him something which evidently caused him sudden surprise.

"I will call on you at eleven to-morrow morning, madame," he said.

"No. I will meet you at the Reserve. I will lunch there at twelve. You
will lunch with me?"

"Very well," he answered. "_Au revoir_," and he returned to his seat in
the cafe, while she disappeared without returning to her companion.

The mysterious watcher resumed his coffee, for he had only been absent
for a few moments, and the waiter had not cleared it away.

Hugh took out his cigarette-case and, suddenly finding himself without
a match, made the opportunity for which the mysterious stranger had been
waiting.

He struck one and handed it to his _vis-a-vis_, bowing with his foreign
grace.

Then they naturally dropped into conversation.

"Ah! m'sieur is English!" exclaimed the shrewd-eyed little man. "Here,
in Marseilles, we have many English who pass to and fro from the boats.
I suppose, m'sieur is going East?" he suggested affably.

"No," replied Hugh, speaking in French, "I have some business here--that
is all." He was highly suspicious of all strangers, and the more so of
anyone who endeavoured to get into conversation with him.

"You know Marseilles--of course?" asked the stranger, sharply
scrutinizing him.

"I have been here several times before. I find the city always gay and
bright."

"Not so bright as before the war," declared the little man, smoking at
his ease. "There have been many changes lately."

Hugh Henfrey could not make the fellow out. Yet many times before he had
been addressed by strangers who seemed to question him out of curiosity,
and for no apparent reason. This man was one of them, no doubt.

The man, who had accompanied the woman whom the stranger had followed
out, rose, exchanged a significant glance with the little man, and
walked out. That the three were in accord seemed quite apparent, though
Hugh was still unsuspicious.

He chatted merrily with the stranger for nearly half an hour, and then
rose and left the cafe. When quite close to the hotel the stranger
overtook him, and halting, asked in a low voice, in very good English:

"I believe you are Mr. Henfrey--are you not?"

"Why do you ask that?" inquired Hugh, much surprised. "My name is
Jordan--William Jordan."

"Yes," laughed the man. "That is, I know, the name you have given at the
hotel. But your real name is Henfrey."

Hugh started. The stranger, noticing his alarm, hastened to reassu