o confidant.

Colville knew where to look for Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence in Paris,
where she always took an apartment in a quiet and old-fashioned hotel
rejoicing in a select Royalist clientele on the Place Vendome. On
arriving at the capital, he hurried thither, and was told that the lady
he sought had gone out a few minutes earlier. "But Madame's maid," the
porter added, "is no doubt within."

Colville was conducted to Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence's room, and was
hardly there before the lady's French maid came hurrying in with
upraised hands.

"A just Heaven has assuredly sent Monsieur at this moment!" she
exclaimed. "Madame only quitted this room ten minutes ago, and she was
agitated--she, who is usually so calm. She would tell me nothing; but I
know--I, who have done Madame's hair these ten years! And there is only
one thing that could cause her anxiety--except, of course, any mishap to
Monsieur; that would touch the heart--yes!"

"You are very kind, Catherine," said Colville, with a laugh, "to think
me so important. Is that letter for me?" And he pointed to a note in the
woman's hand.

"But--yes!" was the reply, and she gave up the letter, somewhat
reluctantly. "There is only one thing, and that is money," she
concluded, watching him tear open the envelope.

"I am going to John Turner's office," Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence wrote.
"If, by some lucky chance, you should pass through Paris, and happen to
call this morning, follow me to the Rue Lafayette. M. St. P. L."

It was plain enough. Colville reflected that Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence
had heard of the success of his mission to England and the safe return
to Gemosac of Loo Barebone. For the moment, he could not think how the
news could have reached her. She might have heard it from Miriam
Liston; for their journey back to Gemosac had occupied nearly a week.
On learning the good news, Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence had promptly grasped
the situation; for she was very quick in thought and deed. The money
would be wanted at once. She had gone to Turner's office to withdraw it
in person.

Dormer Colville bought a flower in a shop in the Rue de la Paix, and had
it affixed to his buttonhole by the handmaid of Flora, who made it her
business to linger over the office with a gentle familiarity no doubt
pleasing enough to the majority of her clients.

Colville was absent-minded as he drove, in a hired carriage, to the Rue
Lafayette. He was wondering whether Mrs. St. Pierre Lawren