ed to look away, but
she could not. He seemed to hold her there by sheer force of will
power. Frightened, she started to tremble in every limb. Yet, to her
astonishment, she had no feeling of anger or resentment. It seemed
quite natural that this man should gaze at her in this intimate,
caressing way. She found herself taking pleasure in it. Her vanity
was gratified. If he looked at her so persistently, it must be that he
thought her pretty. Her face began to burn, her bosom heaved, a
strange sensation that heretofore only her husband had been able to
arouse, came over her. And still his eyes were on hers, caressing,
voluptuous.

At the other end of this room the game of bridge was still in progress.
Ray was winning, as usual, and amusing the men with her wit and
vivaciousness. Mr. Steell had glanced over in their direction several
times, and he saw enough to convince him that the attentions of the
fencing master were unwelcome to their hostess. Had he caught Helen's
eye, had she made the slightest sign that she was being annoyed, he
would have instantly left the game and gone over to the window, if only
to break up the tete-a-tete, but she did not once look up. Suddenly he
remembered what had been suggested on the boat. It was an idea. Ray
at that moment got up to get some tea, and, profiting by the
opportunity, the lawyer leaned over and whispered:

"Say, Dick, you see that chap over there."

The young man looked up.

"Who--the signor?"

"Yes. What do you know about him?"

"Nothing good--although nothing very bad for that matter. He's a dark
horse--keeps pretty much to himself. He's well known in the gay
resorts, in the gambling houses and where they play the ponies."

"What's his reputation?"

"He's known as a liberal spender. He's always flashing big rolls of
money----"

"Where does he get it--not from the fencing school?"

"No--that's only a blind."

The lawyer lowered his voice.

"Dick, my boy, that fellow will bear watching, and you're the man to do
it."

"You want him shadowed?"

"Yes--find out where he goes, who he knows. My opinion is that he
belongs to an international band of crooks--possibly counterfeiters,
smugglers, or blackmailers. If you land him behind the bars you'll
deserve well of your country."

Dick glanced once or twice in the direction of the object of their
conversation, who, quite unconscious of their scrutiny, was still
talking earnestly to Helen. Th