au. I shall
return in the morning."

"Ah," said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; "that
accounts for the mystery."

"Here are two letters that must get in to-night's mails," Maurice said;
"and also this telegram should be sent at once."

"As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a note for
Monsieur, which came this afternoon while Monsieur was asleep."

The envelope was unstamped, and the scrawl was unfamiliar to Maurice.
On opening it he was surprised to find a hurriedly written note from
Fitzgerald. In all probability it had been brought by the midnight
courier on his return from the duchy.

"In God's name, Maurice, why do you linger?
To-morrow morning those consols must be here
or they will be useless. Hasten; you know what
it means to me.
Fitzgerald."

Maurice perused it twice, and pulled at his lips. "Madame becomes
impatient. Poor devil. Somebody is likely to become suddenly rich
and somebody correspondingly poor. What will they say when I return
empty-handed? Like as not Madame will accuse me--and Fitzgerald will
believe her!... The archbishop! That accounts for this bold move. And
how the deuce did he get hold of them? I give up." And his shoulders
settled in resignation.

He passed down into the cafe, from there to his horse, which a groom was
holding at the curb. He swung into the saddle and tossed a coin to the
man, who touched his cap.

The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east, and the
patches of clouds which swarmed over the face of that white world of
silence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the farthermost shore of
the lake, whenever the moon went free from the clouds, Maurice could see
the slim gray line of the road which stretched toward Italy.

"It's a fine night," he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse answered
the touch of the spurs, and cantered away, glad enough to exchange
the close air of the stables for this fresh gift of the night. Maurice
guided him around the palaces into the avenue, which derived its name
from the founder of the opera, in which most of the diplomatic families
lived. Past the residence of Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at the
lightless windows, a cold of short duration seized his spine. It bad
been a hair's breadth betwixt him and death. "Your room, Colonel, is
better than you company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both. I
shall feel that