h mercies of American
travel; then he advanced toward Archer, lifted his hat, and said in
English: "Surely, Monsieur, we met in London?"

"Ah, to be sure: in London!" Archer grasped his hand with curiosity
and sympathy. "So you DID get here, after all?" he exclaimed, casting
a wondering eye on the astute and haggard little countenance of young
Carfry's French tutor.

"Oh, I got here--yes," M. Riviere smiled with drawn lips. "But not for
long; I return the day after tomorrow." He stood grasping his light
valise in one neatly gloved hand, and gazing anxiously, perplexedly,
almost appealingly, into Archer's face.

"I wonder, Monsieur, since I've had the good luck to run across you, if
I might--"

"I was just going to suggest it: come to luncheon, won't you? Down
town, I mean: if you'll look me up in my office I'll take you to a very
decent restaurant in that quarter."

M. Riviere was visibly touched and surprised. "You're too kind. But I
was only going to ask if you would tell me how to reach some sort of
conveyance. There are no porters, and no one here seems to listen--"

"I know: our American stations must surprise you. When you ask for a
porter they give you chewing-gum. But if you'll come along I'll
extricate you; and you must really lunch with me, you know."

The young man, after a just perceptible hesitation, replied, with
profuse thanks, and in a tone that did not carry complete conviction,
that he was already engaged; but when they had reached the comparative
reassurance of the street he asked if he might call that afternoon.

Archer, at ease in the midsummer leisure of the office, fixed an hour
and scribbled his address, which the Frenchman pocketed with reiterated
thanks and a wide flourish of his hat. A horse-car received him, and
Archer walked away.

Punctually at the hour M. Riviere appeared, shaved, smoothed-out, but
still unmistakably drawn and serious. Archer was alone in his office,
and the young man, before accepting the seat he proffered, began
abruptly: "I believe I saw you, sir, yesterday in Boston."

The statement was insignificant enough, and Archer was about to frame
an assent when his words were checked by something mysterious yet
illuminating in his visitor's insistent gaze.

"It is extraordinary, very extraordinary," M. Riviere continued, "that
we should have met in the circumstances in which I find myself."

"What circumstances?" Archer asked, wondering a little crudel