true,
things are getting serious, eh?"

"They've been serious."

"I mean the chase is nearly over?"

M. Paul answered slowly, as if weighing his words: "This man is desperate
and full of resources, I know that, but, with the precautions I have
taken, I don't see how he can escape--if he goes to Bonneton's house
to-morrow."

Tignol scratched his head in perplexity. "Why in thunder is he such a fool
as to go there?"

"I've wondered about that myself," mused Coquenil "Perhaps he won't go,
perhaps there is some extraordinary reason why he _must_ go."

"Some reason connected with the girl?" asked the other quickly.

"Yes."

"You say he _calls_ himself Alice's cousin. Isn't he really her cousin?"

Coquenil shook his head. "He isn't her cousin, and she isn't Alice."

"Wha-at?"

"Her name is Mary, and he is her stepfather."

The old man stared in bewilderment. "But--how the devil do you know that?"

Coquenil smiled. "I found an inscription on the back of that Brussels
photograph--I mean the genuine one--it was hidden under a hinged support,
and Groener must have overlooked it. That was his second great mistake."

"What was the inscription?" asked Tignol eagerly.

"It read: 'To my dear husband, Raoul, from his devoted wife Margaret and
her little Mary.' You notice it says _her_ little Mary. That one word
throws a flood of light on this case. The child was not _his_ little Mary."

"I see, I see," reflected the old man. "And Alice? Does she know that--that
she _isn't_ Alice?"

"No."

"Does she know that Groener is her stepfather, and not her cousin?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I _think_ I know why not, but, until I'm sure, I'd rather call it a
mystery. See here, we've talked too much, you must hurry back to her.
Better take an auto. And remember, Papa Tignol," he added in final warning,
"there is nothing so important as to guard this girl."

A few moments later, with Caesar bounding happily at his side, M. Paul
entered the quieter paths of the great park, and presently came to a
thickly wooded region that has almost the air of a natural forest. Here the
two romped delightedly together, and Coquenil put the dog through many of
his tricks, the fine creature fairly outdoing himself in eagerness and
intelligence.

"Now, old fellow," said M. Paul, "I'll sit down here and have a cigarette,"
and he settled himself on a rustic bench, while Caesar stretched out
comfortably at his feet. And so the one dozed as the o