s Tapilow himself, I had no fear. It was not
likely that he would ever raise his hand against me.

I dismissed the subject from my thoughts. It was just then I
remembered that, after all, I had not gathered from Louis a single
shred of information on the subject in which I was most interested. I
almost smiled when I remembered how admirably he had contrived to
elude my curiosity. The only thing which I gathered from his manner
was that Mr. Delora's disappearance was unexpected by him. Never mind,
the end was not yet! I ordered coffee and a liqueur, and laid my
cigarette case upon the table. I would wait until Louis chose to come
to me once more. There were certain things which I intended to ask him
point blank.

CHAPTER XIV

LOUIS EXPLAINS

Louis returned of his own accord before long.

"Monsieur has been well served?" he asked genially.

"Excellently, Louis," I answered, "so far as the mere question of food
goes. You have not, however, managed to satisfy my curiosity."

"Monsieur?" he asked interrogatively.

"Concerning the Deloras," I answered.

Louis shrugged his shoulders.

"But what should I know?" he asked. "Mr. Delora, he has come here last
year and the year before. He has stayed for a month or so. He
understands what he eats. That is all. Mademoiselle comes for the
first time. I know her not at all."

"What do you think of his disappearance, Louis?" I asked.

"What should I think of it, monsieur? I know nothing."

"Mr. Delora, I am told," I continued, "is a coffee planter in South
America."

"I, too," Louis admitted, "have heard so much."

"How came he to have the _entree_ to the Cafe des Deux Epingles?"
I asked.

Louis smiled.

"I myself," he remarked, "am but a rare visitor there. How should I
tell?"

"Louis," said I, "why not be honest with me? I am certainly not a
person to be afraid of. I am very largely in your hands over the
Tapilow affair, and, as you know, I have seen too much of the world to
consider trifles. I do not believe that Mr. Delora came to London to
sell his crop of coffee. I do not believe that you are ignorant of his
affairs. I do not believe that his disappearance is so much a mystery
to you as it is to the rest of us--say to me and to mademoiselle his
niece."

Louis' face was like the face of a sphinx. He made no
protestations. He denied nothing. He waited simply to see where I was
leading him.

"I am not sure, Louis," I said, "that I do not believe th