over the figures
he had written down in the order Elizabeth had mentioned
them--fifteen--seventeen--nineteen--but what could he deduce from
them?... Ah!... The mysterious robbery of rue du Quatre Septembre was
committed on May 15th! There may be a clue there! The thread of Fandor's
reflections were abruptly broken by a cry from Elizabeth.

"I have recalled a name--something like ... Thomas!... Does that tell
you anything?"

"Thomas?" repeated Jerome Fandor slowly.... "I don't see...."

But suddenly he saw light!

He jumped up:

"Isn't it Thomery?" cried he, intensely excited. "Are you not
confounding Thomas with Thomery?"

Elizabeth, taken aback, confused, tried hard to remember: she threshed
her memory with knitted brows.

"It may be so," she declared. "I see quite clearly the first letters of
the word--Thom ... written in a large hand,... then the rest is
indistinct ... but I have the impression that the end of the word is
longer than the last syllable of Thomas."

"Perhaps you are right!"

Fandor was no longer listening to her. He had left the rustic bench, and
without paying any attention to Elizabeth, he began walking up and down
the shady path, talking to himself in a low tone, as was his habit when
he wished to reduce his thoughts to order.

"Thomas--that is Thomery; Jacques Dollon, the Baroness de Vibray,
Barbey-Nanteuil, lawyer Gerin--but they are all the victims of the
mysterious band that plots and plans in the shade!... It is
incomprehensible--but we shall find a way to get to the bottom of it
all!"

Fandor returned to Elizabeth.

"We shall get to the bottom of these mysteries," cried he, with so
triumphant an air, his face shining with joy, that Elizabeth, in spite
of her torturing anxieties, could not help smiling.

They were alone in these green and flowery spaces. A great peace was all
about them. The birds were singing, the breeze lightly stirred the trees
and bushes with caressing breaths.... Fandor gazed tenderly at
Elizabeth, very tenderly.... The young girl smiled tremulously, as she
met this glance of lover-like tenderness.

"We shall get to the bottom of it," repeated Fandor. "You will see, I
promise you...."

Their glances mingled in a mute communion of thought and feeling....
Spontaneously, their hands met and clasped.... They were standing close
together, and theirs the consciousness of living through an
unforgettable moment: they felt most vividly alive together. How youn