ing, Miss Ranscomb," he said. "I have
come here to give you a confidential message."

"Why confidential--and from whom?" she asked, standing against the wall
and surveying the mysterious masker.

"From a gentleman friend of yours--Mr. Henfrey."

"From Hugh?" she gasped. "Do you know him?"

"Yes."

"I expected him to come with us to-night, but he has vanished from his
hotel."

"I know. That is why I am here," was the reply.

There was a note in the stranger's voice which struck her as somehow
familiar, but she failed to recognize the individual. She was as quick
at remembering voices as she was at recollecting faces. Who could he be,
she wondered?

"You said you had a message for me," she remarked.

"Yes," he replied. "I am here to tell you that a serious contretemps has
occurred, and that Mr. Henfrey has escaped from France."

"Escaped!" she echoed. "Why?"

"Because the police suspect him of a crime."

"Crime! What crime? Surely he is innocent?" she cried.

"He certainly is. His friends know that. Therefore, Miss Ranscomb, I beg
of you to betray no undue anxiety even if you do not hear from him for
many weeks."

"But will he write to me?" she asked in despair. "Surely he will not
keep me in suspense?"

"He will not if he can avoid it. But as soon as the French
police realize that he has got away a watch will be kept upon his
correspondence." Then, lowering his voice, he urged her to move away,
as he thought that an idling masker was trying to overhear their
conversation.

"You see," he went on a few moments later, "it might be dangerous if he
were to write to you."

Dorise was thinking of what her mother would say when the truth reached
her ears. Hugh was a _fugitive_!

"Of what crime is he suspected?" asked the girl.

"I--well, I don't exactly know," was the stranger's faltering response.
"I was told by a friend of his that it was a serious one, and that
he might find it extremely difficult to prove himself innocent. The
circumstantial evidence against him is very strong."

"Do you know where he is now?"

"Not in the least. All I know is that he is safely across the frontier
into Italy," was the reply of the tall white cavalier.

"I wish I could see your face," declared Dorise frankly.

"And I might express a similar desire, Miss Ranscomb. But for the
present it is best as it is. I have sought you here to tell you the
truth in secret, and to urge you to remain calm and patient."

"Is th