ueous product, the fluid of chopped hay long stewed in tepid
water, and then she answered--

"Let me see, now, what did Roderick buy me? Oh, yes! I remember, he
bought me a meerschaum pipe and a walking-stick!"

"A what?" I gasped.

"A meerschaum pipe, and a walking-stick with a little man to hold
matches on the top of it."

Roderick looked guilty, and admitted it.

"You see," he said in apology, "they sold only those things at the
first place we came to, and you don't expect a fellow to walk in Paris,
do you? Now, when I've rested after breakfast, I suggest that we all
make up our minds for a long stroll, and get to the Palais Royal."

"Well, that's about three hundred yards from here, isn't it? Are you
quite sure you're equal to it?"

He looked at me reproachfully.

"You don't want a man to kill himself on his holiday, do you? You're
fatally energetic. Now, I believe that the science of life is rest, the
calm survey of great problems from the depths of an armchair. It's
astonishing how easy things are if you take them that way; never let
anything agitate you--I never do."

"No, he don't, does he, Mary? But about this excursion to the Palais
Royal; I'm afraid you'll have to go alone, for I have just had a letter
which calls me back to the yacht. It's awfully unfortunate, but I must
go, although I will return here in a week, if possible, and pick you
up; otherwise, you will hear of my movements as soon as I know them
myself."

Somewhat to my astonishment, they both looked at me, saying nothing,
but evidently very much surprised. Mary's big eyes were wide open with
amazement, but Roderick had a more serious look on his face. He did not
question me, he did not say a word, but I felt his thought--"You hold
something back"--and the mute reproach was keen. Perhaps some
explanation would then have been demanded had not another interruption
broken the unwelcome silence. One of the servants of the hotel entered
to tell me that a man who wished to speak with me was waiting outside,
and asked if I would see him there or in the privacy of our room. As I
could not recall that anyone in Paris had any business with me, I said,
"Send the man here"; and presently he entered, when to my intense
surprise I found him to be no other than one of the ruffians--the one
called "Four-Eyes" by the Captain of the company I had met on the
previous evening. Not that he seemed in any way abashed at the
meeting--he walked into the room w