood up and cleared his throat. 

"We, the jury, " he read, "impaneled in the case of Hiram W. Holladay, deceased, do find that he came to his death from a stab wound in theneck, inflicted by a pen-knife in the hands of a person or personsunknown. "

CHAPTER V

I Dine with a Fascinating Stranger

The coroner dismissed the jury, and came down and shook hands with us. 

"I'm going to reward you for your clever work, Mr. Royce, " he said. "Will you take the good news to Miss Holladay?"

My chief could not repress the swift flush of pleasure which reddenedhis cheeks, but he managed to speak unconcernedly. 

"Why, yes; certainly. I'll be glad to, if you wish it, " he said. 

"I do wish it, " Goldberg assured him, with a tact and penetration Ithough admirable. "You may dismiss the policeman who is with her. "

Our junior looked inquiringly at the district attorney. 

"Before I go, " he said, "may I ask what you intend doing, sir?"

"I intend finding the writer of that note, " answered Singleton, smiling. 

"But, about Miss Holladay?"

Singleton tapped his lips thoughtfully with his pencil. 

"Before I answer, " he said at last, "I should like to go with you andask her one question. "

"Very well, " assented Mr. Royce instantly, and led the way to the roomwhere Miss Holladay awaited us. 

She rose with flushing face as we entered, and stood looking at uswithout speaking; but, despite her admirable composure, I could guesshow she was racked with anxiety. 

"Miss Holladay, " began my chief, "this is Mr. Singleton, the districtattorney, who wishes to ask you a few questions. "

"One question only, " corrected Singleton, bowing. "Were you at yourfather's office yesterday afternoon, Miss Holladay?"

"No, sir, " she answered, instantly and emphatically. "I have not beennear my father's office for more than a week. "

I saw him studying her for a moment, then he bowed again. 

"That is all, " he said. "I don't think the evidence justifies me inholding her, Mr. Royce, " and he left the room. I followed him, for Iknew that I had no further part in our junior's errand. I went back toour table and busied myself gathering together our belongings. Theroom had gradually cleared, and at the end of ten minutes only thecoroner and his clerk remained. They had another case, it seemed, toopen in the morning--another case which, perhaps, involved just asgreat heartache and anguish as ours had. Five minutes later my chiefcame hurrying back to me, and a glance at his beaming eyes told me howhe had been welcomed. 

"Miss Holladay has started home with her maid, " he said. "She asked meto thank you for her for the great work you did this afternoon, Lester. I told her it was really you who had done everything. Yes, itwas!" he added, answering my gesture of denial. "While I was gropinghelplessly around in the dark, you found the way to the light. Butcome; we must get back to the office. "

We found a cab at the curb, and in a moment were rolling back over theroute we had traversed that morning--ages ago, as it seemed to me! Itwas only a few minutes after three o'clock, and I reflected that Ishould yet have time to complete the papers in the Hurd case beforeleaving for the night. 

Mr. Graham was still at his desk, and he at once demanded an accountof the hearing. I went back to my work, and so caught only a word hereand there--enough, however, to show me that our senior was deeplyinterested in this extraordinary affair. As for me, I put all thoughtof it resolutely from me, and devoted myself to the work in hand. Itwas done at last, and I locked my desk with a sigh of relief. Mr. Graham nodded to me kindly as I passed out, and I left the office withthe comfortable feeling that I had done a good day's work for myself, as well as for my employers. 

A man who had apparently been loitering in the hall followed me intothe elevator. 

"This is Mr. Lester, isn't it?" he asked, as the car started todescend. 

"Yes, " I said, looking at him in surprise. He was well dressed, withalert eyes and strong, pleasing face. I had never seen him before. 

"And you're going to dinner, aren't you, Mr. Lester?" he continued. 

"Yes--to dinner, " I assented, more and more surprised. 

"Now, don't think me impertinent, " he said, smiling at my look ofamazement, "but I want you to dine with me this evening. I can promiseyou as good a meal as you will get at most places in New York. "

"But I'm not dressed, " I protested. 

"That doesn't matter in the least--neither am I, you see. We will dinein a _solitude à deux_. "

"Where?" I questioned. 

"Well, how would the Studio suit?"

The car had reached the ground floor, and we left it together. I wascompletely in the dark as to my companion's purpose, and yet it couldhave but one explanation--it must be connected in some way with theHolladay case. Unless--and I glanced at him again. No, certainly, hewas not a confidence man--even if he was, I would rather welcome theadventure. My curiosity won the battle. 

"Very well, " I said. "I'll be glad to accept your invitation, Mr. ----"

He nodded approvingly. 

"There spoke the man of sense. Well, you shall not go unrewarded. Godfrey is my name--no, you don't know me, but I'll soon explainmyself. Here's my cab. "

I mounted into it, he after me. It seemed to me that there was anunusual number of loiterers about the door of the building, but wewere off in a moment, and I did not give them a second thought. Werattled out into Broadway, and turned northward for the three-milestraightaway run to Union Square. I noticed in a moment that we weregoing at a rate of speed rather exceptional for a cab, and it steadilyincreased, as the driver found a clear road before him. My companionthrew up the trap in the roof of the cab as we swung around intoThirteenth Street. 

"All right, Sam?" he called. 

The driver grinned down at us through the hole. 

"All right, sir, " he answered. "They couldn't stand the pace a littlebit. They're distanced. "

The trap snapped down again, we turned into Sixth Avenue, and stoppedin a moment before the Studio--gray and forbidding without, but adream within. My companion led the way upstairs to a private room, where a table stood ready set for us. The oysters appeared before wewere fairly seated. 

"You see, " he smiled, "I made bold to believe that you'd come with me, and so had the dinner already ordered. "

I looked at him without replying. I was completely in the dark. Couldthis be the writer of the mysterious note? But what could his objectbe? Above all, why should he so expose himself? He smiled again, as hecaught my glance. 

"Of course you're puzzled, " he said. "Well, I'll make a clean breastof the matter at once. I wanted to talk with you about this Holladaycase, and I decided that a dinner at the Studio would be just theticket. "

I nodded. The soup was a thing to marvel at. 

"You were right, " I assented. "The idea was a stroke of genius. "

"I knew you'd think so. You see, since this morning, I've been makingrather a study of you. That coup of yours at the coroner's court thisafternoon was admirable--one of the best things I ever saw. "

I bowed my acknowledgments. 

"You were there, then?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes; I couldn't afford to miss it. "

"The color-blind theory was a simple one. "

"So simple that it never occurred to anyone else. I think we're tooapt to overlook the simple explanations, which are, after all, nearlyalways the true ones. It's only in books that we meet the reverse. Youremember it's Gaboriau who advises one always to distrust theprobable?"

"Yes. I don't agree with him. "

"Nor I. Now take this case, for instance. I think it's safe to statethat murder, where it's not the result of sudden passion, is alwayscommitted for one of two objects--revenge or gain. But Mr. Holladay'spast life has been pretty thoroughly probed by the reporters, andnothing has been found to indicate that he had ever made a deadlyenemy, at least among the class of people who resort to murder--sothat does away with revenge. On the other hand, no one will gain byhis death--many will lose by it--in fact, the whole circle of hisassociates will lose by it. It might seem, at first glance, that hisdaughter would gain; but I think she loses most of all. She alreadyhad all the money she could possibly need; and she's lost her father, whom, it's quite certain, she loved dearly. So what remains?"

"Only one thing, " I said, deeply interested in this exposition. "Sudden passion. "

He nodded exultantly. 

"That's it. Now, who was the woman? From the first I was certain itcould not be his daughter--the very thought was preposterous. It seemsalmost equally absurd, however, to suppose that Holladay could bemixed up with any other woman. He certainly has not been for the lastquarter of a century--but before that--well, it's not so certain. Andthere's one striking point which seems to indicate his guilt. "

"Yes--you mean, of course, her resemblance to his daughter. "

"Precisely. Such a resemblance must exist--a resemblance unusual, evenstriking--or it would not for a moment have deceived Rogers. We mustremember, however, that Rogers's office was not brilliantly lighted, and that he merely glanced at her. Still, whatever minor differencesthere may have been, she had the air, the general appearance, the lookof Miss Holladay. Mere facial resemblance may happen in a hundredways, by chance; but the air, the look, the 'altogether' is verydifferent--it indicates a blood relationship. My theory is that she isan illegitimate child, perhaps four or five years older than MissHolladay. "

I paused to consider. The theory was reasonable, and yet it had itsfaults. 

"Now, let's see where this leads us, " he continued. "Let us assumethat Holladay has been providing for this illegitimate daughter foryears. At last, for some reason, he is induced to withdraw thissupport; or, perhaps, the girl thinks her allowance insufficient. Atany rate, after, let us suppose, ineffectual appeals by letter, shedoes the desperate thing of calling at his office to protest inperson. She finds him inexorable--we know his reputation for obstinacywhen he had once made up his mind. She reproaches him--she is alreadydesperate, remember--and he answers with that stinging sarcasm forwhich he was noted. In an ecstacy of anger, she snatches up the knifeand stabs him; then, in an agony of remorse, endeavors to check theblood. She sees at last that it is useless, that she cannot save him, and leaves the office. All this is plausible, isn't it?"

"Very plausible, " I assented, looking at him in some astonishment. "You forget one thing, however. Rogers testified that he wasintimately acquainted with the affairs of his employer, and that hewould inevitably have known of any intrigue such as you suggest. "

My companion paused for a moment's thought. 

"I don't believe that Rogers would so inevitably have known of it, " hesaid, at last. "But, admit that--then there is another theory. Holladay has _not_ been supporting his illegitimate child, who learnsof her parentage, and goes to him to demand her rights. That fits thecase, doesn't it?"

"Yes, " I admitted. "It, also, is plausible. "

"It is more than plausible, " he said quietly. "Whatever the detailsmay be, the body of the theory itself is unimpeachable--it's the onlyone which fits the facts. I believe it capable of proof. Don't you seehow the note helps to prove it?"

"The note?"

I started at the word, and my suspicions sprang into life again. Ilooked at him quickly, but his eyes were on the cloth, and he wasrolling up innumerable little pellets of bread. 

"That note, " he added, "proved two things. One was that the writer wasdeeply interested in Miss Holladay's welfare; the other was that he orshe knew Rogers, the clerk, intimately--more than intimately--almostas well as a physician knows an old patient. "

"I admit the first, " I said. "You'll have to explain the second. "

"The second is self-evident. How did the writer of the note know ofRogers's infirmity?"

"His infirmity?"

"Certainly--his color-blindness. I confess, I'm puzzled. How _could_anyone else know it when Rogers himself didn't know it? That's what Ishould like to have explained. Perhaps there's only one man or womanin the world who could know--well, that's the one who wrote the note. Now, who is it?"

"But, " I began, quickly, then stopped; should I set him right? Or wasthis a trap he had prepared for me?

His eyes were not on the cloth now, but on me. There was a light inthem I did not quite understand. I felt that I must be sure of myground before I went forward. 

"It should be very easy to trace the writer of the note, " I said. 

"The police have not found it so. "

"No?"

"No. It was given to the door-keeper by a boy--just an ordinary boy offrom twelve to fourteen years--the man didn't notice him especially. He said there was no answer and went away. How are the police to findthat boy? Suppose they do find him? Probably all he could tell themwould be that a man stopped him at the corner and gave him a quarterto take the note to the coroner's office. "

"He might give a description of the man, " I ventured. 

"What would a boy's description be worth? It would be, at the best, vague and indefinite. Besides, they've not even found the boy. Now, toreturn to the note. "

We had come to the coffee and cigars, and I felt it time to protest. 

"Before we return to the note, Mr. Godfrey, " I said, "I'd like to askyou two direct questions. What interest have you in the matter?"

"The interest of every investigator of crime, " he answered, smiling. 

"You belong to the detective force, then?"

"I have belonged to it. At present, I'm in other employ. "

"And what was your object in bringing me here this evening?"

"One portion of my object has been accomplished. The other was to askyou to write out for me a copy of the note. "

"But who was it pursued us up Broadway?"

"Oh, I have rivals!" he chuckled. "I flatter myself that was ratherneatly done. Will you give me a copy of the note, Mr. Lester?"

"No, " I answered squarely. "You'll have to go to the police for that. I'm out of the case. "

He bowed across the table to me with a little laugh. As I looked athim, his imperturbable good humor touched me. 

"I'll tell you one thing, though, " I added. "The writer of the noteknew nothing of Rogers's color-blindness--you're off the scent there. "

"I am?" he asked amazedly. "Then how did _you_ know it, Mr. Lester?"

"I suppose you detectives would call it deduction--I deduced it. "

He took a contemplative puff or two, as he looked at me. 

"Well, " he exclaimed, at last, "I must say that beats me! Deduced it!That was mighty clever. "

Again I bowed my acknowledgments. 

"And that's all you can tell me?" he added. 

"I'm afraid that's all. "

"Very well; thank you for that much, " and he flicked the ashes fromhis cigar. "Now, I fear that I must leave you. I've a good deal ofwork to do, and you've opened up a very interesting line ofspeculation. I assure you that I've passed a very pleasant evening. Ihope you've not found it tiresome?"

"Quite the contrary, " I said heartily. "I've enjoyed myselfimmensely. "

"Then I'll ask one last favor. My cab is at the door. I've no furtheruse for it, and I beg you'll drive home in it. "

I saw that he really wished it. 

"Why, yes, certainly, " I assented. 

"Thank you, " he said. 

He took me down to the door, called the cab, and shook hands with mewarmly. 

"Good-by, Mr. Lester, " he said. "I'm glad of the chance to have metyou. I'm not really such a mysterious individual--it's merely a trickof the trade. I hope we'll meet again some time. "

"So do I, " I said, and meant it. 

I saw him stand for a moment on the curb looking after us as we droveaway, then he turned and ran rapidly up the steps of the Elevated. 

The driver seemed in no hurry to get me home, and I had plenty of timeto think over the events of the evening, but I could make nothing ofthem. What result he had achieved I could not imagine. And yet he hadseemed satisfied. As to his theory, I could not but admit that it wasan adroit one; even a masterly one--a better one, certainly, than Ishould have evolved unaided. 

The cab drew up at my lodging and I sprang out, tipped the driver, andran up the steps to the door. My landlady met me on the threshold. 

"Oh, Mr. Lester!" she cried. "Such a time as I've had this night!Every five minutes there's been somebody here looking for you, andthere's a crowd of them up in your room now. I tried to put them out, but they wouldn't go!"

CHAPTER VI

Godfrey's Panegyric

I was quite dazed for the moment. 

"A crowd of them in my room!" I repeated. "A crowd of whom, Mrs. Fitch?"

"A crowd of reporters! They've been worrying my life out. They seemedto think I had you hid somewhere. I hope you're not in trouble, Mr. Lester?"

"Not the least in the world, my dear madam, " I laughed, and I breatheda long sigh of relief, for I had feared I know not what disaster. "I'll soon finish with the reporters, " and I went on up the stair. 

Long before I reached my rooms, I heard the clatter of voices andcaught the odor of various qualities of tobacco. They were lollingabout over the furniture, telling stories, I suppose, and they greetedme with a cheer when I entered. They were such jovial fellows that itwas quite impossible to feel angry with them--and besides, I knew thatthey were gentlemen, that they labored early and late at meagersalaries, for the pure love of the work; that they were quick to scentfraud or trickery or unworthiness, and inexorable in exposing them;that they loved to do good anonymously, remaining utterly unknown saveto the appreciative few behind the scenes. So I returned theirgreeting smilingly, and sat me down in a chair which one of themobligingly vacated for me. 

"Well?" I began, looking about at them. 

"My dear Mr. Lester, " said the one who had given me the chair, "permitme to introduce myself as Rankin, of the _Planet_. These gentlemen, "and he included them in a wide gesture, "are my colleagues of thepress. We've been anxiously awaiting you here in order that we maypropound to you certain questions. "

"All right; fire away, " I said. 

"First, we'd like to have your theory of the crime. Your work thisafternoon convinced us that you know how to put two and two together, which is more than can be said for the ordinary mortal. The publicwill want to know your theory--the great public. "

"Oh, but I haven't any theory, " I protested. "Besides, I don't thinkthe great public is especially interested in me. You see, gentlemen, I'm quite out of the case. When we cleared Miss Holladay, ourconnection with it ended. "

"But is Miss Holladay cleared?" he persisted. "Is it not quiteconceivable that in those two hours she was absent from her carriage, she may have changed her gown, gone to her father's office, and thenchanged back again? In that case, would she not naturally have chosena green gown, since she never wore green?"

"Oh, nonsense!" I cried. "That's puerile. Either she would disguiseherself effectually or not at all. I suppose if you were going tocommit a capital crime, you would merely put on a high hat, becauseyou never wear one! I'll tell you this much: I'm morally certain thatMiss Holladay is quite innocent. So, I believe, is the districtattorney. "

"But how about the note, Mr. Lester? What did it contain?"

"Oh, I can't tell you that, you know. It's none of my business. "

"But you ought to treat us all alike, " he protested. 

"I do treat you all alike. "

"But didn't Godfrey get it out of you?"

"Godfrey?" I repeated. "Get it out of me?"

He stared at me in astonishment. 

"Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Lester, " he questioned, "that you haven'tbeen spending the evening with Jim Godfrey, of the _Record_?"

Then, in a flash, I understood, and as I looked at the rueful facesof the men gathered about me, I laughed until the tears came. 

"So it was you, " I gasped, "who chased us up Broadway?"

He nodded. 

"Yes; but our horses weren't good enough. Where did he take you?"

"To the Studio--Sixth Avenue. "

"Of course!" he cried, slapping his leg. "We might have known. Boys, we'd better go back to Podunk. "

"Well, at least, Mr. Lester, " spoke up another, "you oughtn't to giveGodfrey a scoop. "

"But I didn't give him a scoop. I didn't even know who he was. "

"Didn't you tell him what was in the note?"

"Not a word of it--I told him only one thing. "

"And what was that?"

"That the person who wrote the note didn't know that Rogers wascolor-blind. You are welcome to that statement, too. You see, I'mtreating you all alike. "

They stood about me, staring down at me, silent with astonishment. 

"But, " I added, "I think Godfrey suspects what was in the note. "

"Why?"

"Well, his theory fits it pretty closely. "

"His theory! What is his theory, Mr. Lester?"

"Oh, come, " I laughed. "That's telling. It's a good theory, too. "

They looked at each other, and, I fancied, gnashed their teeth. 

"He seems a pretty clever fellow, " I added, just to pile up the agony. "I fancy you'll say so, too, when you see his theory in to-morrow'spaper. "

"Clever!" cried Rankin. "Why, he's a very fiend of cleverness when itcomes to a case of this kind. We're not in the same class with him. He's a fancy fellow--just the _Record_ kind. You're sure you didn'ttell him anything else, Mr. Lester?" he added anxiously. "Godfrey'scapable of getting a story out of a fence-post. "

"No, I'm quite sure I didn't tell him anything else. I only listenedto his theory with great interest. "

"And assented to it?"

"I said I thought it plausible. "

An electric shock seemed to run around the room. 

"That's it!" cried Rankin. "That's what he wanted. Now, it isn't histheory any more. It's yours. Oh, I can see his headlines! Won't youtell us what it was?"

I looked up at him. 

"Now, frankly, Mr. Rankin, " I asked, "if you were in my place, wouldyou tell?"

He hesitated for a moment, and then held out his hand. 

"No, " he said, as I took it. "I shouldn't. Shake hands, sir; you'reall right. Come on, boys, we might as well be going. "

They filed out after him, and I heard them go singing up the street. Then I sank back into my chair and thought again of Godfrey's theory;it seemed to fit the case precisely, point by point--even--and Istarted at the thought--to Miss Holladay's reticence as to herwhereabouts the afternoon before. The whole mystery lay plain beforeme. In some way, she had discovered the existence of her half-sister, had secured her address; she had gone to visit her and had found heraway from home--it was probable, even, that the half-sister hadwritten her, asking her to come--though, in that case, why had she notremained at home to receive her? At any rate, Miss Holladay hadawaited her return, had noticed her agitation; had, perhaps, even seencertain marks of blood upon her. The news of her father's death hadpointed all too clearly to what that agitation and those blood-spotsmeant. She had remained silent that she might not besmirch herfather's name, and also, perhaps, that she might protect the otherwoman. I felt that I held in my hand the key to the whole problem. 

Point by point--but what a snarl it was! That there would be avigorous search for the other woman I could not doubt, but she had along start and should easily escape. Yet, perhaps, she had notstarted--she must have remained in town, else how could that note havebeen sent to us? She had remained, then--but why? That she should feelany affection for Frances Holladay seemed absurd, and yet, how elseexplain the note?

I felt that I was getting tangled up in the snarl again--there seemedno limit to its intricacies; so, in very despair, I put the matterfrom me as completely as I could and went to bed. 

 * * * * *

The morning's _Record_ attested the truth of Rankin's prophecy. I hadgrown famous in a night: for Godfrey had, in a measure, made meresponsible for his theory, describing me with a wealth of adjectiveswhich I blush to remember, and which I have, even yet, not quiteforgiven him. I smiled as I read the first lines:

 A _Record_ representative had the pleasure, yesterday evening, of dining with Mr. Warwick Lester, the brilliant young attorney who achieved such a remarkable victory before Coroner Goldberg yesterday afternoon, in the hearing of the Holladay case, and, of course, took occasion to discuss with him the latest developments of this extraordinary crime. Mr. Lester agreed with the _Record_ in a theory which is the only one that fits the facts of the case, and completely and satisfactorily explains all its ramifications. 

The theory was then developed at great length and the articleconcluded with the statement that the _Record_ was assisting thepolice in a strenuous endeavor to find the guilty woman. 

Now that the police knew in which quarter to spread their net, I hadlittle doubt that she would soon be found, since she had temptedprovidence by remaining in town. 

Mr. Graham and Mr. Royce were looking through the _Record_ articlewhen I reached the office, and I explained to them how the allegedinterview had been secured. They laughed together in appreciation ofGodfrey's audacious enterprise. 

"It seems a pretty strong theory, " said our senior. "I'm inclined tobelieve it myself. "

I pointed out how it explained Miss Holladay's reticence--her refusalto assist us in proving an alibi. Mr. Royce nodded. 

"Precisely. As Godfrey said, the theory touches every point of thecase. According to the old police axiom, that proves it's the rightone. "

CHAPTER VII

Miss Holladay Becomes Capricious

The body of Hiram Holladay was placed beside that of his wife in hisgranite mausoleum at Woodlawn on the Sunday following his death; twodays later, his will, which had been drawn up by Mr. Graham anddeposited in the office safe, was read and duly admitted to probate. As was expected, he had left all his property, without condition orreserve, to his daughter Frances. There were a few bequests to oldservants, Rogers receiving a handsome legacy; about half a million wasgiven to various charities in which he had been interested during hislife, and the remainder was placed at the absolute disposal of hisdaughter. 

We found that his fortune had been over-estimated, as is usually thecase with men whose wealth depends upon the fluctuations of theStreet, but there still remained something over four millions for thegirl--a pretty dowry. She told us at once that she wished to leave heraffairs in our hands, and in financial matters would be guidedentirely by our advice. Most of this business was conducted by ourjunior, and while, of course, he told me nothing, it was evident thatMiss Holladay's kindly feelings toward him had suffered no diminution. The whole office was more or less conversant with the affair, andwished him success and happiness. 

So a week or ten days passed. The utmost endeavor of newspapers andpolice had shed no new light on the tragedy, and for the great publicit had passed into the background of the forgotten. But for me, atleast, it remained of undiminished interest, and more than once Icarefully reviewed its features to convince myself anew that ourtheory was the right one. Only one point occurred to me which wouldtend to prove it untrue. If there was an illegitimate daughter, theblow she had dealt her father had also deprived her of whatever incomehe had allowed her, or of any hope of income from him. So she hadacted in her own despite--still, Godfrey's theory of sudden passionmight explain this away. And then, again, Miss Holladay could probablybe counted upon, her first grief past, to provide suitably for hersister. Granting this, the theory seemed to me quite impregnable. 

One other thing puzzled me. How had this woman eluded the police? Iknew that the French quarter had been ransacked for traces of her, wholly without success, and yet I felt that the search must have beenmisconducted, else some trace of her would surely have beendiscovered. Miss Holladay, of course, rigidly refused herself to allinquirers, and here, again, I found myself on the horns of a dilemma. Doubtless, she was very far from wishing the discovery of the guiltywoman, and yet I felt that she must be discovered, if only for MissHolladay's sake, in order to clear away the last vestige of the cloudthat shadowed her. 

Then came new developments with a startling rapidity. It was towardquitting time one afternoon that a clerk brought word into the inneroffice that there was a woman without who wished to see Mr. Royce atonce. She had given no name, but our junior, who happened to be atleisure for the moment, directed that she be shown in. I recognizedher in an instant, and so did he--it was Miss Holladay's maid. I saw, too, that her eyes were red with weeping, and as she sat down besideour junior's desk she began to cry afresh. 

"Why, what's the matter?" he demanded. "Nothing wrong with yourmistress?"

"She aint my mistress any more, " sobbed the girl. "She discharged methis afternoon. "

"Discharged you!" echoed our junior. "Why, I thought she thought somuch of you?"

"And so did I, sir, but she discharged me just the same. "

"But what for?" persisted the other. 

"That's just what I don't know, sir; I begged and prayed her to tellme, but she wouldn't even see me. So I came down here. I thought maybeyou could help me. "

"Well, let me hear about it just as it happened, " said Mr. Roycesoothingly. "Perhaps I _can_ help you. "

"Oh, if you could, sir!" she cried. "You know, I thought the world andall of Miss Frances. I've been with her nearly eight years, and forher to go and treat me like this--why, it just breaks my heart, sir! Idressed her this afternoon about two o'clock, and she was as nice tome as ever--gave me a little brooch, sir, that she was tired of. Thenshe went out for a drive, and about an hour ago came back. I wentright up to her room to undress her, and when I knocked, sir, astrange woman came to the door and said that Miss Frances had engagedher for her maid and wouldn't need me any more, and here was a month'swages. And while I stood there, sir, too dazed to move, she shut thedoor in my face. After I'd got over it a bit, I begged that I mightsee Miss Frances, if only to say good-by; but she wouldn't see me. Shesent word that she wasn't feeling well, and wouldn't be disturbed. "

Her sobs mastered her again and she stopped. I could see the look ofamazement on our junior's face, and did not wonder at it. What suddendislike could her mistress have conceived against this inoffensive anddevoted creature?

"You say this other maid was a stranger?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir; she'd never been in the house before, so far as I know. Miss Frances brought her back with her in the carriage. "

"And what sort of looking woman is she?"

The girl hesitated. 

"She looked like a foreigner, sir, " she said at last. "A Frenchwoman, maybe, by the way she rolls her r's. "

I pricked up my ears. The same thought occurred at that instant toboth Mr. Royce and myself. 

"Does she resemble Miss Holladay?" he asked quickly. 

"Miss Holladay? Oh, no, sir. She's much older--her hair's quite gray. "

Well, certainly, Miss Holladay had the right to choose any maid shepleased, and to discharge any or all of her servants; and yet itseemed strangely unlike her to show such seeming injustice to anyone. 

"You say she sent down word that she was ill?" said Mr. Royce, atlast. "Was she ill when you dressed her?"

"Why, sir, " she answered slowly, "I wouldn't exactly say she was ill, but she seemed troubled about something. I think she'd been crying. She's been crying a good deal, off and on, since her father died, poorthing, " she added. 

That would explain it, certainly; and yet grief for her father mightnot be the only cause of Frances Holladay's tears. 

"But she didn't seem vexed with you?"

"Oh, no, sir; she gave me a brooch, as I told you. "

"I fear I can't promise you anything, " said Mr. Royce slowly, after amoment's thought. "Of course, it's none of my business: for MissHolladay must arrange her household to suit herself; yet, if you don'tget back with your old mistress, I may, perhaps, be able to find you aposition somewhere else. Suppose you come back in three or four days, and I'll see what I can do. "

"All right, sir; and thank you, " she said, and left the office. 

I had some work of my own to keep me busy that night, so devoted nothought to Frances Holladay and her affairs, but they were recalled tome with renewed force next morning. 

"Did you get Miss Holladay's signature to that conveyance?" Mr. Grahamchanced to ask his partner in the course of the morning. 

"No, sir, " answered Mr. Royce, with just a trace of embarrassment. "Icalled at the house last night, but she sent down word that she wastoo ill to see me or to transact any business. "

"Nothing serious, I hope?" asked the other quickly. 

"No, sir; I think not. Just a trace of nervousness probably. "

But when he called again at the house that evening, he received asimilar message, supplemented with the news imparted by the butler, aservant of many years' standing in the family, that Miss Holladay hadsuddenly decided to leave the city and open her country place on LongIsland. It was only the end of March, and so a full two months andmore ahead of the season; but she was feeling very ill, was not ableto leave her room, indeed, and believed the fresh air and quiet of thecountry would do more than anything else to restore her shatterednerves. So the whole household, with the exception of her maid, acook, house-girl, and under-butler, were to leave the city next day inorder to get the country house ready at once. 

"I don't wonder she needs a little toning up, " remarked our chiefsympathetically. "She has gone through a nerve-trying ordeal, especially for a girl reared as she has been. Two or three months ofquiet will do her good. When does she expect to leave?"

"In about a week, I think. The time hasn't been definitely set. Itwill depend upon how the arrangements go forward. It won't benecessary, will it, to bother her with any details of business? Thatconveyance, for instance----"

"Can wait till she gets back. No, we won't bother her at all. "

But it seemed that she had either improved or changed her mind, fortwo days later a note, which her maid had written for her, came to Mr. Graham, asking him to call upon her in the course of the nexttwenty-four hours, as she wished to talk over some matters of businesswith him. It struck me as singular that she should ask for Mr. Graham, but our senior called a cab, and started off at once without comment. An hour later, the door opened, and he entered the office with a mostpeculiar expression of countenance. 

"Well, that beats me!" he exclaimed, as he dropped into his chair. 

Our junior wheeled around toward him without speaking, but his anxietywas plain enough. 

"To think that a girl as level-headed as Frances Holladay has alwaysbeen, should suddenly develop such whimsicalities. Yet, I couldn't butadmire her grasp of things. Here have I been thinking she didn't knowanything about her business and didn't care, but she seems to havekept her eyes open. "

"Well?" asked Mr. Royce, as the other paused. 

"Well, she started out by reminding me that her property had been leftto her absolutely, to do as she pleased with; a point which I, ofcourse, conceded. She then went on to say that she knew of a number ofbequests her father had intended to make before his death, and whichhe would have made if he had not been cut off so suddenly; that thebequests were of such a nature that he did not wish his name to appearin them, and that she was going to undertake to carry them outanonymously. "

"Well?" asked our junior again. 

"Well, " said Mr. Graham slowly, "she asked me to dispose at once ofsuch of her securities as I thought best, in order that I might placein her hands by to-morrow night one hundred thousand dollars incash--a cool hundred thousand!"

CHAPTER VIII

The Mysterious Maid

"A hundred thousand dollars!" ejaculated Mr. Royce, and sat staring athis chief. 

"A hundred thousand dollars! That's a good deal for a girl to giveaway in a lump, but she can afford it. Of course, we've nothing to dobut carry out her instructions. I think both of us can guess what sheintends doing with the money. "

The other nodded. I believed that I could guess, too. The money, ofcourse, was intended for the other woman--she was not to suffer forher crime, after all. Miss Holladay seemed to me in no little dangerof becoming an accessory after the fact. 

"She seems really ill, " continued our senior. "She looks thinner andquite careworn. I commended her resolution to seek rest and quiet andchange of scene. "

"When does she go, sir?" asked Mr. Royce, in a subdued voice. 

"The day after to-morrow, I think. She did not say definitely. Infact, she could talk very little. She's managed to catch cold--thegrip, I suppose--and was very hoarse. It would have been cruelty tomake her talk, and I didn't try. "

He wheeled around to his desk, and then suddenly back again. 

"By the way, " he said, "I saw the new maid. I can't say I whollyapprove of her. "

He paused a minute, weighing his words. 

"She seems careful and devoted, " he went on, at last, "but I don'tlike her eyes. They're too intense. I caught her two or three timeswatching me strangely. I can't imagine where Miss Holladay picked herup, or why she should have picked her up at all. She's French, ofcourse--she speaks with a decided accent. About the money, I supposewe'd better sell a block of U. P. Bonds. They're the least productiveof her securities. "

"Yes, I suppose so, " agreed Mr. Royce, and the chief called up abroker and gave the necessary orders. Then he turned to other work, and the day passed without any further reference to Miss Holladay orher affairs. 

The proceeds of the sale were brought to the office early the nextafternoon, a small packet neatly sealed and docketed--one hundredthousand-dollar bills. Mr. Graham turned it over in his handthoughtfully. 

"You'll take it to the house, of course, John, " he said to hispartner. "Lester 'd better go with you. "

So Mr. Royce placed the package in his pocket, a cab was summoned, andwe were off. The trip was made without incident, and at the end ofhalf an hour we drew up before the Holladay mansion. 

It was one of the old-styled brownstone fronts which lined both sidesof the avenue twenty years ago; it was no longer in theultra-fashionable quarter, which had moved up toward Central Park, andshops of various kinds were beginning to encroach upon theneighborhood; but it had been Hiram Holladay's home for forty years, and he had never been willing to part with it. At this moment all theblinds were down and the house had a deserted look. We mounted thesteps to the door, which was opened at once to our ring by a womanwhom I knew instinctively to be the new maid, though she looked muchless like a maid than like an elderly working-woman of the middleclass. 

"We've brought the money Miss Holladay asked Mr. Graham foryesterday, " said Mr. Royce. "I'm John Royce, his partner, " and withoutanswering the woman motioned us in. "Of course we must have a receiptfor it, " he added. "I have it ready here, and she need only attach hersignature. "

"Miss Holladay is too ill to see you, sir, " said the maid, withcareful enunciation. "I will myself the paper take to her and get hersignature. "

Mr. Royce hesitated a moment in perplexity. As for me, I wasransacking my memory--where had I heard that voice before? Somewhere, I was certain--a voice low, vibrant, repressed, full of color. Then, with a start, I remembered! It was Miss Holladay's voice, as she hadrisen to welcome our junior that morning at the coroner's court! Ishook myself together--for that was nonsense!

"I fear that won't do, " said Mr. Royce at last. "The sum is aconsiderable one, and must be given to Miss Holladay by me personallyin the presence of this witness. "

It was the maid's turn to hesitate; I saw her lips tighten ominously. 

"Very well, sir, " she said. "But I warn you, she is most nervous andit has been forbidden her to talk. "

"She will not be called upon to talk, " retorted Mr. Royce curtly; andwithout answering, the woman turned and led the way up the stair andto her mistress's room. 

Miss Holladay was lying back in a great chair with a bandage about herhead, and even in the half-light I could see how changed she was. Sheseemed much thinner and older, and coughed occasionally in a way thatfrightened me. Not grief alone, I told myself, could have caused thisbreakdown; it was the secret weighing upon her. My companion noted thechange, too, of course--a greater change, perhaps, than my eyes couldperceive--and I saw how moved and shocked he was. 

"My dear Miss Holladay, " he began, but she stopped him abruptly with alittle imperative motion of the hand. 

"Pray do not, " she whispered hoarsely. "Pray do not. "

He stopped and pulled himself together. When he spoke again, it was inquite a different tone. 

"I have brought the money you asked for, " and he handed her thepackage. 

"Thank you, " she murmured. 

"Will you verify the amount?"

"Oh, no; that is not necessary. "

"I have a receipt here, " and he produced it and his fountain-pen. "Please sign it. "

She took the pen with trembling fingers, laid the receipt upon herchair-arm without reading, and signed her name with a somewhat painfulslowness. Then she leaned back with a sigh of relief, and buried herface in her hands. Mr. Royce placed the receipt in his pocket book, and stopped, hesitating. But the maid had opened the door and wasawaiting us. Her mistress made no sign; there was no excuse to linger. We turned and followed the maid. 

"Miss Holladay seems very ill, " said Mr. Royce, in a voice somewhattremulous, as she paused before us in the lower hall. 

"Yes, sir; ver' ill. "

Again the voice! I took advantage of the chance to look at herintently. Her hair was turning gray, certainly; her face was seamedwith lines which only care and poverty could have graven there; andyet, beneath it all, I fancied I could detect a faded but livinglikeness to Hiram Holladay's daughter. I looked again--it was faint, uncertain--perhaps my nerves were overwrought and were deceiving me. For how could such a likeness possibly exist?

"She has a physician, of course?" asked my companion. 

"Oh, yes, sir. "

"He has advised rest and quiet?"

"Yes, sir. "

"When do you leave for the country?"

"To-morrow or the next day after that, I think, sir. "

He turned to the door and then paused, hesitating. He opened his lipsto say something more--his anxiety was clamoring for utterance--thenhe changed his mind and stepped outside as she held the door open. 

"Good-day, " he said, with stern repression. "I wish her a pleasantjourney. "

The door closed after us, and we went down the steps. 

"Jenkinson's the family doctor, " he said. "Let's drive around there, and find out how really ill Miss Holladay is. I'm worried about her, Lester. "

"That's a good idea, " I agreed, and gave the driver the address. Jenkinson was in his office, and received us at once. 

"Doctor Jenkinson, " began our junior, without preamble, "I am JohnRoyce, of Graham & Royce. You know, I suppose, that we are the legaladvisers of Miss Frances Holladay. "

"Yes, " answered Jenkinson. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Royce. "

"In consequence, we're naturally interested in her welfare and allthat concerns her, and I called to ask you for some definite detailsof her condition. "

"Her condition? I don't quite understand. "

"We should like to know, doctor, just how ill she is. "

"Ill!" repeated Jenkinson, in evident surprise. "But is she ill?"

"She's your patient, isn't she? I thought you were the family doctor. "

"So I am, " assented the other. "But I haven't seen Miss Holladay forten days or two weeks. At that time, she seemed quite well--a littlenervous, perhaps, and worried, but certainly not requiring medicalattention. She has always been unusually robust. "

Mr. Royce stopped, perplexed; as for me, my head was in a whirl again. 

"I'll tell you the story, " he said at last. "I should like the benefitof your advice;" and he recounted rapidly the facts of Miss Holladay'sillness, in so far as he knew them, ending with an account of ourrecent visit, and the statement of the maid that her mistress wasunder a doctor's care. Jenkinson heard him to the end withoutinterrupting, but he was plainly puzzled and annoyed. 

"And you say she looked very ill?" he asked. 

"Oh, very ill, sir; alarmingly ill, to my unpracticed eyes. She seemedthin and worn--she could scarcely talk--she had such a cough--I hardlyknew her. "

Again the doctor paused to consider. He was a very famous doctor, withmany very famous patients, and I could see that this case piquedhim--that another physician should have been preferred!

"Of course, Mr. Royce, " he said finally, "Miss Holladay was perfectlyfree to choose another physician, if she thought best. "

"But would you have thought it probable?" queried our junior. 

"Ten minutes ago, I should have thought it extremely improbable, "answered the doctor emphatically. "Still, women are sometimeserratic, as we doctors know to our sorrow. "

Mr. Royce hesitated, and then took the bull by the horns. 

"Doctor Jenkinson, " he began earnestly, "don't you think it would bewise to see Miss Holladay--you know how her father trusted you, andrelied on you--and assure yourself that she's in good hands? Iconfess, I don't know what to think, but I fear some danger is hangingover her. Perhaps she may even have fallen into the hands of thefaith-curists. "

Jenkinson smiled. 

"The advice to seek rest and quiet seems sane enough, " he said, "andutterly unlike any that a faith-curist would give. "

"But still, if you could see for yourself, " persisted Mr. Royce. 

The doctor hesitated, drumming with his fingers upon the arm of hischair. 

"Such a course would be somewhat unprofessional, " he said at last. "Still, I might call in a merely social way. My interest in the familywould, I think, excuse me. "

Mr. Royce's face brightened, and he caught the doctor's hand. 

"Thank you, sir, " he said warmly. "It will lift a great anxiety fromthe firm, and, I may add, from me, personally. "

The doctor laughed good-naturedly. 

"I knew that, of course, " he said. "We doctors hear all the gossipgoing. I might add that I was glad to hear this bit. If you'll waitfor me here, I'll go at once. "

We instantly assented, and he called his carriage, and was drivenaway. I felt that, at last, we were to see behind one corner of thecurtain--perhaps one glimpse would be enough to penetrate the mystery. But, in half an hour he was back again, and a glance at his face toldme that we were again destined to disappointment. 

"I sent up my card, " he reported briefly, "and Miss Holladay sentdown word that she must beg to be excused. "

Mr. Royce's face fell. 

"And that was all?" he asked. 

"That was all. Of course, there was nothing for me to do but comeaway. I couldn't insist on seeing her. "

"No, " assented the other. "No. How do you explain it, doctor?"

Jenkinson sat down, and for a moment studied the pattern of thecarpet. 

"Frankly, Mr. Royce, " he said at last, "I don't know how to explainit. The most probable explanation is that Miss Holladay is sufferingfrom some form of dementia--perhaps only acute primary dementia, whichis usually merely temporary--but which may easily grow serious, andeven become permanent. "

The theory had occurred to me, and I saw from the expression of Mr. Royce's face that he, also, had thought of it. 

"Is there no way that we can make sure?" he asked. "She may need tobe saved from herself. "

"She may need it very badly, " agreed the doctor, nodding. "Yet, she isof legal age, and absolute mistress of her actions. There are norelatives to interfere--no intimate friends, even, that I know of. Isee no way unless you, as her legal adviser, apply to the authoritiesfor an inquest of lunacy. "

But Mr. Royce made an instant gesture of repugnance. 

"Oh, that's absurd!" he cried. "We have no possible reason to takesuch action. It would offend her mortally. "

"No doubt, " assented the other. "So I fear that at present nothing canbe done--things will just have to take their course till somethingmore decided happens. "

"There's no tendency to mental disease in the family?" inquired Mr. Royce, after a moment. 

"Not the slightest, " said the doctor emphatically. "Her father andmother were both sound and well-balanced. I know the history of thefamily through three generations, and there's no hint of any taint. Twenty-five years ago Holladay, who was then just working to the topin Wall Street, drove himself too hard--it was when the market wentall to pieces over that Central Pacific deal--and had a touch ofapoplexia. It was just a touch, but I made him take a long vacation, which he spent abroad with his wife. It was then, by the way, that hisdaughter was born. Since then he has been careful, and has never beenbothered with a recurrence of the trouble. In fact, that's the onlyillness in the least serious I ever knew him to have. "

There was nothing more to be said, and we turned to go. 

"If there are any further developments, " added the doctor, as heopened the door, "will you let me know? You may count upon me, if Ican be of any assistance. "

"Certainly, " answered our junior. "You're very kind, sir, " and we wentback to our cab. 

The week that followed was a perplexing one for me, and a miserableone for Royce. As I know now, he had written her half a dozen times, and had received not a single word of answer. For myself, I haddiscovered one more development of the mystery. On the day followingthe delivery of the money, I had glanced, as usual, through thefinancial column of the _Sun_ as I rode home on the car, and one itemhad attracted my attention. The brokerage firm of Swift & Currer hadthat day presented at the sub-treasury the sum of one hundred thousanddollars in currency for conversion into gold. An inquiry at theiroffice next morning elicited the fact that the exchange had beeneffected for the account of Miss Frances Holladay. It was done, ofcourse, that the recipient of the money might remain beyond trace ofthe police. 

CHAPTER IX

I Meet Monsieur Martigny

Our regular work at the office just at that time happened to beunusually heavy and trying. The Brown injunction suit, while notgreatly attracting public attention, involved points of such nicetyand affected interests so widespread, that the whole bar of New Yorkwas watching it. The Hurd substitution case was more spectacular, andappealed to the press with peculiar force, since one of the principalvictims had been the eldest son of Preston McLandberg, the veteranmanaging editor of the _Record_, and the bringing of the suit impugnedthe honor of his family--but it is still too fresh in the public mindto need recapitulation here, even were it connected with this story. The incessant strain told upon both our partners and even upon me, sothat I returned to my rooms after dinner one evening determined to goearly to bed. But I had scarcely donned my house-coat, settled in mychair, and got my pipe to going, when there came a tap at the door. 

"Come in, " I called, thinking it was Mrs. Fitch, my landlady, and tooweary to get up. 

But it was not Mrs. Fitch's pale countenance, with its crown of grayhair, which appeared in the doorway; it was a rotund and exceedinglyflorid visage. 

"You will pardon me, sir, " began a resonant voice, which I instantlyremembered, even before the short, square figure stepped over thethreshold into the full light, "but I have just discovered that I haveno match with which to ignite my gas. If I might from you borrowone----"

"Help yourself, " I said, and held out to him my case, which was lyingon the table at my elbow. 

"You are very good, " he said, and then, as he stepped forward and sawme more distinctly, he uttered a little exclamation of surprise. "Ah, it is Mistair----"

"Lester, " I added, seeing that he hesitated. 

"It is a great pleasure, " he was saying, as he took the matches; "agreat good fortune which brought me to this house. So lonely one growsat times--and then, I greatly desire some advice. If you would havethe leisure----"

"Certainly, " and I waved toward a chair. "Sit down. "

"In one moment, " he said. "You will pardon me, " and he disappearedthrough the doorway. 

He was back almost at once with a handful of cigarettes, which heplaced on the table. Then he drew up a chair. With a littledeprecatory gesture, he used one of my matches to light a cigarette. 

"It was truly for the gas, " he said, catching my smile; "and the gasfor the cigarette!"

There was something fascinating about the man; an air of good-humor, of comradeship, of strength, of purpose. My eyes were caught by hisstodgy, nervous hands, as he held the match to his cigarette; thenthey wandered to his face--to the black hair flecked here and therewith gray; to the bright, deep-set eyes, ambushed under heavy brows;to the full lips, which the carefully arranged mustache did not at allconceal; to the projecting chin, with its little plume of an imperial. A strong face and a not unhandsome one, with a certain look of masteryabout it----

"It is true that I need advice, " he was saying, as he slowly exhaled agreat puff of smoke which he had drawn deep into his lungs. "My nameis Martigny--Jasper Martigny"--I nodded by way of salutation--"and Iam from France, as you have doubtless long since suspected. It is mydesire to become a citizen of Amer-ric'. "

"How long have you been living in America?" I asked. 

"Since two months only. It is my intention to establish here abusiness in wines. "

"Well, " I explained, "you can take no steps toward naturalization forthree years. Then you go before a court and make a declaration of yourintentions. Two years later, you will get your papers. "

"You mean, " he hesitated, "that it takes so many years----"

"Five years' actual residence--yes. "

"But, " and he hesitated again, "I had understood that--that----"

"That it was easier? There are illegal ways, of course; but you canscarcely expect me to advise you concerning them, Mr. Martigny. "

"No; of course, no!" he cried hastily, waving his hand in disclaimer. "I did not know--it makes nothing to me--I will wait--I wish to obeythe laws. "

He picked up a fresh cigarette, lit it from the other, and tossed awaythe end. 

"Will you not try one?" he asked, seeing that my pipe was finished, and I presently found myself enjoying the best cigarette I had eversmoked. "You comprehend French--no?"

"Not well enough to enjoy it, " I said. 

"I am sorry--I believe you would like this book which I am reading, "and he pulled a somewhat tattered volume from his pocket. "I have readit, oh, ver' many times, as well as all the others--though this, ofcourse, is the masterpiece. "

He held it so that I could see the title. It was "Monsieur Lecoq. "

"I have read it in English, " I said. 

"And did you not like it--yes? I am ver' fond of stories of detection. That is why I was so absorbed in that affair of Mees--Mees--ah, I haveforgotten! Your names are so difficult for me. "

"Miss Holladay, " I said. 

"Ah, yes; and has that mystery ever arrived at a solution?"

"No, " I said. "Unfortunately, we haven't any Monsieur Lecoqs on ourdetective force. "

"Ah, no, " he smiled. "And the young lady--in her I conceived a greatinterest, even though I did not see her--how is she?"

"The shock was a little too much for her, " I said. "She's gone out toher country-place to rest. She'll soon be all right again, I hope. "

He had taken a third cigarette, and was lighting it carelessly, withhis face half-turned away from me. I noticed how flushed his neck was. 

"Oh, undoubtedly, " he agreed, after a moment; "at least, I should bemost sad to think otherwise. But it is late; I perceive that you areweary; I thank you for your kindness. "

"Not at all, " I protested. "I hope you'll come in whenever you feellonely. "

"A thousand thanks! I shall avail myself of your invitation. Myapartment is just across the hall, " he added, as I opened the door. "Itrust to see you there. "

"You shall, " I said heartily, and bade him good-night. 

In the week that followed, I saw a good deal of Martigny. I would meethim on the stairs or in the hall; he came again to see me, and Ireturned his visit two nights later, upon which occasion he producedtwo bottles of Château Yquem of a delicacy beyond all praise. And Igrew more and more to like him--he told me many stories of Paris, which, it seemed, had always been his home, with a wit to which hisslight accent and formal utterance gave new point; he displayed akindly interest in my plans which was very pleasing; he was alwaystactful, courteous, good-humored. He was plainly a boulevardier, a manof the world, with an outlook upon life a little startling in itsmateriality, but interesting in its freshness, and often amusing inits frankness. And he seemed to return my liking--certainly it was hewho sought me, not I who sought him. He was being delayed, heexplained, in establishing his business; he could not get just thequarters he desired, but in another week there would be a placevacant. He would ask me to draw up the lease. Meanwhile, time hungrather heavily on his hands. 

"Though I do not quarrel with that, " he added, sitting in my room oneevening. "It is necessary for me that I take life easily. I have aweakness of the heart, which has already given me much trouble. Besides, I have your companionship, which is most welcome, and forwhich I thank you. I trust Mees--Mees--what you call--Holladay isagain well. "

"We haven't heard from her, " I said. "She is still at her place in thecountry. "

"Oh, she is doubtless well--in her I take such an interest--you willpardon me if I weary you. "

"Weary me? But you don't!"

"Then I will make bold to ask you--have you made any--what youcall--theory of the crime?"

"No, " I answered; "that is, none beyond what was in thenewspapers--the illegitimate daughter theory. I suppose you saw it. That seems to fit the case. "

He nodded meditatively. "Yet I like to imagine how Monsieur Lecoqwould approach it. Would he believe it was a murder simply because itso appeared? Has it occurred to you that Mees Holladay truly mighthave visited her father, and that his death was not a murder at all, but an accident?"

"An accident?" I repeated. "How could it be an accident? How could aman be stabbed accidentally in the neck? Besides, even if it were anaccident, how would that explain his daughter's rushing from thebuilding without trying to save him, without giving the alarm? If itwasn't a murder, why should the woman, whoever she was, be frightened?How else can you explain her flight?"

He was looking at me thoughtfully. "All that you say is ver' true, " hesaid. "It shows that you have given to the case much thought. Ibelieve that you also have a fondness for crimes of mystery, " and hesmiled at me. "Is it not so, Mistair Lester?"

"I had never suspected it, " I laughed, "until this case came up, butthe microbe seems to have bitten me. "

"Ah, yes, " he said doubtfully, not quite understanding. 

"And I've rather fancied at times, " I admitted, "that I should like totake a hand at solving it--though, of course, I never shall. Ourconnection with the case is ended. "

He shot me a quick glance, then lighted another cigarette. 

"Suppose it were assigned to you to solve it, " he asked, "how wouldyou set about it?"

"I'd try to find the mysterious woman. "

"But the police, so I understand, attempted that and failed, " heobjected. "How could you succeed?"

"Oh, I dare say I shouldn't succeed, " I laughed, his air striking meas a little more earnest than the occasion demanded. "I shouldprobably fail, just as the police did. "

"In France, " he remarked, "it is not in the least expected that men ofthe law should----"

"Nor is it here, " I explained. "Only, of course, a lawyer can't helpit, sometimes; some cases demand more or less detective work, and areyet too delicate to be intrusted to the police. "

"It is also the fault of our police that it is too fond of thenewspapers, of posing before the public--it is a fault of humannature, is it not?"

"You speak English so well, Mr. Martigny, " I said, "that I havewondered where you learned it. "

"I was some years in England--the business of wine--and devoted myselfseriously to the study of the language. But I still find it sometimesvery difficult to understand you Americans--you speak so much morerapidly than the English, and so much less distinctly. You have a wayof running your words together, of dropping whole syllables----"

"Yes, " I smiled, "and that is the very thing we complain of in theFrench. "

"Oh, our elisions are governed by well-defined laws which each onecomprehends, while here----"

"Every man is a law unto himself. Remember, it is the land of thefree----"

"And the home of the license, is it not?" he added, unconscious ofirony. 

Yes, I decided, I was very fortunate in gaining Martigny'sacquaintance. Of course, after he opened his business, he would haveless time to devote to me; but, nevertheless, we should have manypleasant evenings together, and I looked forward to them with considerableanticipation. He was interesting in himself--entertaining, with thatlarge tolerance and good humor which I have already mentioned, andwhich was one of the most striking characteristics of the man. Andthen--shall I admit it?--I was lonely, too, sometimes, as I supposeevery bachelor must be; and I welcomed a companion. 

 * * * * *

It was Monday, the fourteenth day of April, and we had just opened theoffice, when a clerk hurried in with a message for Mr. Royce. 

"There's a man out here who wants to see you at once, sir, " he said. "He says his name's Thompson, and that he's Miss Frances Holladay'sbutler. "

Our junior half-started from his chair in his excitement; then hecontrolled himself, and sank back into it again. 

"Show him in, " he said, and sat with his eyes on the door, haggard inappearance, pitiful in his eagerness. Not until that moment had Inoticed how the past week had aged him and worn him down--his work, ofcourse, might account for part of it, but not for all. He seemedalmost ill. 

The door opened in a moment, and a gray-haired man of about sixtyentered. He was fairly gasping for breath, and plainly laboring understrong emotion. 

"Well, Thompson, " demanded Mr. Royce, "what's the trouble now?"

"Trouble enough, sir!" cried the other. "My mistress has been madeaway with, sir! She left town just ten days ago for Belair, where wewere all waiting for her, and nobody has set eyes on her since, sir!"

CHAPTER X

An Astonishing Disappearance

Mr. Royce grasped the arms of his chair convulsively, and remained fora moment speechless under the shock. Then he swung around toward me. 

"Come here, Lester, " he said hoarsely. "I needed you once before, andI need you now. This touches me so closely I can't thinkconsecutively. You _will_ help, won't you?"

There was an appeal in his face which showed his sudden weakness--anappeal there was no resisting, even had I not, myself, been deeplyinterested in the case. 

"Gladly, " I answered, from the depths of my heart, seeing howoverwrought he was. "I'll help to the very limit of my power, Mr. Royce. "

He sank back into his chair again, and breathed a long sigh. 

"I knew you would, " he said. "Get the story from Thompson, will you?"

I brought a chair, and sat down by the old butler. 

"You have been in Mr. Holladay's family a great many years, haven'tyou, Mr. Thompson?" I asked, to give him opportunity to composehimself. 

"Yes, a great many years, sir--nearly forty, I should say. "

"Before Miss Holladay's birth, then?"

"Oh, yes, sir; long before. Just before his marriage, Mr. Holladaybought the Fifth Avenue house he lived in ever since, and I wasemployed, then, sir, as an under-servant. "

"Mr. Holladay and his wife were very happy together, weren't they?" Iquestioned. 

"Very happy; yes, sir. They were just like lovers, sir, until herdeath. They seemed just made for each other, sir, " and the trite oldsaying gathered a new dignity as he uttered it. 

I paused a moment to consider. This, certainly, seemed to discreditthe theory that Holladay had ever had a liaison with any other woman, and yet what other theory was tenable?

"There was nothing to mar their happiness that you know of? Ofcourse, " I added, "you understand, Thompson, that I'm not asking thesequestions from idle curiosity, but to get to the bottom of thismystery, if possible. "

"I understand, sir, " he nodded. "No, there was nothing to mar theirhappiness--except one thing. "

"And what was that?"

"Why, they had no children, sir, for fifteen years and more. AfterMiss Frances came, of course, that was all changed. "

"She was born abroad?"

"Yes, sir; in France. I don't just know the town. "

"But you know the date of her birth?"

"Oh, yes, sir--the tenth of June, eighteen seventy-six--we alwayscelebrated it. "

"Mr. Holladay was with his wife at the time?"

"Yes, sir; he and his wife had been abroad nearly a year. His healthhad broken down, and the doctor made him take a long vacation. He camehome a few months later, but Mrs. Holladay stayed on. She didn't getstrong again, some way. She stayed nearly four years, and he went overevery few months to spend a week with her; and at last she came hometo die, bringing her child with her. That was the first time any of usever saw Miss Frances. "

"Mr. Holladay thought a great deal of her?"

"You may well say so, sir; she took his wife's place, " said the oldman simply. 

"And she thought a great deal of him?"

"More than that, sir; she fairly worshiped him. She was always at thedoor to meet him; always dined with him; they almost always spenttheir evenings together. She didn't care much for society--I've oftenheard her tell him that she'd much rather just stay at home with him. It was he who rather insisted on her going out; for he was proud ofher, as he'd a right to be. "

"Yes, " I said: for all this fitted in exactly with what I had alwaysheard about the family. "There were no other relatives, were there?"

"None at all, sir; both Mr. Holladay and his wife were only children;their parents, of course, have been dead for years. "

"Nor any intimate friends?"

"None I'd call intimate, sir; Miss Frances had some school friends, but she was always--well--reserved, sir. "

"Yes. " I nodded again. "And now, " I added, "tell me, as fully as youcan, what has happened within the last three weeks. "

"Well, sir, " he began slowly, "after her father's death, she seemedquite distracted for a while--wandered about the house, sat in thelibrary of evenings, ate scarcely anything. Then Mr. Royce got tocoming to the house, and she brightened up, and we all hoped she'dsoon be all right again. Then she seemed to get worse of a sudden, andsent us all away to get Belair ready. I got the place in order, sir, and telegraphed her that we were ready. She answered that she'd comein a few days. Ten days ago the rest of the servants came, and Ilooked for her every day, but she didn't come. I telegraphed heragain, but she didn't answer, and, finally, I got so uneasy, sir, Icouldn't rest, and came back to the city to see what was the matter. Igot here early this morning, and went right to the house. Thomas, thesecond butler, had been left in charge, and he told me that MissFrances and her maid had started for Belair the same day the servantsdid. That's all I know. "

"Then she's been gone ten days?" I questioned. 

"Ten days; yes, sir. "

Ten days! What might not have happened in that time! Doctor. Jenkinson's theory of dementia recurred to me, and I was more thanever inclined to credit it. How else explain this flight? I could seefrom Mr. Royce's face how absolutely nonplused he was. 

"Well, " I said at last, for want of something better, "we'll go withyou to the house, and see the man in charge there. Perhaps he can tellus something more. "

But he could tell us very little. Ten days before, a carriage haddriven up to the door, Miss Holladay and her maid had entered it andbeen driven away. The carriage had been called, he thought, from someneighboring stable, as the family coachman had been sent away with theother servants. They had driven down the avenue toward Thirty-fourthStreet, where, he supposed, they were going to the Long Islandstation. We looked through the house--it was in perfect order. MissHolladay's rooms were just as she would naturally have left them. Herfather's rooms, too, were evidently undisturbed. 

"Here's one thing, " I said, "that might help, " and I picked up aphotograph from the mantel. "You won't mind my using it?"

Mr. Royce took it with trembling hand and gazed at it for a moment--atthe dark eyes, the earnest mouth----Then he handed it back to me. 

"No, " he answered; "not if it will really help; we must use everymeans we can. Only----"

"I won't use it unless I absolutely have to, " I assured him; "and whenI'm done with it, I'll destroy it. "

"Very well, " he assented, and I put it in my pocket. 

There was nothing more to be discovered there, and we went away, afterwarning the two men to say not a word to anyone concerning theirmistress's disappearance. 

Plainly, the first thing to be done was to find the coachman who haddriven Miss Holladay and her maid away from the house; and with thisend in view, we visited all the stables in the neighborhood; but fromnone of them had a carriage been ordered by her. Had she ordered itherself from a stable in some distant portion of the city for thepurpose of concealing her whereabouts, or had it been ordered for herby her maid, and was she really the victim of foul play? I put thisquestion to Mr. Royce, but he seemed quite unable to reach aconclusion. As for myself, I was certain that she had gone away of herown accord, and had deliberately planned her disappearance. Why? Well, I began to suspect that we had not yet really touched the bottom ofthe mystery. 

We drove back to the office, and found Mr. Graham there. I related tohim the circumstances of our search, and submitted to him and to ourjunior one question for immediate settlement. 

"At the best, it's a delicate case, " I pointed out. "Miss Holladay hasplainly laid her plans very carefully to prevent us following her. Itmay be difficult to prove that she has not gone away entirely of herown accord. She certainly has a perfect right to go wherever shewishes without consulting us. Have we the right to follow her againsther evident desire?"

For a moment Mr. Graham did not answer, but sat tapping his desk withthat deep line of perplexity between his eyebrows. Then he noddedemphatically. 

"It's our duty to follow her and find her, " he said. "It's perfectlyevident to me that no girl in her right mind would act as she hasdone. She had no reason whatever for deceiving us--for running away. We wouldn't have interfered with her. Jenkinson's right--she'ssuffering with dementia. We must see that she receives proper medicaltreatment. "

"It might not be dementia, " I suggested, "so much as undueinfluence--on the part of the new maid, perhaps. "

"Then it's our duty to rescue her from that influence, " rejoined Mr. Graham, "and restore her to her normal mentality. "

"Even if we offend her?"

"We can't stop to think of that. Besides, she won't be offended whenshe comes to herself. The question is, how to find her most speedily. "

"The police, probably, could do it most speedily, " I said; "but sinceshe can be in no immediate danger of any kind, I rather doubt whetherit would be wise to call in the police. Miss Holladay would veryproperly resent any more publicity----"

"But, " objected Mr. Graham, "if we don't call in the police, how arewe to find her? I recognize, of course, how undesirable it is that sheshould be subjected to any further notoriety, but is there any otherway?"

I glanced at Mr. Royce, and saw that he was seemingly sunk in apathy. 

"If I could be excused from the office for a few days, sir, " I beganhesitatingly, "I might be able to find some trace of her. If I'munsuccessful, we might then call in the authorities. "

Mr. Royce brightened up for a moment. 

"That's it, " he said. "Let Lester look into it. "

"Very well, " assented Mr. Graham. "I agree to that. Of course, anyexpenses you may incur will be borne by the office. "

"Thank you, sir, " and I rose with fast-beating heart, for theadventure appealed to me strongly. "I'll begin at once then. I shouldlike assistance in one thing. Could you let me have three or fourclerks to visit the various stables of the city? It would be best, Ithink, to use our own people. "

"Certainly, " assented our senior instantly. "I'll call them in, and wecan give them their instructions at once. "

So four clerks were summoned, and each was given a district of thecity. Their instructions were to find from which stable Miss Holladayhad ordered a carriage on the morning of Thursday, April 3d. They wereto report at the office every day, noon and evening, until the searchwas finished. They started away at once, and I turned to follow them, when my eye was caught by the expression of our junior's face. 

"Mr. Royce is ill, sir!" I cried. "Look at him!"

He was leaning forward heavily, his face drawn and livid, his eyesset, his hands plucking at the arms of his chair. We sprang to him andled him to a couch. I bathed his hands and face in cold water, whileMr. Graham hurriedly summoned a physician. The doctor soon arrived, and diagnosed the case at a glance. 

"Nervous breakdown, " he said tersely. "You lawyers drive yourselvestoo hard. It's a wonder to me you don't all drop over. We'll have tolook out, or this will end in brain fever. "

He poured out a stimulant, which the sick man swallowed withoutprotest. He seemed stronger in a few moments, and began talkingincoherently to himself. We got him down to the doctor's carriage, anddrove rapidly to his lodgings, where we put him to bed without delay. 

"I think he'll pull through, " observed the doctor, after watching himfor a while. "I'll get a couple of nurses, and we'll give him everychance. Has he any relatives here in New York?"

"No; his relatives are all in Ohio. Had they better be notified?"

"Oh, I think not--not unless he gets worse. He seems to be naturallystrong. I suppose he's been worrying about something?"

"Yes, " I said. "He has been greatly worried by one of his cases. "

"Of course, " he nodded. "If the human race had sense enough to stopworrying, there'd be mighty little work for us doctors. "

"I'd like to call Doctor Jenkinson into the case, " I said. "He knowsMr. Royce, and may be of help. "

"Certainly; I'll be glad to consult with Doctor Jenkinson. "

So Jenkinson was called, and confirmed the diagnosis. He understood, of course, the cause of Mr. Royce's breakdown, and turned to me whenthe consultation was ended, and his colleague had taken his departure. 

"Mr. Lester, " he said, "I advise you to go home and get some rest. Putthis case out of your mind, or you'll be right where Mr. Royce is. Hehad some more bad news, I suppose?"

I told him of Miss Holladay's disappearance; he pondered over it amoment with grave face. 

"This strengthens my belief that she is suffering with dementia, " hesaid. "Sudden aversion to relatives and friends is one of its mostcommon symptoms. Of course, she must be found. "

"I'm going to find her, " I assured him, with perhaps a little moreconfidence than I really felt. 

"Well, remember to call on me if I can help you. But first of all, gohome and sleep for ten hours--twelve, if you can. Mind, no work beforethat--no building of theories. You'll be so much the fresherto-morrow. "

I recognized the wisdom of this advice, but I had one thing to dofirst. I took a cab and drove to the nearest telegraph office. There Isent an imperative message to Brooks, the Holladay coachman, tellinghim to return to New York by the first train, and report to me at theoffice. That done, I gave the driver my address and settled back inthe seat. 

No building of theories, Jenkinson had said; yet it was difficult tokeep the brain idle. Where was Frances Holladay? Why had she fled? Wasshe really mentally deranged? Had the weight of the secret proved toogreat for her? Or had she merely fallen under the influence of thewoman who was guilty? Supposing she was insane, what should we do withher when we found her? How could we control her? And, supposing shewere not insane, what legal right had we to interfere with her? Theseand a hundred other questions crowded upon me, till thought failed, and I lay back confused, indifferent----

"Here we are, sir, " said the driver, jumping down from his seat andjerking open the door. 

I paid him, and went stumblingly up the steps. I have no doubt he wasgrinning behind me. As I fumbled with my key, someone opened the doorfrom the inside. 

"Why, Mistair Lester!" exclaimed Martigny's voice. "What is it? Youhave no illness, I hope!"

"No, " I murmured, "I'm just dead tired, " and I started blindly for thestair. 

"Let me assist you, " and he took my arm and helped me up; then went onahead, opened my door, and lighted the gas. 

"Thanks, " I said, as I dropped into a chair. 

He sat quietly down opposite me, and, weary as I was, I was consciousof his keen eyes upon me. 

"We heard from Miss Holladay this morning, " I remarked, unconsciouslyanswering their question. 

He did not reply for a moment, but I had closed my eyes again, and Iwas too tired to open them and look at him. 

"Ah, " he said, in a voice a little hoarse; "and she is well?"

"No; she's disappeared. "

"You mean----"

"I mean she's run away, " I said, waking up a little. 

"And she has informed you----"

"Oh, no; we've just found it out. She's been gone ten days. "

"And you are going to search for her?" he questioned carelessly, afteranother pause. 

"Yes--I'll begin in the morning. "

Again there was a moment's silence. 

"Ah!" he said, with a curious intensity. "Ah. "

Then he arose and left me to tumble incontinently into bed. 

CHAPTER XI

I Unmask My Enemy

Tired Nature asserted herself and took the full twelve hours. But Ifelt like another man when I left the house next morning, and I waseager to grapple anew with the mystery. I found two reports awaitingme at the office: Mr. Royce had passed a good night and was better;the clerks who had spent the afternoon before in visiting the stableshad as yet discovered nothing, and were continuing their search. 

I looked up a time-card of the Long Island Railroad, and found thatMiss Holladay's coachman could not reach the city until 9. 30. So I puton my hat again, sought a secluded table at Wallack's, and over acigar and stein of bock, drew up a résumé of the case--to clear theatmosphere, as it were. It ran something like this:

 March 13, Thursday--Holladay found murdered; daughter drives to Washington Square. 

 March 14, Friday--Coroner's inquest; Miss Holladay released; mysterious note received. 

 March 16, Sunday--Holladay buried. 

 March 18, Tuesday--Will opened and probated. 

 March 28, Friday--Miss Holladay returns from drive, bringing new maid with her and discharges old one. 

 March 29, Saturday--Gives orders to open summer house. 

 April 1, Tuesday--Asks for $100, 000. 

 April 2, Wednesday--Gets it. 

 April 3, Thursday--Leaves home, ostensibly for Belair, in company with new maid. 

 April 14, Monday--Butler reports her disappearance; Royce taken ill; I begin my search. 

There I stopped. The last entry brought me up to date--there wasnothing more to add. But it seemed impossible that all thedevelopments of this mystery should have taken only a month. Foryears, as it seemed to me, I had thought of nothing else. 

I looked over the schedule again carefully. There was only one openingthat I could see where it was possible to begin work with the hope ofaccomplishing anything. That was in the very first entry. MissHolladay had driven to Washington Square; she had, I felt certain, visited her sister; I must discover the lodging of this woman. PerhapsI should also discover Frances Holladay there. In any event, I shouldhave a new point to work from. 

The police had been over the ground, I knew; they had exhausted everyresource in the effort to locate Mr. Holladay's mysterious visitor, and had found not a trace of her. But that fact did not discourage me;for I hoped to start my search with information which the police hadnot possessed. Brooks, the coachman, should be able to tell me----

Recalled suddenly to remembrance of him, I looked at my watch and sawthat it was past his hour. I was pleased to find him awaiting me whenI opened the office door three minutes later. I had only a fewquestions to ask him. 

"When your mistress left the carriage the day you drove her toWashington Square, did you notice which street she took after she leftthe square?"

"Yes, sir; she went on down West Broadway. "

"On which side?"

"Th' left-hand side, sir; th' east side. "

"She must have crossed the street to get to that side. "

"Yes, sir; she did. I noticed pertic'lar, for I thought it funny sheshouldn't 've let me drive her on down th' street to wherever she wasgoin'. It's a dirty place along there, sir. "

"Yes, I know. When you drove her out on the 28th--the day she broughtback the maid--where did she go?"

"To Washington Square again, sir. "

"And left you waiting for her?"

"Yes, sir; just th' same. "

"And went down the same street?"

"Yes, sir; crossed to th' east side just th' same as th' time before. "

"How long was she gone?"

"Over an hour, sir; an hour an' a half, I should say. "

"Did you notice anything unusual in her appearance when she cameback?"

"No, sir; she was wearin' a heavy veil. She had th' other woman withher, an' she just said 'Home!' in a kind o' hoarse voice, as I helpedthem into th' carriage. "

That was all that he could tell me, and yet I felt that it would helpme greatly. In the first place, it narrowed my investigations to thedistrict lying to the east of West Broadway, and I knew that theFrench quarter extended only a block or two in that direction. Andagain, it gave me a point to insist on in my inquiries--I knew thedate upon which the mysterious woman had left her lodging. Or, atleast, I knew that it must be one of two dates. The lodging had beenvacated, then, either on the twenty-eighth of March or the third ofApril. As a last resource, I had the photograph. I was ready to beginmy search, and dismissed Brooks, warning him to say nothing to anyoneabout the mystery. 

As I passed out the door to the pavement, I happened to glance acrossthe way, and there, in the crowd of brokers which always lines thestreet, I perceived Martigny. He was listening intently to one of thebrokers, who was talking earnestly in his ear--telling him how to makehis fortune, I suppose--and did not see me. For an instant, I wastempted to cross to him, and get him out of danger. Then I smiled atthe absurdity of the thought. It would take a clever man to fleeceMartigny, and I recalled his strong face, his masterful air--he was nofool, no lamb ready for the shears. He was perfectly able to look outfor himself--to wield the shears with power and effect, if need be. 

I turned west toward Broadway, still, I suppose, thinking of himsubconsciously: for a few moments later, some irresistible impulsecaused me to glance around. And there he was, walking after me, on theopposite side of the street! Then, in a flash, I understood. He wasfollowing me!

It is difficult to describe the shock that ran through me, that leftme numbed and helpless. For an instant, I stumbled on, half-dazed;then, gradually, my self-control came back, and with it a certainfierce joy, a hot exultation. Here, at last, was something definite, tangible, a clew ready to my hand, if only I were clever enough tofollow it up; a ray of light in the darkness! I could feel my cheeksburning, and my heart leaping at the thought!

But what had been his part in the affair? For a moment, I gropedblindly in the dark, but only for a moment. Whatever his share in thetragedy, he had plainly been left behind to watch us; to make surethat we did not follow the fugitives; to warn them in case of danger. I understood, now, his solicitude for Miss Holladay--"in her I takesuch an interest!" It was important that he should know the moment wediscovered her absence. And he had known; he knew that I was even atthis moment commencing the search for her. My cheeks reddened at thethought of my indiscreetness; yet he was a man to command confidence. Who would have suspected him? And an old proverb which he had repeatedone evening, flashed through my mind:

"Folle est la brebis qui au loup se confesse. "

"Silly is the sheep who to the wolf herself confesses, " I hadtranslated it, with that painful literalness characteristic of thebeginner. Well, I had been the sheep, and silly enough, Heaven knows!

I had reached Broadway, and at the corner I paused to look at adisplay of men's furnishings in a window. Far down the street, on theother side, almost lost in the hurrying crowd, Martigny was buying apaper of a newsboy. He shook it out and looked quickly up and down itscolumns, like a man who is searching for some special item of news. Perhaps he _was_ a speculator; perhaps, after all, I was deceivingmyself in imagining that he was following me. I had no proof of it; itwas the most natural thing in the world that he should be in this partof the town. I must test the theory before accepting it. It was time Igrew wary of theories. 

I entered the store, and spent ten minutes looking at some neckties. When I came out again, Martigny was just getting down from abootblack's chair across the street. His back was toward me, and Iwatched him get out his little purse and drop a dime into thebootblack's hand. I went on up Broadway, loitering sometimes, sometimes walking straight ahead; always, away behind me, lost in thecrowd, was my pursuer. It could no longer be doubted. He was reallyfollowing me, though he did it so adroitly, with such consummatecunning, that I should never have seen him, never have suspected him, but for that fortunate intuition at the start. 

A hundred plans flashed through my brain. I had this advantage: hecould not know that I suspected him. If I could only overmaster him incunning, wrest his secret from him--and then, as I remembered thestrong face, the piercing eyes, the perfect self-control, I realizedhow little possible it was that I could accomplish this. He was mysuperior in diplomacy and deceit; he would not pause, now, at anymeans to assure the success of his plot. 

Yes, I could doubt no longer that there was a plot, whose depths Ihad not before even suspected; and I drew back from the thought with alittle shiver. What was the plot? What intricate, dreadful crime wasthis which he was planning? The murder of the father, then, had beenonly the first step. The abduction of Frances Holladay was the second. What would the third be? How could we prevent his taking it? Supposewe should be unsuccessful? And, candidly, what chance of success couldwe have, fighting in the dark against this accomplished scoundrel? Hehad the threads all in his fingers, he controlled the situation; wewere struggling blindly, snarled in a net of mystery from which thereseemed no escaping. My imagination clothed him with superhumanattributes. For a moment a wild desire possessed me to turn upon him, to confront him, to accuse him, to confound him with the verycertainty of my knowledge, to surprise his secret, to trample himdown!

But the frenzy passed. No, he must not discover that I suspected him;I must not yield up that advantage. I might yet surprise him, misleadhim, set a trap for him, get him to say more than he wished to say. That battle of wits would come later on--this very night, perhaps--butfor the moment, I could do nothing better than carry out my firstplan. Yet, he must not suspect the direction of my search--I mustthrow him off the track. Why, this was, for all the world, just likethe penny-dreadfuls of my boyhood--and I smiled at the thought that Ihad become an actor in a drama fitted for a red-and-yellow cover!

My plan was soon made. I crossed Broadway and turned into Cortlandt, sauntering along it until the Elevated loomed just ahead; I heard theroar of an approaching train, and stopped to purchase some fruit atthe corner stand. My pursuer was some distance behind, closelyinspecting the bric-à-brac in a peddler's cart. The train rumbledinto the station, and, starting as though I had just perceived it, Ibounded up the stair, slammed my ticket into the chopper, and divedacross the platform. The guard at the rear of the train held the gateopen for me an instant, and then clanged it shut. We were off with ajerk; as I looked back, I saw Martigny rush out upon the platform. Hestood staring after me for an instant; then, with a sudden grasping athis breast, staggered and seemed to fall. A crowd closed about him, the train whisked around a corner, and I could see no more. 

But, at any rate, I was well free of him, and I got off at BleeckerStreet, walked on to the Square, and began my search. My plan was verysimple. Beginning on the east side of West Broadway, it was myintention to stop at every house and inquire whether lodgers werekept. My experience at the first place was a pretty fair sample of allthe rest. 

A frowsy-headed woman answered my knock. 

"You have rooms to let?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes, monsieur, " she answered, with an expansive grin. "Step zisvay. "

We mounted a dirty stair, and she threw open a door with a flourishmeant to be impressive. 

"Zese are ze rooms, monsieur; zey are ver' fine. "

I looked around them with simulated interest, smothering my disgust aswell as I could. 

"How long have they been vacant?" I asked. 

"Since only two days, monsieur; as you see, zey are ver' fine rooms. "

That settled it. If they had been vacant only two days, I had nofurther interest in them, and with some excuse I made my way out, gladto escape from that fetid atmosphere of garlic and onions. So I wentfrom house to house; stumbling over dirty children; climbing grimystairs, catching glimpses of crowded sweat-shops; peering into allsorts of holes called rooms by courtesy; inhaling a hundred stenchesin as many minutes; gaining an insight that sickened me into thesqualid life of the quarter. Sometimes I began to hope that at last Iwas on the right track; but further inquiry would prove my mistake. Sothe morning passed, and the afternoon. I had covered two blocks to nopurpose, and at last I turned eastward to Broadway, and took a cardowntown to the office. My assistants had reported again--they had metwith no better success than I. Mr. Graham noticed my dejectedappearance, and spoke a word of comfort. 

"I think you're on the right track, Lester, " he said. "But you can'thope to do much by yourself--it's too big a job. Wouldn't it be betterto employ half a dozen private detectives, and put them under yoursupervision? You could save yourself this nerve-trying work, and atthe same time get over the ground much more rapidly. Besides, experienced men may be able to suggest something that you'veoverlooked. "

I had thought of that--I had wondered if I were making the bestpossible use of my opportunities--and the suggestion tempted me. Butsomething rose within me--pride, ambition, stubbornness, what youwill--and I shook my head, determined to hang on. Besides, I had stillbefore me that battle of wits with Martigny, and I was resolved tomake the most of it. 

"Let me keep on by myself a day or two longer, sir, " I said. "Ibelieve I'll succeed yet. If I don't there will still be time to callin outside help. I fancy I've made a beginning, and I want to see whatcomes of it. "

He shook me kindly by the hand. 

"I like your grit, " he said approvingly, "and I've every confidence inyou--it wasn't lack of confidence that prompted the suggestion. Onlydon't overdo the thing, and break down as Royce has. He's better, bythe way, but the doctor says that he must take a long vacation--athorough rest. "

"I'm glad he's better. I'll be careful, " I assented, and left theoffice. 

While I waited for a car I bought a copy of the last edition of the_Sun_--from force of habit, more than anything; then, settling myselfin a seat--still from force of habit--I turned to the financial columnand looked it over. There was nothing of special interest there, and Iturned back to the general news, glancing carelessly from item toitem. Suddenly one caught my eye which brought me up with a shock. Theitem read:

 Shortly after ten o'clock this morning, a man ran up the steps of the Cortlandt Street station of the Sixth Avenue Elevated, in the effort to catch an uptown train just pulling out, and dropped over on the platform with heart disease. An ambulance was called from the Hudson Street Hospital and the man taken there. At noon, it was said he would recover. He was still too weak to talk, but among other things, a card of the Café Jourdain, 54 West Houston Street, was found in his pocket-book. An inquiry there developed the fact that his name is Pierre Bethune, that he is recently from France, and has no relatives in this country. 

In a moment I was out of the car and running westward to the Elevated. I felt that I held in my hand the address I needed. 

CHAPTER XII

At the Café Jourdain

Fifty-four West Houston Street, just three blocks south of WashingtonSquare, was a narrow, four-storied-and-basement building, of graybrick with battered brown-stone trimmings--at one time, perhaps, afashionable residence, but with its last vestige of glory long sincedeparted. In the basement was a squalid cobbler's shop, and therestaurant occupied the first floor. Dirty lace curtains hung at thewindows, screening the interior from the street; but when I mountedthe step to the door and entered, I found the place typical of itsclass. I sat down at one of the little square tables, and ordered abottle of wine. It was Monsieur Jourdain himself who brought it: alittle, fat man, with trousers very tight, and a waistcoat verydazzling. The night trade had not yet begun in earnest, so he was forthe moment at leisure, and he consented to drink a glass of wine withme--I had ordered the "supérieur. "

"You have lodgings to let, I suppose, on the floors above?" Iquestioned. 

He squinted at me through his glass, trying, with French shrewdness, to read me before answering. 

"Why, yes, we have lodgings; still, a man of monsieur's habit wouldscarcely wish----"

"The habit does not always gauge the purse, " I pointed out. 

"That is true, " he smiled, sipping his wine. "Monsieur then wishes alodging?"

"I should like to look at yours. "

"You understand, monsieur, " he explained, "that this is a goodquarter, and our rooms are not at all the ordinar' rooms--oh, no, theyare quite supérior to that. They are in great demand--we have only onevacant at this moment--in fact, I am not certain that it is yet atliberty. I will call my wife. "

She was summoned from behind the counter, where she presided at themoney-drawer, and presented to me as Madame Jourdain. I filled a glassfor her. 

"Monsieur, here, is seeking a lodging, " he began. "Is the one on thesecond floor, back, at our disposal yet, Célie?"

His wife pondered the question a moment, looking at me with sharplittle eyes. 

"I do not know, " she said at last. "We shall have to ask MonsieurBethune. He said he might again have need of it. He has paid for ituntil the fifteenth. "

My heart leaped at the name. I saw that I must take the bull by thehorns--assume a bold front; for if they waited to consult my pursuer, I should never gain the information I was seeking. 

"It was through Monsieur Bethune that I secured your address, " I saidboldly. "He was taken ill this morning; his heart, you know, " and Itapped my chest. 

They nodded, looking at me, nevertheless, with eyes narrow withsuspicion. 

"Yes, monsieur, we know, " said Jourdain. "The authorities at thehospital at once notified us. "

"It is not the first attack, " I asserted, with a temerity born ofnecessity. "He has had others, but none so serious as this. "

They nodded sympathetically. Plainly they had been considerablyimpressed by their lodger. 

"So, " I continued brazenly, "he knows at last that his condition isvery bad, and he wishes to remain at the hospital for some days untilhe has quite recovered. In the meantime, I am to have the second floorback, which was occupied by the ladies. "

I spoke the last word with seeming nonchalance, without the quiver ofa lash, though I was inwardly a-quake; for I was risking everythingupon it. Then, in an instant I breathed more freely. I saw that I hadhit the mark, and that their suspicions were gradually growing less. 

"They, of course, are not coming back, " I added; "at least, not for along time; so he has no further use for the room. This is thefourteenth--I can take possession to-morrow. "

They exchanged a glance, and Madame Jourdain arose. 

"Very well, monsieur, " she said. "Will you have the kindness to comeand look at the room?"

I followed her up the stair, giddy at my good fortune. She opened adoor and lighted a gas-jet against the wall. 

"I am sure you will like the apartment, monsieur, " she said. "You see, it is a very large one and most comfortable. "

It was, indeed, of good size and well furnished. The bed was in a kindof alcove, and beyond it was a bath--unlooked-for luxury! One thing, however, struck me as peculiar. The windows were closed by heavyshutters, which were barred upon the inside, and the bars were securedin place by padlocks. 

"I shall want to open the windows, " I remarked. "Do you always keepthem barred?"

She hesitated a moment, looking a little embarrassed. 

"You see, monsieur, it is this way, " she explained, at last. "MonsieurBethune himself had the locks put on; for he feared that his poorsister would throw herself down into the court-yard, which is pavedwith stone, and where she would certainly have been killed. She wasvery bad some days, poor dear. I was most glad when they took heraway: for the thought of her made me nervous. I will in the morningopen the windows, and air the room well for you. "

"That will do nicely, " I assented, as carelessly as I could. I knewthat I had chanced upon a new development, though I could not in theleast guess its bearing. "What do you ask for the apartment?"

"Ten dollars the week, monsieur, " she answered, eying me narrowly. 

I knew it was not worth so much, and, remembering my character, repressed my first inclination to close the bargain. 

"That is a good deal, " I said hesitatingly. "Haven't you a cheaperroom, Madame Jourdain?"

"This is the only one we have now vacant, monsieur, " she assured me. 

I turned back toward the door with a little sigh. 

"I fear I can't take it, " I said. 

"Monsieur does not understand, " she protested. "That price, of course, includes breakfast. "

"And dinner?"

She hesitated, eying me again. 

"For one dollar additional it shall include dinner. "

"Done, madame!" I cried. "I pay you for a week in advance, " and Isuited the action to the word. "Only, " I added, "be sure to air theroom well to-morrow--it seems very close. Still, Bethune was right tomake sure that his sister could not harm herself. "

"Yes, " she nodded, placing the money carefully in an old purse, withthe true miserly light in her eyes. "Yes--she broke down mostsudden--it was the departure of her mother, you know, monsieur. "

I nodded thoughtfully. 

"When they first came, six weeks ago, she was quite well. Then hermother a position of some sort secured and went away; she never lefther room after that, just sat there and cried, or rattled at the doorsand windows. Her brother was heartbroken about her--no one else wouldhe permit to attend her. But I hope that she is well now, poor child, for she is again with her mother. "

"Her mother came after her?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes; ten days ago, and together they drove away. By this time, they are again in the good France. "

I pretended to be inspecting a wardrobe, for I felt sure my face wouldbetray me. At a flash, I saw the whole story. There was nothing moreMadame Jourdain could tell me. 

"Yes, " I repeated, steadying my voice, "the good France. "

"Monsieur Bethune has himself been absent for a week, " she added, "onaffairs of business. He was not certain that he would return, but hepaid us to the fifteenth. "

I nodded. "Yes: to-morrow--I will take possession then. "

"Very well, monsieur, " she assented; "I will have it in readiness. "

For an instant, I hesitated. Should I use the photograph? Was itnecessary? How explain my possession of it? Did I not already knowall that Madame Jourdain could tell me? I turned to the stair. 

"Then I must be going, " I said; "I have some business affairs toarrange, " and we went down together. 

The place was filling with a motley crowd of diners, but I paused onlyto exchange a nod with Monsieur Jourdain, and then hurried away. Thefugitives had taken the French line, of course, and I hastened on tothe foot of Morton Street, where the French line pier is. A ship wasbeing loaded for the voyage out, and the pier was still open. A clerkdirected me to the sailing schedule, and a glance at it confirmed myguess. At ten o'clock on the morning of Thursday, April 3d, _LaSavoie_ had sailed for Havre. 

"May I see _La Savoie's_ passenger list?" I asked. 

"Certainly, sir, " and he produced it. 

I did not, of course, expect to find Miss Holladay entered upon it, yet I felt that a study of it might be repaid; and I was notmistaken. A Mrs. G. R. Folsom and two daughters had occupied the_cabine de luxe_, 436, 438, 440; on the company's list, which had beengiven me, I saw bracketed after the name of the youngest daughter thesingle word "invalide. "

"_La Lorraine_ sails day after to-morrow, I believe?" I asked. 

"Yes, sir. "

"And is she full?"

"No, sir; it is a little early in the season yet, " and he got down thelist of staterooms, showing me which were vacant. I selected anoutside double one, and deposited half the fare, in order to reserveit. 

There was nothing more to be done that night, for a glance at my watchshowed me the lateness of the hour. As I emerged from the pier, Isuddenly found myself very weary and very hungry, so I called a caband was driven direct to my rooms. A bath and dinner set me up again, and finally I settled down with my pipe to arrange the events of theday. 

Certainly I had progressed. I had undoubtedly got on the track of thefugitives; I had found out all that I could reasonably have hoped tofind out. And yet my exultation was short-lived. Admitted that I wason their track, how much nearer success had I got? I knew that theyhad sailed for France, but for what part of France? They woulddisembark at Havre--how was I, reaching Havre, two weeks later, todiscover which direction they had taken? Suppose they had gone toParis, as seemed most probable, how could I ever hope to find themthere? Even if I did find them, would I be in time to checkmateMartigny?

For a time, I paused, appalled at the magnitude of the task that laybefore me--in all France, to find three people! But, after all, itmight not be so great. Most probably, these women were from one of thetowns Holladay and his wife had visited during their stay in France. Which towns they were, I, of course, had no means of knowing; yet Ifelt certain that some means of discovering them would present itself. That must be my work for the morrow. 

A half-hour passed, and I sat lost in speculation, watching the bluesmoke curling upward, striving vainly to penetrate the mystery. For Iwas as far as ever from a solution of it. Who were these people? Whatwas their aim? How had they managed to win Miss Holladay over to theirside; to persuade her to accompany them; to flee from herfriends--above all, from our junior partner? How had they caused herchange of attitude toward him? Or had they really abducted her? Wasthere really danger of foul play--danger that she would fall a victim, as well as her father? Who was Martigny? And, above all, what was theplot? What did he hope to gain? What was he striving for? What wasthis great stake, for which he risked so much?

To these questions I could find no reasonable answer; I was stillgroping aimlessly in the dark; and at last in sheer confusion, I putdown my pipe, turned out the light, and went to bed. 

CHAPTER XIII

En Voyage

Mr. Graham's congratulations next morning quite overwhelmed me. 

"I never expected such complete and speedy success, Mr. Lester, " hesaid warmly. "You've done splendid work. "

I pointed out to him that, after all, my success was purely the resultof accident. Had I been really clever, I should have instantlysuspected what that sudden seizure on the station platform meant, Ishould have hurried back to the scene, and followed Martigny--as Istill called him in my thoughts--to the hospital, on the chance ofsecuring his first address. Instead of which, if chance had notbefriended me, I should have been as far as ever from a solution ofthe mystery. I trembled to think upon what a slender thread my victoryhad hung. 

But my chief would not listen; he declared that a man must be judgedby his achievements, and that he judged me by mine. 

"Let us find out how our friend is, " I said at last; so the hospitalwas called up. We were informed that the patient was stronger, butwould not be able to leave his bed for two or three days. 

"The Jourdains may tell him of my call, " I said. "They'll suspectsomething when I don't return to-day--yet they may wait for me a dayor two longer--they have my money--and one day is all I want. It'sjust possible that they may keep silent altogether. They've nothing togain by speaking--it's plain that they're not in the conspiracy. Anyway, to-morrow I'll be out of reach. "

Mr. Graham nodded. 

"Yes--that's plainly the next step. You must follow them toFrance--but where in France will you look for them? I didn't think ofthat before. Why, the search is just beginning! I thought itimpossible to accomplish what you have accomplished, but that seemseasy, now, beside this new problem. "

"Yes, " I assented; "still, it may not be so hard as it looks. We musttry to find out where the women have gone, and I believe Rogers canhelp us. My theory is that they're from one of the towns which theHolladays visited when they were abroad, and Mr. Holladay must havekept in touch with his office, more or less, during that time. "

My chief sprang up and seized his hat. 

"The very thing!" he cried. "There's no luck about that bit ofreasoning, Mr. Lester. Come, I'll go with you. "

"Only, " I added, as we went down together, "I very much fear that thesearch will lead to Paris, for Martigny is undoubtedly a Parisian. "

"And to find a person in Paris. . . . "

I did not answer: I only shut my teeth together, and told myself forthe hundredth time that I must not fail. 

Rogers had been carrying on the routine work of the business since hisemployer's death, and was supervising the settlement of accounts, andthe thousand and one details which must be attended to before thebusiness could be closed up. We found him in the private office, andstated our errand without delay. 

"Yes, " he said, "Mr. Holladay kept in touch with the office, ofcourse. Let me see--what was the date?"

"Let us look for the first six months of 1876, " I suggested. 

He got down the file covering that period, and ran through theletters. 

"Yes, here they are, " he said after a moment. "In January, he writesfrom Nice, where they seem to have remained during February and March. About the middle of April, they started north--here's a letter datedParis, April 19th--and from Paris they went to a place calledEtretat. They remained there through May, June, and July. That is allthe time covered by this file. Shall I get another?"

"No, " I answered; "but I wish you'd make an abstract of Mr. Holladay'swhereabouts during the whole time he was abroad, and send it to ouroffice not later than this afternoon. "

"Very well, sir, " he said, and we left the room. 

"But why didn't you let him go farther?" asked Mr. Graham, as we leftthe building. 

"Because I think I've found the place, sir, " I answered. "Did younotice--the time they stayed at Etretat covers the period of MissHolladay's birth, with which, I'm convinced, these people were in someway concerned. We must look up Etretat. "

A map at the office showed us that it was a little fishing hamlet andseaside resort on the shore of the English Channel, not far north ofHavre. 

"My theory is, " I said, "that when the time of her confinementapproached, Mr. Holladay brought his wife to Paris to secure theservices of an experienced physician, perhaps; or perhaps a nurse, orlinen, or all of them. That done, they proceeded to Etretat, whichthey may have visited before, and knew for a quiet place, with abracing atmosphere and good climate--just such a place as they wouldnaturally desire. Here, the daughter was born, and here, I amconvinced, we shall find the key to the mystery, though I'm very farfrom guessing what that key is. But I have a premonition--you maysmile if you wish--that I'll find the clew I'm seeking at Etretat. Thename has somehow struck an answering chord in me. "

The words, as I recall them now, seem more than a little foolish andself-assured; yet, in light of the result--well, at any rate, my chiefshowed no disposition to smile, but sat for some moments in deepthought. 

"I don't doubt that you're right, Mr. Lester, " he said at last. "Atany rate, I'm ready to trust your experience--since I have absolutelynone in this kind of work. I don't need to say that I have everyconfidence in you. I'll have a letter of credit prepared at once, sothat you may not want for money--shall we say five thousand to startwith?"

I stammered that I was certain that would be more than enough, but hesilenced me with a gesture. 

"You'll find foreign travel more expensive than you think, " he said. "It may be, too, that you'll find that money will help you materiallywith your investigations. I want you to have all you may need--don'tspare it. When you need more don't hesitate to draw on us. "

I thanked him and was about to take my leave, for I had some packingto do and some private business to arrange, when a message came fromDoctor Jenkinson. Mr. Graham smiled as he read it. 

"Royce is better, " he said; "much better. He's asking for you, andJenkinson seems to think you'd better go to him, especially if you canbring good news. "

"Just the thing!" I cried. "I must go to bid him good-by, in anyevent, " and half an hour later I was admitted to our junior's room. Hewas lying back in a big chair, and seemed pale and weak, but heflushed up when he saw me, and held out his hand eagerly. 

"I couldn't wait any longer, Lester, " he began. "It seems an age sinceI've seen you. I'd have sent for you before this, but I knew that youwere working. "

"Yes, " I smiled; "I was working. "

"Sit down and tell me about it, " he commanded. "All about it--everydetail. "

The door opened as he spoke, and Dr. Jenkinson came in. 

"Doctor, " I queried, "how far is it safe to indulge this sick man? Hewants me to tell him a story. "

"Is it a good story?" asked the doctor. 

"Why, yes; fairly good. "

"Then tell it. May I stay?"

"Certainly, " said Mr. Royce and I together, and the doctor drew up achair. 

So I recounted, as briefly as I could, the events of the past twodays, and the happy accident which had given me the address I sought. Mr. Royce's face was beaming when I ended. 

"And you start for France to-morrow?" he asked. 

"To-morrow morning--the boat sails at ten o'clock. "

"Well, I'm going with you!" he cried. 

"Why, " I stammered, startled by his vehemence, "are you strong enough?I'd be mighty glad to have you, but do you think you ought? How aboutit, doctor?"

Jenkinson was smiling with half-shut eyes. 

"It's not a bad idea, " he said. "He needs rest and quiet more thananything else, and he's bound to get a week of that on the water, which is more than he'll do here. I can't keep that brain of hisstill, wherever he is. He'd worry here, and with you he'll becontented. Besides, " he added, "he ought to be along: for I believethe expedition is going to be successful!"

I believed so, too; but I recognized in Jenkinson's words that fineoptimism which had done so much to make him the great doctor he was. Ishook our junior's hand again in the joy of having him with me. As forhim, he seemed quite transformed, and Jenkinson gazed at him with alook of quiet pleasure. 

"You'll have to pack, " I said. "Will you need my help?"

"No; nurse can do it, with the doctor here to help us out, " helaughed. "You've your own packing to do, and odds and ends to lookafter. Besides, neither of us will need much luggage. Don't forget toreserve the other berth in that stateroom for me. "

"No, " I said, and rose. "I'll come for you in the morning. "

"All right; I'll be ready. "

The doctor followed me out to give me a word of caution. Mr. Royce wasstill far from well; he must not over-exert himself; he must be keptcheerful and hopeful, if possible; above all, he was not to worry;quiet and sea air would do the rest. 

I hurried back to the office to make my final report to Mr. Graham, and to get the abstract which Rogers had promised to have ready, andwhich was awaiting me on my desk. Our worthy senior was genuinelypleased when he learned that his junior was going with me, though ourabsence would mean a vast deal of extra work for himself. The canvassof the city stables had been completed without result, but I suspectednow that Martigny himself had hired the carriage, and had, perhaps, even acted as driver--such an easy and obvious way to baffle ourpursuit would hardly have escaped him. 

I finished up some odds and ends of work which I had left undone, andfinally bade Mr. Graham good-by, and started for my rooms. My packingwas soon finished, and I sat down for a final smoke and review of thesituation. 

There was one development of the day before which quite baffled me. Ihad proved that there were, indeed, two women, and I believed them tobe mother and daughter, but I could not in the least understand whythe younger one had so completely broken down after the departure ofthe elder with Miss Holladay. I looked at this point from every side, but could find no reasonable explanation of it. It might be, indeed, that the younger one was beginning already to repent her share in theconspiracy--there could be no question that it was she who had struckdown Holladay in his office--that she had even refused to go fartherin the plot, and that her companions had found it necessary torestrain her; but this seemed to me too exceedingly improbable tobelieve. And, as I went over the ground again, I found myselfbeginning more and more to doubt the truth of Godfrey's theory, thoughI could formulate none to take its place; I became lost in a maze ofconjecture, and, at last, I gave it up and went to bed. 

 * * * * *

I called for Mr. Royce, as we had agreed, and together we drove downto Morton Street. He, too, had limited his baggage to a single smalltrunk. We secured a deck-hand to take them into our stateroom, and, after seeing them disposed of, went out on deck to watch the lastpreparations for departure. The pier was in that state of hurly-burlywhich may be witnessed only at the sailing of a transatlantic liner. The last of the freight was being got aboard with frantic haste; theboat and pier were crowded with people who had come to bid theirfriends good-by; two tugs were puffing noisily alongside, ready topull us out into the stream. My companion appeared quite strong, andseemed to enjoy the bustle and hubbub as much as I did. He flushedwith pleasure, as he caught sight of our senior pushing his way towardus. 

"Why, this is kind of you, sir!" he cried, grasping his hand. "I knowwhat the work of the office must be, with both of us deserting youthis way. "

"Tut, tut!" and Mr. Graham smiled at us. "You deserve a vacation, don't you? I couldn't let you go without telling you good-by. Besides, " he added, "I learned just this morning that two very dearfriends of mine are taking this boat--Mrs. Kemball and herdaughter--the widow of Jim Kemball, you know. "

Mr. Royce nodded. I, too, recalled the name--Jim Kemball had been oneof the best men at the New York bar twenty years before, and mustinevitably have made a great name for himself but for his untimelydeath. I had heard a hundred stories of him. 

"Well, I want you to meet them, " continued Mr. Graham, looking aboutin all directions. "Ah, here they are!" and he dragged his partneraway toward the bow of the boat. I saw him bowing before a gray-hairedlittle lady, and a younger and taller one whose back was toward me. They laughed together for a moment, then the last bell rang, and theship's officers began to clear the boat. I turned back to the pier, but was brought round an instant later by Mr. Graham's voice. 

"My dear Lester, " he cried, "I thought we'd lost you. I want tointroduce you to Mrs. Kemball and her daughter, who are to be yourfellow voyagers. Mr. Lester's a very ingenious young man, " he added. "Make him amuse you!" and he hastened away to catch the gang-plankbefore it should be pulled in. 

I bowed to Mrs. Kemball, thinking to myself that I had never seen asweeter, pleasanter face. Then I found myself looking into a pair ofblue eyes that fairly took my breath away. 

"We'll not neglect Mr. Graham's advice, " said a merry voice. "Soprepare for your fate, Mr. Lester!"

There was a hoarse shouting at the gang-way behind me, and the eyeslooked past me, over my shoulder. 

"See, " she said; "there's one poor fellow who has just made it. "

I turned and looked toward the gang-plank. One end had been castloose, but two deck-hands were assisting another man to mount it. Heseemed weak and helpless, and they supported him on either side. Aninvoluntary cry rose to my lips as I looked at him, but I choked itback. For it was Martigny, risen from his bed to follow us!

CHAPTER XIV

I Prove a Bad Sentinel

I watched him with a kind of fascination until he disappeared throughthe door of the cabin. I could guess what it had cost him to draghimself from his bed, what agony of apprehension must have been uponhim to make him take the risk. The Jourdains, puzzled at my notreturning, unable to keep silence, suspecting, perhaps, some plotagainst themselves, had doubtless gone to the hospital and told him ofmy appearance--there had been no way for me to guard against that. Hehad easily guessed the rest. He had only to consult the passenger listto assure himself that Mr. Royce and I were aboard. And he wasfollowing us, hoping--what? What could a man in his condition hope toaccomplish? What need was there for us to fear him? And yet, there wassomething about him--something in the atmosphere of the man--thatalmost terrified me. 

I came back to earth to find that Royce and Mrs. Kemball had driftedaway together, and that my companion was regarding me from underhalf-closed lids with a little smile of amusement. 

"So you're awake again, Mr. Lester?" she asked. "Do you often sufferattacks of that sort?"

"Pardon me, " I stammered. "The fact is, I--I----"

"You looked quite dismayed, " she continued relentlessly. "You seemedpositively horror-stricken. I saw nothing formidable about him. "

"No; you don't know him!" I retorted, and stopped, lest I should saytoo much. 

She was smiling broadly, now; an adorable smile that wrinkled up thecorners of her eyes, and gave me a glimpse of little white teeth. 

"I think we'd better sit down, " she said. 

"Your knees seem to be still somewhat shaky. Mother and Mr. Royce havedeserted us. "

So we sought a seat near the stern, where we could watch the city sinkgradually away in the distance, as the great boat glided smoothly outinto the bay, her engines starting on the rhythm which was to continueceaselessly until the voyage ended. I confess frankly I was worried. Ihad not thought for a moment that Martigny would have the temerity toboard the same boat with us--yet it was not so wonderful after all, since he could not guess that I suspected him, that I knew him andBethune to be the same person. That was my great advantage. In anyevent, we were in no danger from him; he was probably following usonly that he might warn his confederates, should we seem likely todiscover them. Certainly they were in no present danger of discovery, and perhaps might never be. But his following us, his disregard of thegrave danger to himself, gave me a new measure of his savagedetermination to baffle us; I found myself more and more beginning tofear him. My fancy cast about him a sinister cloud, from the depths ofwhich he peered out at us, grim, livid, threatening. 

Should I inform Mr. Royce of this new development? I asked myself;then I remembered the doctor's words. He must have rest and quietduring the coming week; he must be free from worry. 

"I trust that I'm not in the way, Mr. Lester?" inquired a low, provoking voice at my side, and I awoke to the fact that I had againbeen guilty of forgetting my companion. 

"Miss Kemball, " I began desperately, "let me confess that I'm in anexceedingly vexatious situation. The fact that I can't ask advicemakes it worse. "

"You can't ask even Mr. Royce?" she queried, with raised brows. 

"He least of all. You see, he's just recovering from a severe nervousbreakdown--he must have quiet--that's one reason he's taking thisvoyage. "

"I see, " she nodded. 

I glanced at her again--at the open, candid eyes, the forceful mouthand chin--and I took a sudden resolution. 

"Miss Kemball, " I said, "I'm going to ask your help--that is, if Imay. "

"Of course you may. "

"Well, then, that man who came on board last is the inveterate enemyof both Mr. Royce and myself. We're trying to unearth a particularlyatrocious piece of villainy in which he's concerned. I have reason tobelieve him capable of anything, and a very fiend of cleverness. Idon't know what he may plot against us, but I'm certain he'll plotsomething. Mr. Royce doesn't even know him by sight, and shouldn't beworried; but, unless he's forewarned, he may walk right into danger. Iwant you to help me keep an eye on him--to help me keep him out ofdanger. If we look after him closely enough, I shan't need to warnhim. Will you help me?"

Her eyes were dancing as she looked up at me. 

"Why, certainly!" she cried. "So we're to have a mystery--just wetwo!"

"Just we two!" I assented with a quickened pulse. 

She looked at me doubtfully for a moment. 

"I must remember Mr. Graham's warning, " she said. "You haven'tinvented this astonishing story just to entertain me, Mr. Lester?"

"On my word, no, " I responded, a little bitterly. "I only wish I had!"

"There, " she said contritely; "I shouldn't have doubted! Forgive me, Mr. Lester. Only it seemed so fantastic--so improbable----"

"It _is_ fantastic, " I assented, "but, unfortunately, it is true. Wemust keep an eye on Monsieur Martigny or Bethune. "

"Which is his real name?"

"Those are the only ones I know, but I doubt if either is the trueone. "

Royce and Mrs. Kemball joined us a moment later, and we sat watchingthe low, distant Long Island shore until the gong summoned us tolunch. A word to the steward had secured us one of the small tables inan alcove at the side--Mrs. Kemball and her daughter surrendered thegrandeurs of the captain's table willingly, even gladly, to ministerto us--and the meal was a merry one, Mr. Royce seeming in such spiritsthat I was more than ever determined not to disturb him with theknowledge of Martigny's presence. 

As the moments passed, my fears seemed more and more uncalled for. Itwas quite possible, I told myself, that I had been making a bogy of myown imaginings. The Frenchman did not appear in the saloon, and, afterwards, an inquiry of the ship's doctor developed the fact that hewas seriously ill, and quite unable to leave his state room. 

So afternoon and evening passed. There were others on board whoclaimed their share of the charming Mrs. Kemball and her daughter. Mr. Royce knew a few of them, too, and introduced me to them, but I foundtheir talk somehow flat and savorless. I fancied that my companionlooked slightly wearied, too, and at last we stole away to our deckchairs, where we sat for an hour or more looking out across thedancing waves, listening to the splash of the boat as she rose andfell over them. He was thinking, no doubt, of a certain dark beauty, whose caprices there was no explaining. As for me--well, I hadsuddenly developed a sturdy preference for blue eyes. 

 * * * * *

I may as well confess at once that I was seasick. It came nextmorning, ten minutes after I had left my berth--not a violentsickness, but a faintness and giddiness that made me long for myberth again. But Mr. Royce would not hear of it. He got me out on deckand into my chair, with the fresh breeze blowing full in my face. There was a long line of chairs drawn up there, and from the faces ofmost of their occupants, I judged they were far more miserable than I. At the end of an hour, thanks to this treatment, I felt almost wellagain, and could devour with some appetite the luncheon which Mr. Royce ordered for me. 

After a while the doctor came down the line and looked at each of us, stopping for a moment's chat. The more serious cases were below, andall that any of us needed was a little encouragement. 

"Won't you sit down a minute, doctor?" I asked, when he came to me, and motioned to Mr. Royce's chair. 

"Why, you're not sick!" he protested, laughing, but he dropped intothe vacant place. 

"It wasn't about myself I wanted to talk, " I said. "How's your otherpatient--the one who came aboard last?"

His face sobered in an instant. 

"Martigny is his name, " he said, "and he's in very bad shape. He musthave been desperately anxious to get back to France. Why, he mighthave dropped over dead there on the gang-plank. "

"It's a disease of the heart?"

"Yes--far advanced. He can't get well, of course, but he may live onindefinitely, if he's careful. "

"He's still confined to his bed?"

"Oh, yes--he won't leave it during the voyage, if he takes my advice. He's got to give his heart just as little work as possible, or it'llthrow up the job altogether. He has mighty little margin to go on. "

I turned the talk to other things, and in a few moments he went onalong his rounds. But I was not long alone, for I saw Miss Kemballcoming toward me, looking a very Diana, wind-blown and rosy-cheeked. 

"So _mal-de-mer_ has laid its hand on you, too, Mr. Lester!" shecried. 

"Only a finger, " I said. "But a finger is enough. Won't you take pityon a poor landsman and talk to him?"

"But that's reversing our positions!" she protested, sitting down, nevertheless, to my great satisfaction. "It was you who were to be theentertainer! Is our Mephisto abroad yet?" she asked, in a lower tone. "I, too, am feeling his fascination--I long for another glimpse ofhim. "

"Mephisto is still wrestling with his heart, which, it seems, isscarcely able to furnish the blood necessary to keep him going. Thedoctor tells me that he'll probably spend the voyage abed. "

"So there'll be nothing for us to do, after all! Do you know, Mr. Lester, I was longing to become a female Lecoq!"

"Perhaps you may still have the chance, " I said gloomily. "I doubtvery much whether Mephisto will consent to remain inactive. Hedoesn't look to be that sort. "

She clapped her hands, and nodded a laughing recognition to one of thepassing promenaders. 

"You're going to Paris, aren't you, Miss Kemball?" I asked. 

"To Paris--yes. You too? You must be, since you're going to France. "

"We go first to Etretat, " I said, and stopped, as she leaned, laughing, back in her chair. "Why, what's wrong with that?" Idemanded, in some astonishment. 

"Wrong? Oh, nothing. Etretat's a most delightful place--only itrecalled to me an amusing memory of how my mother was one dayscandalized there by some actresses who were bathing. It's theprettiest little fishing-village, with the finest cliffs I ever saw. But it's hardly the season for Etretat--the actresses have not yetarrived. You'll find it dull. "

"We will not stay there long, " I said. "But tell me about it. Ishould like to know. "

"Etretat, " said my companion, "is rather a bohemian resort. AlphonseKarr discovered it somewhere back in the dark ages, and advertisedit--the Etretatians were immensely grateful, and named the main streetof the town after him--and since then a lot of artists and theatricalpeople have built villas there. It has a little beach of gravel wherepeople bathe all day long. When one's tired of bathing, there are thecliffs and the downs, and in the evening there's the casino. You knowFrench, Mr. Lester?"

"Why, " I explained, "I was supposed to study it at college. I stillremember my '_j'ai, tu a, il a_. '"

"You'll remember more when you get to Etretat, " she laughed. "You'llhave to, or starve. "

"Oh, I also know the phrase made immortal by Mark Twain. "

"'_Avez-vous du vin?_'--yes. "

"And I think I also have a hazy recollection of the French equivalentsfor bread and butter and cheese and meat. We shan't starve--besides, Ithink Mr. Royce can help. He's been to France. "

"Of course--and here he comes to claim his chair. "

"I won't permit him to claim it if you'll use it a little longer, " Iprotested. 

"Oh, but I must be going, " and she arose, laughing. "Have I been asatisfactory entertainer?"

"More than satisfactory; I'll accept no other. "

"But you won't need any at all, after this morning--I don't reallybelieve you're ill now!"

She nodded to Royce, and moved away without waiting for my answer, which somehow halted on my lips; and so I was left to the rosiest, themost improbable of day dreams. 

Saturday, Sunday, and Monday passed, with only such incidents toenliven them as are common to all voyages. But I saw that quiet andsea air were doing their work well with my companion, and that he wassteadily regaining his normal health. So I felt more and more atliberty to devote myself to Miss Kemball--in such moments as she wouldpermit me--and I found her fascination increasing in a ratio quitegeometrical. Martigny was still abed, and, so the ship's doctor toldme, was improving very slowly. 

It was Tuesday evening that Mrs. Kemball and her daughter joined us onthe promenade, and weary, at last, of Strauss waltzes and Sousamarches, we sauntered away toward the bow of the boat, where the noisefrom the orchestra could reach us only in far-away snatches. We founda seat in the shadow of the wheel-house, and sat for a long timetalking of many things, watching the moonlight across the water. Atlast we arose to return, and Royce and Mrs. Kemball started on ahead, after a habit they had fallen into, which, now I think of it, I amsure was our junior's doing. 

"Two more days, and we'll be at Havre, " I said. "I'll be very sorry, Miss Kemball. "

"Sorry? I'd never have suspected you of such a fondness for theocean!"

"Oh, it's not the ocean!" I protested, and--what with the moonlightand the soft night and the opportunity--"the time and the place andthe loved one, all together"--would have uttered I know not whatfolly, had she not sprung suddenly forward with a sharp cry of alarm. 

"Mr. Royce!" she cried. "Mother!"

They stopped and turned toward her, just as a heavy spar crashed tothe deck before them. 

CHAPTER XV

Two Heads are Better than One

I understood in a flash what had happened, and sprang up the stair tothe upper deck, determined to have it out with our enemy, once forall. I searched it over thoroughly, looking in and under the boats andbehind funnels and ventilators, but could discover no sign of anyone. When I got back to the promenade, a little crowd had gathered, attracted by the noise of the falling spar, which a dozen members ofthe crew were busy hoisting back into place. 

"I do not see how those lashings could have worked loose, " said theofficer in charge. "We lashed that extra spar there just before wesailed, and I know it was well fastened. "

I took a look at the lashings. They had not been cut, as I expected tofind them, but had been untied. Martigny had doubtless worked at themwhile we sat there talking--he was too clever an artist in crime to doanything so clumsy as to cut the ropes. 

"Well, luckily, there's no damage done, " observed Mr. Royce, withaffected lightness, "though it was a close shave. If Miss Kemballhadn't called to us, the spar would have struck us squarely. "

Mrs. Kemball closed her eyes with a giddy little gesture, at thevision the words called up, and the officer frowned in chagrin andperplexity. Just then the captain came up, and the two stepped asidefor a consultation in voices so low that only an excited word ofFrench was now and then audible. I turned to Miss Kemball, who wasleaning against the rail with white face and eyes large with terror. 

"But it was not an accident, Mr. Lester!" she whispered. "I saw a manleaning over the spar--a mere shadowy figure--but I know I could notbe mistaken. "

I nodded. "I don't doubt it in the least. But don't tell your mother. It will only alarm her needlessly. We'll talk it over in the morning. "

She said good-night, and led her mother away toward their stateroom. Iwent at once in search of the ship's doctor, and met him at the footof the saloon staircase. 

"How is Martigny, doctor?" I asked. 

"Worse, I fear, " he answered hurriedly. "He has just sent for me. "

"Which room has he?"

"He's in 375; an outside room on the upper deck, " and he ran on up thestair. 

I went forward to the smoking room, and looked over the colored planof the ship posted there. A moment's inspection of it showed me howeasily Martigny had eluded pursuit--he had only to walk twenty feet, open a door, and get into bed again. But, evidently, even that smallexertion had been too much for him, and I turned away with the grimthought that perhaps our enemy would kill himself yet. 

When I sat down, next morning, beside Miss Kemball, she closed herbook, and turned to me with a very determined air. 

"Of course, Mr. Lester, " she began, "if you think any harm can comefrom telling me, I don't want you to say a word; but I really thinkI'm entitled to an explanation. "

"So do I, " I agreed. "You've proved yourself a better guard than I. I'd forgotten all about Martigny--I was thinking, well, of somethingvery different--I had no thought of danger. "

"Nor had I, " she said quickly. "But I chanced to look up and see thatdark figure bending over them, and I cried out, really, before I hadtime to think--involuntarily. "

"It was just that which saved them. If you'd stopped to think, itwould have been too late. "

"Yes--but, oh, I could think afterwards! I'd only to close my eyes, last night, to see him there yet, peering down at us, waiting hisopportunity. And then, of course, I puzzled more or less, over thewhole thing. "

"You shan't puzzle any more, " I said, and looked about to make certainthat there was no one near. Then, beginning with the death of HiramHolladay, I laid the case before her, step by step. She listened withclasped hands and intent face, not speaking till I had finished. Thenshe leaned back in her chair with a long sigh. 

"Why, it's horrible!" she breathed. "Horrible and dreadfully puzzling. You haven't told me your explanation yet, Mr. Lester. "

"I haven't any explanation, " I said helplessly. "I've built up half adozen theories, but they've all been knocked to pieces, one after theother. I don't know what to think, unless Miss Holladay is a victim ofhypnotism or dementia of some kind, and that seems absurd. "

"Sometimes she's nice and at other times she's horrid. It recalls'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, ' doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does; only, as I say, such an explanation seems absurd. "

She sat for a moment with eyes inwardly intent. 

"There's one theory which might explain it--part of it. Perhaps itwasn't Miss Holladay at all who returned from Washington Square withthe new maid. Perhaps it was the other woman, and the barred windowswere really to keep Miss Holladay a prisoner. Think of her there, inthat place, with Martigny for her jailer!"

"But she wasn't there!" I protested. "We saw her when we gave her themoney. Royce and I saw her--so did Mr. Graham. "

"Yes--in a darkened room, with a bandage about her forehead; so hoarseshe could scarcely speak. No wonder Mr. Royce hardly knew her!"

I stopped a moment to consider. 

"Remember, that would explain something which admits of no otherreasonable explanation, " went on my companion; "the barred windows andthe behavior of the prisoner. "

"It would explain that, certainly, " I admitted, though, at firstthought, the theory did not appeal to me. "You believe, then that MissHolladay was forcibly abducted?"

"Undoubtedly. If her mind was going to give way at all, it would havedone so at once, and not two weeks after the tragedy. "

"But if she had brooded over it, " I objected. 

"She wasn't brooding--at least, she had ceased to brood. You have Mr. Royce's word and the butler's word that she was getting better, brighter, quite like her old self again. Why should she relapse?"

"I don't know, " I said helplessly. "The more I reason about it, themore unreasonable it all seems. Besides, that affair last night hasupset me so that I can't think clearly. I feel that I wascareless--that I wasn't doing my duty. "

"I shouldn't worry about it; though, of course, " she added a littleseverely, "you've realized by this time that you alone are to blamefor Martigny's presence on the boat. "

"But I had to go to the Jourdains', " I protested, "and I couldn't helptheir going to him--to have asked them not to go would have made themsuspect me at once. "

"Oh, yes; but, at least, you needn't have sent them. They might nothave gone at all--certainly they wouldn't have gone so promptly--ifyou hadn't sent them. "

"Sent them?" I repeated, and stared at her in amazement, doubting if Ihad heard aright. 

"Yes, sent them, " she said again, emphatically. "Why do you supposethey went to the hospital so early the next morning?"

"I supposed they had become suspicious of me. "

"Nonsense! What possible reason could they have for becomingsuspicious of you. On the contrary, it was because they were _not_suspicious of you, because they wished to please you, to air your roomfor you; because, in a word, you asked them to go--they went after thekey to those padlocks on the window-shutters. Of course, Martigny hadit. "

For a moment, I was too nonplused to speak; I could only stare at her. Then I found my tongue. 

"Well, I _was_ a fool, wasn't I?" I demanded bitterly. "To think thatI shouldn't have foreseen that! I was so worked up over my discoverythat night that I couldn't think of anything else. Of course, whenthey asked for the key, the whole story came out. "

"I shouldn't blame myself too severely, " laughed Miss Kemball, as shelooked at my rueful countenance. "I myself think it's rather fortunatethat he's on the boat. "

"Fortunate? You don't mean that!"

"Precisely that. Suppose the Jourdains hadn't gone to him; he'd haveleft the hospital anyway in two or three days--he isn't the man to lieinactive when he knew you were searching for the fugitives. He'd havereturned, then, to his apartment next to yours; your landlady wouldhave told him that you had sailed for Europe, and he had only toexamine this boat's passenger-list to discover your name. So you seethere wasn't so much lost, after all. "

"But, at any rate, " I pointed out, "he would still have been inAmerica. He couldn't have caught us. We'd have had a good start ofhim. "

"He couldn't have caught you, but a cablegram would have passed you inmid-ocean, warning his confederates. If they have time to concealtheir prisoner, you'll never find her--your only hope is in catchingthem unprepared. And there's another reason--since he's on the boat, you've another opportunity--why not go and have a talk with him--thatbattle of wits you were looking forward to?"

"I'd thought of that, " I said; "but I'm afraid I couldn't play thepart. "

"The part?"

"Of seeming not to suspect him, of being quite frank and open withhim, of appearing to tell him all my plans. I'm afraid he'd seethrough me in the first moment and catch me tripping. It's too great arisk. "

"The advantage would be on your side, " she pointed out; "you couldtell him so many things which he already knows, and which he has noreason to suspect you know he knows--it sounds terribly involved, doesn't it? But you understand?"

"Oh, yes; I understand. "

"And then, it would be the natural thing for you to look him up assoon as you learned he was ill. To avoid him will be to confess thatyou suspect him. "

"But his name isn't on the passenger list. If I hadn't happened to seehim as he came on board, I'd probably not have known it at all. "

"Perhaps he saw you at the same time. "

"Then the fat's in the fire, " I said. "If he knows I know he's onboard, then he also knows that I suspect him; if he doesn't know, why, there's no reason for him to think that I'll find it out, unless heappears in the cabin; which doesn't seem probable. "

She sat silent for a moment, looking out across the water. 

"Perhaps you're right, " she said at last; "there's no use taking anyunnecessary risks. The thing appealed to me--I think I should enjoy ahalf-hour's talk with him, matching my wits against his. "

"But yours are brighter than mine, " I pointed out. "You've proved itpretty effectually in the last few minutes. "

"No I haven't; I've simply shown you that you overlooked one littlething. And I think you're right about the danger of going to Martigny. Our first duty is to Miss Holladay; we must rescue her before he canwarn his confederates to place her out of our reach. "

The unstudied way in which she said "our" filled me with anunreasoning happiness. 

"But why should they bother with a prisoner at all? They didn't shrinkfrom striking down her father?"

"And they may not shrink from striking her down, at a favorablemoment, " she answered calmly. "It will be easier in France than in NewYork--they perhaps have the necessary preparations already made--theymay be only hesitating--a warning from Martigny may turn the scale. "

My hands were trembling at the thought of it. If we should really betoo late!

"But I don't believe they'll go to such extremes, Mr. Lester, "continued my companion. "I believe you're going to find her and solvethe mystery. My theory doesn't solve it, you know; it only makes itdeeper. The mystery, after all, is--who are these people?--why didthey kill Mr. Holladay?--why have they abducted his daughter?--what istheir plot?"

"Yes, " I assented; and again I had a moment of confused perplexity, asof a man staring down into a black abyss. 

"But after you find her, " she asked, "what will you do with her?"

"Do with her? Why, take her home, of course. "

"But she'll very probably be broken down, perhaps even on the verge ofhysteria. Such an experience would upset any woman, I don't care howrobust she may have been. She'll need rest and care. You must bringher to us at Paris, Mr. Lester. "

I saw the wisdom of her words, and said so. 

"That's very kind of you, " I added. "I am sure Mr. Royce willagree--but we have first to find her, Miss Kemball. "

I was glad for my own sake, too; the parting of to-morrow would not, then, be a final one. I should see her again. I tried to say somethingof this, but my tongue faltered and refused to shape the words. 

She left me, presently, and for an hour or more I sat there andlooked, in every aspect, at the theory she had suggested. Certainly, there was nothing to disprove it; and yet, as she had said, it merelyserved to deepen the mystery. Who were these people, I asked myselfagain, who dared to play so bold and desperate a game? Theillegitimate daughter might, of course, impersonate Miss Holladay; butwho was the elder woman? Her mother? Then the liaison must have takenplace in France--her accent was not to be mistaken; but in France Mr. Holladay had been always with his wife. Besides, the younger womanspoke English perfectly. True, she had said only a few words--thehoarseness might have been affected to conceal a difference invoice--but how explain the elder woman's resemblance to HiramHolladay's daughter? Could they both be illegitimate? But that wasnonsense, for Mrs. Holladay had taken her into her life, had lovedher----

And Martigny? Who was he? What was his connection with these women?That the crime had been carefully planned I could not doubt; and ithad been carried out with surprising skill. There had been no nervoushalting at the supreme moments, no hesitation nor drawing back;instead, a coolness of execution almost fiendish, arguing a hardenedand practiced hand. 

Doubtless it was Martigny who had arranged the plot, who had managedits development. And with what boldness! He had not feared to bepresent at the inquest; nor even to approach me and discuss the casewith me. I tried to recall the details of our talk, impatient that Ihad paid so little heed to it. He had asked, I remembered, what wouldhappen to Frances Holladay if she were found guilty. He had beenanxious, then, to save her. He had--yes, I saw it now!--he hadwritten the note which did save her; he had run the risk of discoveryto get her free!

But why?

If I only had a clew; one thread to follow! One ray of light would beenough! Then I could see my way out of this hopeless tangle; I shouldknow how to strike. But to stumble blindly onward in the dark--thatmight do more harm than good. 

Yes, and there was another thing for me to guard against. What was toprevent him, the moment he stepped ashore, wiring to his confederates, warning them, telling them to flee? Or he might wait, watching us, until he saw that they were really in danger. In either event, theymust easily escape; Miss Kemball had been right when she pointed outthat our only hope was in catching them unprepared. If I could throwhim off, deceive him, convince him that there was no danger!

The impulse was too strong to be resisted. In a moment I was on myfeet--but, no--to surprise him would be to make him suspect! I calleda steward. 

"Take this card up to Monsieur Martigny, " I said, "in 375, and ask ifhe is well enough to see me. "

As he hurried away, a sudden doubt seized me; horrified at myhardihood, I opened my mouth to call him back. But I did not call:instead, I sank back into my chair and stared out across the water. Had I done well? Was it wise to tempt Providence? Would I prove amatch for my enemy? The next half hour would tell. Perhaps he wouldnot see me; he could plead illness; he might be really too ill. 

"Monsieur Martigny, " said the steward's voice at my elbow, "answersthat he will be most pleased to see Monsieur Lester at once. "

CHAPTER XVI

I Beard the Lion

Martigny was lying back in his berth, smoking a cigarette, and, as Ientered, he motioned me to a seat on the locker against the wall. 

"It was most kind of you to come, " he said, with his old smile. 

"It was only by accident I learned you were on board, " I explained, asI sat down. "You're getting better?"

"I believe so; though this physician is--what you call--analarmist--most of them are, indeed; the more desperate the illness, the more renowned the cure! Is it not so? He has even forbidden mecigarettes, but I prefer to die than to do without them. Will you nothave one?" and he motioned to the pile that lay beside him. 

"Thank you, " I said, selected one, and lighted it. "Your cigarettesare not to be resisted. But if you are so ill, why did you attemptthe voyage? Was it not imprudent?"

"A sudden call of business, " he explained airily; "unexpectedbut--what you call--imperative. Besides, this bed is the same as anyother. You see, I have a week of rest. "

"The doctor--it was he who mentioned your name to me--it was not onthe sailing-list----"

"No. " He was looking at me sharply. "I came on board at the lastmoment--the need was ver' sudden, as I have said. I had not time toengage a stateroom. "

"That explains it. Well, the doctor told me that you were bed-fast. "

"Yes--since the voyage began I have not left it. I shall not ariseuntil we reach Havre to-morrow. "

I watched him as he went through the familiar motion of lighting asecond cigarette from the first one. In the half-light of the cabin, I had not at first perceived how ill he looked; now, I saw the darkpatches under the eyes, the livid and flabby face, the shaking hand. And for the first time, with a little shock, I realized how near hehad been to death. 

"But you, Mistair Lester, " he was saying, "how does it occur that youalso are going to France? I did not know you contemplated----"

"No, " I answered calmly, for I had seen that the question wasinevitable and I even welcomed it, since it gave me opportunity to getmy guns to going. "No; the last time I saw you, I didn't contemplateit, but a good deal has happened since then. Would you care to hear?Are you strong enough to talk?"

Oh, how I relished tantalizing him!

"I should like very exceedingly to hear, " he assured me, and shiftedhis position a little, so that his face was in the shadow. "The beamsof light through the shutter make my eyes to hurt, " he added. 

So he mistrusted himself; so he was not finding the part an easy one, either! The thought gave me new courage, new audacity. 

"You may remember, " I began, "that I told you once that if I ever wentto work on the Holladay case, I'd try first to find the murderess. Isucceeded in doing it the very first day. "

"Ah!" he breathed. "And after the police had failed! That was, indeed, remarkable. How did you accomplish it?"

"By the merest chance--by great good fortune. I was making a search ofthe French quarter, house by house, when, on Houston Street, I came toa restaurant, the Café Jourdain. A bottle of supérieur set Jourdain'stongue to wagging; I pretended I wanted a room; he dropped a word, themerest hint; and, in the end, I got the whole story. It seems therewas not only one woman, there were two. "

"Yes?"

"Yes--and a man whose name was Betuny or Bethune, or something likethat. But I didn't pay much attention to him--he doesn't figure in thecase. He didn't even go away with the women. The very day I set out onmy search, he was picked up on the streets somewhere suffering withapoplexy and taken to a hospital, so nearly dead that it was aquestion whether he would recover. So he's out of it. The Jourdainstold me that the women had sailed for France. "

"You will pardon me, " said my hearer, "but in what way did you makesure that they were the women you desired?"

"By the younger one's resemblance to Miss Holladay, " I answered, lyingwith a glibness which surprised myself. "The Jourdains maintained thata photograph of Miss Holladay was really one of their lodger. "

I heard him draw a deep breath, but he kept his face under admirablecontrol. 

"Ah, yes, " he said. "That was exceedingly clever. I should never havethought of that. That is worthy of Monsieur Lecoq. And so you followthem to France--but, surely, you have some more--what youcall--definite address than that, Mistair Lester!"

I could feel his eyes burning out from the shadows; I was thankful forthe cigarette--it helped me to preserve an indifferent countenance. 

"No, " I said. "It seems rather a wild-goose chase, doesn't it? But youcould advise me, Mr. Martigny. Where would it be best for me to searchfor them?"

He did not answer for a moment, and I took advantage of theopportunity to select a second cigarette and light it. I dared notremain unoccupied; I dared not meet his eyes; I trembled to see thatmy hand was not wholly steady. 

"That, " he began slowly, at last, "seems to me a most--ah!--deeficultaffair, Mistair Lester. To search for three people through allFrance--there seems little hope of success. Yet I should think it mostlikely that they have gone to Paris. "

I nodded. "That was my own theory, " I agreed. "But to find them inParis, seems also impossible. "

"Not if one uses the police, " he said. "It could, most probably, besoon achieved, if you requested the police to assist you. "

"But, my dear sir, " I protested. "I can't use the police. MissHolladay, at least, has committed no crime; she has simply chosen togo away without informing us. "

"You will permit me to say, then, Mistair Lester, " he observed, withjust a touch of irony, "that I fail to comprehend your anxietyconcerning her. "

I felt that I had made a mis-step; that I had need to go carefully. 

"It is not quite so simple as that, " I explained. "The last time wesaw Miss Holladay, she told us that she was ill, and intended to go toher country home for a rest. Instead of going there, she sailed forFrance, without informing anyone--indeed, doing everything she couldto escape detection. That conduct seems so eccentric that we feel induty bound to investigate it. Besides, two days before she left shereceived from us a hundred thousand dollars in cash. "

I saw him move uneasily on his bed; after all, this advantage of minewas no small one. No wonder he grew restless under this revelation ofsecrets which were not secrets!

"Ah!" he said softly; and again, "Ah! Yes, that seems peculiar. Yet, perhaps, if you had waited for a letter----"

"Suppose we had waited, and there had been no letter--suppose, inconsequence of waiting, we should be too late?"

"Too late? Too late for what, Mistair Lester? What is it you fear forher?"

"I don't know, " I answered; "but something--something. At least, wecould not assume the responsibility of delay. "

"No, " he agreed; "perhaps not. You are doubtless quite right toinvestigate. I wish you success--I wish that I myself might aid you, there is so much of interest in the case to me; but I fear that to beimpossible. I must rest--I who have so many affairs calling me, solittle desire to rest! Is not the fate ironical?"

And he breathed a sigh, which was doubtless genuine enough. 

"Will you go to Paris?" I asked. 

"Oh, no; not at once. At Havre I shall meet my agent and transact myaffairs with him. Then I shall seek some place of quiet along thecoast. "

"Yes, " I said to myself, with leaping heart, "Etretat!" But I darednot speak the word. 

"I shall write to you, " he added, "when I have settled. Where do youstay at Paris?"

"We haven't decided yet, " I said. 

"We?" he repeated. 

"Didn't I tell you? Mr. Royce, our junior partner, is with me--he'shad a breakdown in health, too, and needed a rest. "

"It is no matter where you stay, " he said; "I shall write to you atthe _poste restante_. I should like both you and your friend to be myguests before you return to Amer-ric'. "

There was a courtesy, a cordiality in his tone which almost disarmedme. Such a finished scoundrel! It seemed a shame that I couldn't befriends with him, for I enjoyed him so thoroughly. 

"We shall be glad to accept, " I answered, knowing in my heart that theinvitation would never be made. "You're very kind. "

He waved his hand deprecatingly, then let it fall upon the bed with agesture of weariness. I recognized the sign of dismissal. I was readyto go; I had accomplished all I could hope to accomplish; if I hadnot already disarmed his suspicions, I could never do so. 

"I am tiring you!" I said, starting up. "How thoughtless of me!"

"No, " he protested; "no"; but his voice was almost inaudible. 

"I will go, " I said. "You must pardon me. I hope you will soon bebetter, " and I closed the door behind me with his murmured thanks inmy ears. 

It was not till after dinner that I found opportunity to relate toMiss Kemball the details of my talk with Martigny. She listenedquietly until I had finished; then she looked at me smilingly. 

"Why did you change your mind?" she asked. 

"The adventure tempted me--those are your own words. I thought perhapsI might be able to throw Martigny off the track. "

"And do you think you succeeded?"

"I don't know, " I answered doubtfully. "He may have seen clear throughme. "

"Oh, I don't believe him superhuman! I believe you succeeded. "

"We shall know to-morrow, " I suggested. 

"Yes--and you must keep up the deception till the last moment. Remember, he will be watching you. He mustn't see you take the trainfor Etretat. "

"I'll do my best, " I said. 

"And don't make mountains out of mole-hills. You see, you've beendistrusting yourself needlessly. One mustn't be too timid!"

"Do you think I'm too timid?" I demanded, eager instantly to prove thecontrary. 

But she saw the light in my eyes, I suppose, for she drew away, almostimperceptibly. 

"Only in some things, " she retorted, and silenced me. 

The evening passed and the last day came. We sighted land soon afterbreakfast--the high white cliffs of Cape La Hague--vague at first, butslowly lifting as we plowed on into the bay, with the crowded roofs ofHavre far ahead. 

I was standing at the rail beside Miss Kemball, filled with thethought of our imminent good-by, when she turned to me suddenly. 

"Don't forget Martigny, " she cautioned. "Wouldn't you better see himagain?"

"I thought I'd wait till we landed, " I said; "then I can help him offthe boat and see him well away from the station. He's too ill to bevery lively on his feet. We shouldn't have any trouble dodging him. "

"Yes; and be careful. He mustn't suspect Etretat. But look at thatclump of houses yonder--aren't they picturesque?"

They _were_ picturesque, with their high red roofs and yellow gablesand striped awnings; yet I didn't care to look at them. I was glad toperceive what a complicated business it was, getting our boat to thequay, for I was jealous of every minute; but it was finallyaccomplished in the explosive French manner, and after a further shortdelay the gang-plank was run out. 

"And now, " said my companion, holding out her hand, "we must saygood-by. "

"Indeed, not!" I protested. "See, there go your mother and Royce. They're evidently expecting us to follow. We'll have to help you withyour baggage. "

"Our baggage goes through to Paris--we make our declarations there. "

"At least, I must take you to the train. "

"You are risking everything!" she cried. "We can say good-by here aswell as on the platform. "

"I don't think so, " I said. 

"I have already said good-by to all my other friends!"

"But I refuse to be treated just like all the others, " and I startedwith her down the gang-plank. 

She looked at me from the corner of her eyes, her lips tremblingbetween indignation and amusement. 

"Do you know, " she said deliberately, "I am beginning to fear that youare obstinate, and I abhor obstinate people. "

"I'm not at all obstinate, " I objected. "I'm simply contending for myrights. "

"Your rights?"

"My right to be with you as long as I can, for one. "

"Are there others?"

"Many others. Shall I enumerate them?"

"No, " she said, "we haven't time. Here is mother. "

They were to take the company's special train to Paris, which waswaiting on the wharf, two hundred feet away, and we slowly pushed ourway toward it. In the clamor and hurry and confusion wholly Latin, there was no chance for intelligent converse. The place was swarmingwith people, each of them, as it seemed to me, on the verge ofhysteria. Someone, somewhere, was shouting "_En voiture!_" in astentorian voice. Suddenly, we found our way blocked by a uniformedofficial, who demanded to see our tickets. 

"You can't come any farther, I'm afraid, " said Mrs. Kemball, turningto us. "We'll have to say good-by, " and she held out her hand. "Butwe'll soon see you both again in Paris. You have the address?"

"Oh, yes!" I assured her; I felt that there was no danger of my everforgetting it. 

"Very well, then; we shall look for you, " and she shook hands withboth of us. 

For an instant, I felt another little hand in mine, a pair of blueeyes smiled up at me in a way----

"Good-by, Mr. Lester, " said a voice. "I shall be all impatience tillwe meet again. "

"So shall I, " and I brightened. "That was nice of you, Miss Kemball. "

"Oh, I shall be anxious to hear how you succeeded, " she retorted. "Youwill bring Miss Holladay to us?"

"If we find her, yes. "

"Then, again, good-by. "

She waved her hand, smiling, and was lost in the crowd. 

"Come on, Lester, " said Mr. Royce's voice. "There's no use standingstaring here. We've got our own journey to look after, " and he startedback along the platform. 

Then, suddenly, I remembered Martigny. 

"I'll be back in a minute, " I called, and ran up the gang-plank. "HasM. Martigny left the ship yet?" I inquired of the first steward I met. 

"Martigny?" he repeated. "Martigny? Let me see. "

"The sick gentleman in 375, " I prompted. 

"Oh, yes, " he said. "I do not know, monsieur. "

"Well, no matter. I'll find out myself. "

I mounted to the upper deck, and knocked at the door of 375. There wasno response. After a moment, I tried the door, but it was locked. Thewindow, however, was partly open, and, shading my eyes with my hands, I peered inside. The stateroom was empty. 

A kind of panic seized me as I turned away. Had he, indeed, seenthrough my artifice? In attempting to blind him, had I merelyuncovered my own plan? Or--and my cheeks burned at the thought!--washe so well intrenched that he had no fear of me? Were his plans sowell laid that it mattered not to him whither I went or what I did?After all, I had no assurance of success at Etretat--no proof that thefugitives had gone there--no reasonable grounds to believe that weshould find them. Perhaps, indeed, Paris would be a better place tolook for them; perhaps Martigny's advice had really been well meant. 

I passed a moment of heart-rending uncertainty; I saw quite clearlywhat a little, little chance of success we had. But I shook thefeeling off, sought the lower deck, and inquired again for Martigny. At last, the ship's doctor told me that he had seen the sick mansafely to a carriage, and had heard him order the driver to proceed tothe Hotel Continental. 

"And, frankly, Mr. Lester, " added the doctor, "I am glad to be so wellrid of him. It is most fortunate that he did not die on the voyage. Inmy opinion, he is very near the end. "

I turned away with a lighter heart. From a dying man there could notbe much to fear. So I hunted up Mr. Royce, and found him, finally, endeavoring to extract some information from a supercilious officialin a gold-laced uniform. 

It was, it seemed, a somewhat complicated proceeding to get toEtretat. In half an hour, a train would leave for Beuzeville, where wemust transfer to another line to Les Ifs; there a second transferwould be necessary before we could reach our destination. How longwould it take? Our informant shrugged his shoulders with finenonchalance. It was impossible to say. There had been a heavy stormtwo days before, which had blown down wires and damaged the littlespur of track between Les Ifs and the sea. Trains were doubtlessrunning again over the branch, but we could not, probably, reachEtretat before morning. 

Amid this jumble of uncertainties, one definite fact remained--a trainwas to leave in half an hour, which we must take. So we hurried backto the boat, made our declaration, had our boxes examinedperfunctorily and passed, bought our tickets, saw our baggagetransferred, tipped a dozen people, more or less, and finally wereshut into a compartment two minutes before the hour. 

Then, in that first moment of inactivity, the fear of Martigny cameback upon me. Had he really gone to the hotel? Had he deemed us notworth watching? Or had he watched? Was he on the train with us? Was heable to follow? The more I thought of him, the more I doubted myability to deceive him. 

I looked out cautiously from the window, up and down the platform, butsaw no sign of him, and in a moment more we rattled slowly away overthe switches. I sank back into my seat with a sigh of relief. PerhapsI had really blinded him!

An hour's run brought us to Beuzeville, where we were dumped out, together with our luggage, in a little frame station. An officialinformed us that we must wait there three hours for the train for LesIfs. Beyond that? He could not say. We might possibly reach Etretatnext day. 

"How far is Les Ifs from here?" inquired my companion. 

"About twelve kilometers, monsieur. "

"And from there to Etretat?"

"Is twenty kilometers more, monsieur. "

"Thirty-two kilometers altogether, " said Mr. Royce. "That's abouttwenty miles. Why can't we drive, Lester? We ought to cover it easilyin three hours--four at the most. "

Certainly it seemed better than waiting on the uncertain railway, andwe set at once about the work of finding a vehicle. I could be oflittle use, since English was an unknown tongue at Beuzeville, andeven Mr. Royce's French was sorely taxed, but we succeeded at last insecuring a horse and light trap, together with a driver who claimed toknow the road. All this had taken time, and the sun was setting whenwe finally drove away northward. 

The road was smooth and level--they manage their road-making better inFrance--and we bowled along at a good rate past cultivated fields withlittle dwellings like doll-houses dotted here and there. Occasionallywe passed a man or woman trudging along the road, but as the darknessdeepened, it became more and more deserted. In an hour and a half fromBeuzeville we reached Les Ifs, and here we stopped for a light supper. We had cause to congratulate ourselves that we had secured a vehicleat Beuzeville, for we learned that no train would start for Etretatuntil morning. The damage wrought by the storm of two days before hadnot yet been repaired, the wires were still down, and we were warnedthat the road was badly washed in places. 

Luckily for us, the moon soon arose, so that we got forward withoutmuch difficulty, though slowly; and an hour before midnight we pulledup triumphantly before the Hotel Blanquet, the principal inn ofEtretat. We lost no time in getting to bed; for we wished to be upbetimes in the morning, and I fell asleep with the comforting beliefthat we had at last eluded Monsieur Martigny. 

CHAPTER XVII

Etretat

We were up at an hour which astonished the little fat keeper of theinn, and inquired the location of the office of the registrar ofbirths. It was two steps away in the Rue Alphonse Karr, but would notbe open for three hours, at least. Would messieurs have their coffeenow? No, messieurs would not have their coffee until they returned. Where would they find the residence of the registrar of births? Hisresidence, that was another matter. His residence was some littledistance away, near the Casino, at the right--we should ask for MâitreFingret--anyone could tell us. When should messieurs be expected toreturn? It was impossible to say. 

We set off along the street, leaving the inn-keeper staring afterus--along the Rue Alphonse Karr, lined on both sides by houses, eachwith its little shop on the ground floor. Three minutes' walk broughtus to the bay, a pretty, even picturesque place, with itsperpendicular cliffs and gayly-colored fishing-smacks. But we pausedfor only a glance at it, and turned toward the Casino at the otherend. "Mâitre Fingret?" we inquired of the first passer-by, and hepointed us to a little house, half-hidden in vines. 

A knock brought the notary himself to the door, a little dried-up man, with keen face, and eyes incredibly bright. My companion explained ourerrand in laborious French, supplemented by much gesticulation--it iswonderful how the hands can help one to talk!--and after a time thelittle Frenchman caught his meaning, and bustled away to get his hatand coat, scenting a fat fee. Our first step was to be an easy one, thanks to the severity and thoroughness of French administration, butI admit that I saw not what we should do further, once we hadverified the date of Miss Holladay's birth. The next step must be leftto chance. 

The notary unlocked the door, showed us into his office, and set outchairs for us. Then he got down his register of births for 1876. Itwas not a large book, for the births at Etretat are not overwhelmingin number. 

"The name, I think you said, was Holladay?" he asked. 

"Hiram W. Holladay, " nodded Mr. Royce. 

"And the date June 10th?"

"Yes--June 10th. "

The little man ran his finger rapidly down the page, then went backagain and read the entries one by one more slowly, with a pucker ofperplexity about his lips. He turned the leaf, began farther back, andread through the list again, while we sat watching him. At last heshut the book with a little snap and looked up at us. 

"Messieurs, " he said quietly, "no such birth is recorded here. I haveexamined the record for the months of May, June, and July. "

"But it must be there!" protested Mr. Royce. 

"Nevertheless it is not here, monsieur. "

"Could the child have been born here and no record made of it?"

"Impossible, monsieur. No physician in France would take thatresponsibility. "

"For a large fee, perhaps, " suggested my companion. 

"In Paris that may, sometimes, be possible. But in a small place likethis, I should have heard of it, and it would have been my duty toinvestigate. "

"You have been here for that length of time, then?"

"Oh, yes, monsieur, " smiled the little man. "For a much longer timethan that. "

Mr. Royce leaned forward toward him. He was getting back all his oldpower as a cross-examiner. 

"Monsieur Fingret, " he began impressively, "I am quite certain thatHiram W. Holladay and his wife were here during the months of May, June, and July, 1876, and that while they were here a daughter wasborn to them. Think again--have you no recollection of them or of theevent?"

The little notary sat for some moments with knitted brows. At last heshook his head. 

"That would be the height of the season, you see, monsieur, " he saidapologetically. "There are a great many people here, at that time, andI cannot know all of them. Nevertheless, it seemed to me for a momentthat there was about the name a certain familiarity--as of an oldtune, you know, forgotten for years. Yet it must have been my fancymerely, for I have no recollection of the event you mention. I cannotbelieve that such a birth took place at Etretat. "

There was one other chance, and I gave Mr. Royce the clew. 

"Monsieur Fingret, " he asked, "are you acquainted with a man by thename of Pierre Bethune?"

And again the notary shook his head. 

"Or Jasper Martigny?"

"I never before heard either name, monsieur, " he answered. 

We sat silent a moment, in despair. Was our trip to Etretat to be ofno avail? Where was my premonition, now? If we had lost the trail thusearly in the chase, what hope was there that we should ever run downthe quarry? And how explain the fact that no record had been made ofFrances Holladay's birth? Why should her parents have wished toconceal it? Would they not naturally have been anxious to see that itwas properly recorded?

An hour had passed; the shops were opening, and a bustle of lifereached us through the open door. People began to pass by twos andthrees. 

"The first train for three days is about to arrive, " said the littlenotary. "You see, this is a very small town, messieurs. The arrivalof a train is an event. "

Again we fell silent. Mr. Royce got out his purse and paid the fee. Wehad come to an _impasse_--a closed way, we could go no farther. Icould see that the notary was a-hungered for his roll and coffee. Witha sigh, I arose to go. The notary stepped to the door and looked upthe street. 

"Ah, " he said, "the train has arrived, but it seems there were notmany passengers. Here is one, though, who has finished a longjourney. "

He nodded to someone who approached slowly, it seemed. He was beforethe door--he passed on--it was Martigny!

"That is the man!" I cried to Mr. Royce. "That is Martigny! Ask who hereally is. "

He understood on the instant, and caught the notary's arm. 

"Monsieur Fingret, who is that man?"

The notary glanced at him, surprised by his vehemence. 

"That, " he said, "is Victor Fajolle. He is just home from America andseems very ill, poor fellow. "

"And he lives here?"

"Oh, surely; on the cliffs just above the town--the first house--youcannot miss it--buried in a grove of trees. He married the daughter ofMadame Alix some years ago--he was from Paris. "

"And his wife is living?"

"Oh, surely, she is living; she herself returned from America butthree weeks ago, together with her mother and sister. The sister, theysay, is--well----" and he finished with a significant gesture towardhis head. 

I saw my companion's face turn white--I steadied myself with aneffort. I knew that, at last, the veil was to be lifted. 

"And they are at home now?"

"I believe so, " said the notary, eying him with more and moreastonishment. "They have been keeping close at home since theirreturn--they will permit no one to see the--invalid. There has beenmuch talk about it. "

"Come, we must go!" I cried. "He must not get there before us!"

But a sudden light gleamed in the notary's eyes. 

"Wait, messieurs!" he cried. "A moment. But a moment. Ah, I rememberit now--it was the link which was wanting, and you have suppliedit--Holladay, a millionaire of America, his wife, Madame Alix--she didnot live in the villa, then, messieurs. Oh, no; she was very poor, anurse--anything to make a little money; her husband, who was afisherman, was drowned, and left her to take care of the children asbest she could. Ah, I remember--one a mere baby!"

He had got down another book, and was running his finger rapidly downthe page--his finger all a-tremble with excitement. Suddenly, hestopped with a little cry of triumph. 

"Here it is, messieurs! I knew I could not be mistaken! See!"

Under the date of June 10, 1876, was an entry of which this is theEnglish:

"Holladay, Hiram W. , and Elizabeth, his wife, of the city of New York, United States of America; from Céleste Alix, widow of Auguste Alix, her daughter Céleste, aged five months. All claim surrendered inconsideration of the payment of 25, 000 francs. "

Mr. Royce caught up the book and glanced at the back. It was the"Record of Adoptions. "

CHAPTER XVIII

The Veil is Lifted

In a moment we were hurrying along the street, in the direction thenotary had pointed out to us. Martigny was already out of sight, andwe had need of haste. My head was in a whirl. So Frances Holladay wasnot really the daughter of the dead millionaire! The thought compelleda complete readjustment of my point of view. Of course, she waslegally his daughter; equally of course, this new development couldmake no difference in my companion's feeling for her. Nothing, then, was really changed. She must go back with us; she must take up the oldlife----But I had no time to reason it all out. 

We had reached the beach again, and we turned along it in thedirection of the cliffs. Far ahead, I saw a man hurrying in the samedirection--I could guess at what agony and danger to himself. Thepath began to ascend, and we panted up it to the grassy down, whichseemed to stretch for miles and miles to the northward. Right beforeus was a little wood, in the midst of which I caught a glimpse of afarmhouse. 

We ran toward it, through a gate, and up the path to the door. It wasclosed, but we heard from within a man's excited voice--a resonantvoice which I knew well. I tried the door; it yielded, and we steppedinto the hall. The voice came from the room at the right. It was notime for hesitation--we sprang to the door and entered. 

Martigny was standing in the middle of the floor, fairly foaming atthe mouth, shrieking out commands and imprecations at two women whocowered in the farther corner. The elder one I knew at a glance--theyounger--my heart leaped as I looked at her--was it Miss Holladay? No, yet strangely like. 

He saw their startled eyes turn past him to us, and swung sharplyround. For an instant he stood poised like a serpent about to strike, then I saw his eyes fix in a frightful stare, his face turned livid, and with a strangled cry, he fell back and down. Together we liftedhim to the low window-seat, pursuers and pursued alike, loosened hiscollar, chafed his hands, bathed his temples, did everything we couldthink of doing; but he lay there staring at the ceiling with clenchedteeth. At last Royce bent and laid his ear against his breast. Then hearose and turned gently to the women. 

"It is no use, " he said. "He is dead. "

I looked to see them wince under the blow; but they did not. Theyounger woman went slowly to the window and stood there sobbingquietly; the other's face lit up with a positive blaze of joy. 

"So, " she exclaimed, in that low, vibrant voice I so well remembered, "so he is dead! That treacherous, cruel heart has burst at last!"

Royce gazed at her a moment in astonishment. She looked not at him, but at the dead man on the window-seat, her hands clasping andunclasping. 

"Madame Alix, " he said, at last, "you know our errand--we must carryit out. "

She bowed her head. 

"I know it, monsieur, " she answered. "But for him, there would havebeen no such errand. As it is, I will help you all I can. Cécile, " shecalled to the woman at the window, "go and bring your sister to thesegentlemen. "

The younger woman dried her eyes and left the room. We waited in tensesilence, our eyes on the door. We heard the sound of footsteps on thestair; a moment, and she was on the threshold. 

She came in slowly, listlessly--it gave me a shock to see the pallorof her face. Then she glanced up and saw Royce standing there; shedrew in her breath with a quick gasp, a great wave of color sweptover her cheeks and brow, a great light sprang into her eyes. 

"Oh, John!" she cried, and swayed toward him. 

He had her in his arms, against his heart, and the glad tears sprangto my eyes as I looked at them. I glanced at the elder woman, and sawthat her eyes were shining and her lips quivering. 

"And I have come to take you away, my love, " he was saying. 

"Oh, yes; take me away, " she sobbed, "before the other comes. "

She stopped, her eyes on the window-seat, where "the other" lay, andthe color died out of her cheeks again. 

"He, at least, has paid the penalty, " said Royce. "He can trouble youno more, my love. "

She was sobbing helplessly upon his shoulder, but as the momentspassed she grew more calm, and at last stood upright from him. Theyounger woman had come back into the room, and was watching hercuriously, with no trace of emotion. 

"Come, let us go, " said the girl. "We must take the first boat home. "

But Royce held back. 

"There has been a crime committed, " he said slowly. "We must see thatit is punished. "

"A crime? Oh, yes; but I forgive them, dear. "

"The crime against yourself you may forgive; but there was anothercrime--murder----"

"There was no murder!" burst in Cécile Alix. "I swear it to you, monsieur. Do you understand? There was no murder!"

I saw Miss Holladay wince at the other's voice, and Royce saw it, too. 

"I must get her to the inn, " he said. "This is more than she canbear--I fear she will break down utterly. Do you stay and get thestory, Lester. Then we'll decide what it is best to do. "

He led her away, out of the house and down the path, not once lookingback. I watched them till the trees hid them, and then turned to thewomen. 

"Now, " I said, "I shall be happy to hear the story. "

"It was that man yonder who was the cause of it all, " began themother, clasping her hands tightly in her lap to keep them still. "Four years ago he came from Paris here to spend the summer--he wasver' ill--his heart. We had been living happily, my daughter and I, but for the one anxiety of her not marrying. He met her and proposedmarriage. He was ver' good--he asked no dowry, and, besides, mydaughter was twenty-five years old--past her first youth. But sheattracted him, and they were married. He took her back to Paris, wherehe had a little theater, a hall of the dance--but he grew worse again, and came back here. It was then that he found out that I had anotherdaughter, whom I had given to a rich American. I was ver' poor, monsieur, " she added piteously. "My man had died--"

"Yes, madame, I know, " I said, touched by her emotion. Plainly she wastelling the truth. 

"So he wrote to friends in Amérique, and made questions about MonsieurHolladay. He learned--oh, he learned that he was ver' rich--what youcall a man of millions--and that his daughter--my daughter, monsieur--was living still. From that moment, he was like a manpossessed. At once he formed his plan, building I know not what hopesupon it. He drilled us for two years in speaking the English; he tookus for six months to Londres that we might better learn. Day after daywe took our lessons there--always and always English. Cécile learnedver' well, monsieur; but I not so well, as you can see--I was tooold. Then, at last we reached New York, and my daughter--thisone--was sent to see Monsieur Holladay, while I was directed that Iwrite to Céleste--to Mademoiselle Holladay. She came that ver'afternoon, " she continued, "and I told her that it was I who was hermother. He was with me, and displayed to her the papers of adoption. She could not but be convinced. He talked to her as an angel--oh, hecould seem one when he chose!--he told her that I was in poverty--hemade her to weep, which was what he desired. She promised to bring usmoney; she was ver' good; my heart went out to her. Then, just as shehad arisen to start homeward, in Céleste came, crying, sobbing, stained with blood. "

She shuddered and clasped her hands before her eyes. 

"But you have said it was not murder, madame, " I said to the youngerwoman. 

"Nor was it!" she cried. "Let me tell you, monsieur. I reached thegreat building, which my husband had already pointed out to me; Iwent up in the lift; I entered the office, but saw no one. I went onthrough an open door and saw an old man sitting at a desk. I inquiredif Mr. Holladay was there. The old man glanced at me and bowed towardanother door. I saw it was a private office and entered it. The doorswung shut behind me. There was another old man sitting at a desk, sharpening a pencil. "

"'Is it you, Frances?' he asked. 

"'No, ' I said, stepping before him. 'It is her sister, MonsieurHolladay!'

"He stared up at me with such a look of dismay and anger on his facethat I was fairly frightened; then, in the same instant, before Icould draw breath, before I could say another word, his face grewpurple, monsieur, and he fell forward on his desk, on his hand, on theknife, which was clasped in it. I tried to check the blood, but couldnot, it poured forth in such a stream. I knew not what to do; I wasdistracted, and in a frenzy, I left the place and hurried to ourlodgings. That is the truth, monsieur; believe me. "

"I do believe you, " I said; and she turned again to the window to hideher tears. 

"It was then, " went on her mother, "that that man yonder had anotherinspiration. Before it had been only--what you call--blackmail--a fewthousands, perhaps a pension; now it was something more--he wasplaying for a greater stake. I do not know all that he planned. Hefound Céleste suspected of having killed her father; he must get herreleased at any cost; so he wrote a note----"

"Yes, " I cried. "Yes, of course; I see. Miss Holladay under arrest wasbeyond his reach. "

"Yes, " she nodded, "so he wrote a note--oh, you should have seen himin those days! He was like some furious wild beast. But after she wasset free, Céleste did not come to us as she had promise'. We saw thatshe suspected us, that she wish' to have nothing more to do with us;so Victor commanded that I write another letter, imploring her, offering to explain. " She stopped a moment to control herself. "Ah, when I think of it! She came, monsieur. We took from her her gown andput it on Cécile. She never left the place again until the carriagestopped to take her to the boat. As for us--we were his slaves--heguided each step--he seemed to think of everything--to be prepared foreverything--he planned and planned. "

There was no need that she should tell me more--the whole plot laybare before me--simple enough, now that I understood it, and carriedout with what consummate finish!

"One thing more, " I said. "The gold. "

She drew a key from her pocket and gave it to me. 

"It is in a box upstairs, " she said. "This is the key. We have nottouched it. "

I took the key and followed her to the floor above. The box, of heavyoak bound with iron, with steamship and express labels fresh upon it, stood in one corner. I unlocked it and threw back the lid. Packageupon package lay in it, just as they had come from the sub-treasury. Ilocked the box again, and put the key in my pocket. 

"Of course, " I said, as I turned to go, "I can only repeat your storyto my companion. He and Miss Holladay will decide what steps to take. But I am sure they will be merciful. "

They bowed without replying, and I went out along the path between thetrees, leaving them alone with their dead. 

And it was of the dead I thought last and most sorrowfully: a man ofcharacter, of force, of fascination. How I could have liked him!

CHAPTER XIX

The End of the Story

Paris in June! Do you know it, with its bright days and its softnights, murmurous with voices? Paris with its crowded pavements--andsuch a crowd, where every man and woman awakens interest, excitesspeculation! Paris, with its blue sky and its trees, and itscolor--and its fascination there is no describing!

Joy is a great restorer, and a week of happiness in this enchantedcity had wrought wonders in our junior and his betrothed. It was goodto look at them--to smile at them sometimes; as when they stoodunseeing before some splendid canvas at the Louvre. The past was putaside, forgotten; they lived only for the future. 

And a near future, too. There was no reason why it should be deferred;we had all agreed that they were better married at once; so, thatdecided, the women sent us about our own affairs, and spent theintervening fortnight in a riot of visits to the costumer: for, inParis, even for a very quiet wedding, a bride must have her trousseau. But the great day came at last; the red tape of French administrationwas successfully unknotted; and at noon they were wedded, with only wethree for witnesses, at the pretty chapel of St. Luke's, near theBoulevard Montparnasse. 

There was a little breakfast afterward at Mrs. Kemball's apartment, and then our hostess bade them adieu, and her daughter and I drovewith them across Paris to the Gare de Lyon, where they were to taketrain for a fortnight on the Riviera. We waved them off and turnedback together. 

"It is a desecration to use a carriage on such a day, " said mycompanion: so we dismissed ours and sauntered afoot down the BoulevardDiderot toward the river. 

"So that is the end of the story, " she said musingly. 

"Of _their_ story, yes, " I interjected. 

"But there are still certain things I do not quite understand, " shecontinued, not heeding me. 

"Yes?"

"For instance--why did they trouble to keep her prisoner?"

"Family affection?"

"Nonsense! There could be none. Besides the man dominated them; and Ibelieve him to have been capable of any crime. "

"Perhaps he meant the hundred thousand to be only the first payment. With her at hand, he might hope to get more indefinitely. Withouther----"

"Well, without her?"

"Oh, the plot grows and grows, the more one thinks of it! I believe itgrew under his hands in just the same way. I don't doubt that it wouldhave come, at last, to Miss Holladay's death by some subtle means; tothe substitution of her sister for her--after a year or two abroad, who could have detected it? And then--oh, then, she would have marriedFajolle again, and they would have settled down to the enjoyment ofher fortune. And he would have been a great man--oh, a very great man. He would have climbed and climbed. "

My companion nodded. 

"_Touché!_" she cried. 

I bowed my thanks; I was learning French as rapidly as circumstancespermitted. 

"But Frances did not see them again?"

"Oh, no; she preferred not. "

"And the money?"

"Was left in the box. I sent back the key. She wished it so. Afterall, it was her mother----"

"Yes, of course; perhaps she was not really so bad. "

"She wasn't, " I said decidedly. "But the man----"

"Was a genius. I'm almost sorry he's dead. "

"I'm more than sorry--it has taken an interest out of life. "

We had come out upon the bridge of Austerlitz, and paused, involuntarily. Below us was the busy river, with its bridges, itsboats, its crowds along the quays; far ahead, dominating the scene, the towers of the cathedral; and the warm sun of June was over it all. We leaned upon the balustrade and gazed at all this beauty. 

"And now the mystery is cleared away, " she said, "and the prince andthe princess are wedded, just as they were in the fairy tales of ourchildhood. It's a good ending. "

"For all stories, " I added. 

She turned and looked at me. 

"There are other stories, " I explained. "Theirs is not the only one. "

"No?"

The spirit of Paris--or perhaps the June sunshine--was in my veins, running riot, clamorous, not to be repressed. 

"Certainly not. There might be another, for instance, with you and meas the principals. "

I dared not look at her; I could only stare ahead of me down at thewater. 

She made no sign; the moments passed. 

"Might be, " I said desperately. "But there's a wide abyss between thepossible and the actual. "

Still no sign; I had offended her--I might have known!

But I mustered courage to steal a sidelong glance at her. 

She was smiling down at the water, and her eyes were very bright. 

"Not always, " she whispered. "Not always. "

Transcriber's notes:

Variations in spelling have been left as in the original. 

The following changes have been made to the text:

Page 33: "possibilty" corrected to "possibility" (". . . Precluding thepossibility of anyone swinging down from above . . . ")

Page 183: "Cafe" corrected to "Café" ("At the Café Jourdain")

Page 268: "sat" corrected to "set" (". . . And we set at once about thework of finding a vehicle. ")

Page 280: erroneous chapter numbering corrected, for the chapter title"The Veil is Lifted" ("Chapter XVII" corrected to "Chapter XVIII")