occasioned the delay it is
impossible to say, but fully a quarter of an hour elapsed before madame
made her appearance. She greeted him with a great appearance of
cordiality. Taking his hands in hers, she held them while she thanked
him, in fluent French, for what she called his bravery on the preceding
afternoon.

"_Mon Dieu!_" said she. "What should I have done had you not been
there to help her? Had she been killed I should never have known
happiness again. It was such a risk to run. She is so reckless. She
fills me with consternation whenever she goes out alone."

This was not at all what Browne had bargained for. However, under the
circumstances, it would not only have been unwise, but practically
impossible, for him to protest. You cannot save a young lady's life
and expect to escape her relatives' thanks, however much you may desire
to do so. After these had been offered to him, however, he managed to
discover an opportunity of inquiring after her.

"The poor child is better this morning," Madame replied, solemnly
wagging her head. "But, alas! it will be several days before she can
hope to put her foot to the ground. She begged me, however, to thank
you, monsieur, should you call, for your goodness to her."

Try as he would to conceal it, there could be no sort of doubt that
Browne was pleased that she should have thought about him. He begged
Madame Bernstein to inform her that he had called to inquire, and then
bade her good-bye. He had hoped to have discovered something
concerning the girl's history; but as it was plain to him that Madame
was not one who would be easily induced to make disclosures, he
abandoned the attempt.

He had passed down the passage, and was in the act of leaving the
hotel, when a voice reached him from a room on the right which caused
him no little surprise. At the same instant the door opened, and no
less a person than Maas stood before him.

"Why, my dear Browne, really this is most charming," he cried, with a
somewhat exaggerated enthusiasm. "I had not the very least idea of
finding you here."

"Nor I of seeing you," Browne retorted. "I understood that you were
going for a walk up the mountain."

"I did go," the other replied, "but the mist was so thick that I
changed my mind and came in here for a glass of Vermouth prior to going
on board. Believe me, there is nothing like Vermouth for counteracting
the evil effects of fog. Will you let me persuade you to