affair to run to so extraordinary a length Van
Dam hardly knew, except that he wished to gain time. He had no idea that
the mysterious Emile would really come to the house, for Madelon had as
much as told him that a far different reason lay behind the young man's
presence in the city.

What did concern Roly, however, the more he considered it, was the
possible consequence if the two girls returned. Thus far he had been
able to meet each new surprise, each fresh situation, with a resource
that amazed himself, but if they came face to face with him and Alfred,
his own masquerade would end at once and disastrous explanations would
certainly follow. Nevertheless, he could not run away and leave them in
an awkward position. As he looked back over the fantastic occurrences of
the past hour or more it amused and amazed him to realize how nicely he
had fitted into the puzzle--and puzzle it surely was; for the whole
sequence of events that had followed the purchase of the white gardenia
that lay above his heart was now more bewildering than ever.

That there was something more than mere roguery afoot he had ample
proof. He felt himself groping along the edge of something vague and
black and sinister. But what it was, what were the issues, or who were
the people involved, he had not the slightest conception. Of one thing
only was he sure, Madelon had no place in this elaborate web and woof of
crime. She had impressed him more deeply even than he had realized, and
his main anxiety now, outside of a desire to protect her from the venom
of this poisonous old man, was to see her face, to lift with his own
fingers the mask that had so tantalized him.

The owner of the house was busily arranging the plans for Emile's
destruction when the doorbell rang. He clutched his guest nervously by
the arm and thrust the revolver into his hand, whispering:

"It is he! The scoundrel has arrived! Quickly now--behind the door!"

But Roly stepped to a front window and, cautiously drawing the curtain
aside, peered out. He saw what he had feared--the figure of a petite
Norman maid, and beside it that of a masked woman in a long, dark robe.

"Well, now! Who can it be?" he heard Alfred whisper, and discovered the
senile villain peering past his shoulder.

"It is Madelon and Felice," Roly explained.

"_They!_ Here? Wait! I will give them a cursing to remember." But before
the speaker could move he found his arms pinioned behind him and his own
wea