glance, then lighted another cigarette.

"Suppose it were assigned to you to solve it," he asked, "how would
you set about it?"

"I'd try to find the mysterious woman."

"But the police, so I understand, attempted that and failed," he
objected. "How could you succeed?"

"Oh, I dare say I shouldn't succeed," I laughed, his air striking me
as a little more earnest than the occasion demanded. "I should
probably fail, just as the police did."

"In France," he remarked, "it is not in the least expected that men of
the law should----"

"Nor is it here," I explained. "Only, of course, a lawyer can't help
it, sometimes; some cases demand more or less detective work, and are
yet too delicate to be intrusted to the police."

"It is also the fault of our police that it is too fond of the
newspapers, of posing before the public--it is a fault of human
nature, is it not?"

"You speak English so well, Mr. Martigny," I said, "that I have
wondered where you learned it."

"I was some years in England--the business of wine--and devoted myself
seriously to the study of the language. But I still find it sometimes
very difficult to understand you Americans--you speak so much more
rapidly than the English, and so much less distinctly. You have a way
of running your words together, of dropping whole syllables----"

"Yes," I smiled, "and that is the very thing we complain of in the
French."

"Oh, our elisions are governed by well-defined laws which each one
comprehends, while here----"

"Every man is a law unto himself. Remember, it is the land of the
free----"

"And the home of the license, is it not?" he added, unconscious of
irony.

Yes, I decided, I was very fortunate in gaining Martigny's
acquaintance. Of course, after he opened his business, he would have
less time to devote to me; but, nevertheless, we should have many
pleasant evenings together, and I looked forward to them with considerable
anticipation. He was interesting in himself--entertaining, with that
large tolerance and good humor which I have already mentioned, and
which was one of the most striking characteristics of the man. And
then--shall I admit it?--I was lonely, too, sometimes, as I suppose
every bachelor must be; and I welcomed a companion.

* * * * *

It was Monday, the fourteenth day of April, and we had just opened the
office, when a clerk hurried in with a message for Mr. Royce.

"There's a man out here who wa