d the man.

"Why, do you know," replied Mrs. Winslow with earnestness, "I sometimes
really believe I am being watched!"

"No, that was impossible!" said Le Compte, with a start.

"And sometimes," she continued, paying no attention to him, "it seems as
though I could not stand this terrible keeping up appearances any
longer."

"You should have pleasure in the appearance," responded Le Compte
insinuatingly, "it breaks him down already. He is now like one weak
infant."

"That's so, that's so," she answered quickly, in a tone of vengeful
joyousness. "I'll bring the old devil to my feet yet. I'll crush him out
and ruin his fortune, if it takes me all my life. I'll get the biggest
part of it, too; and then, Le Compte, we'll get out of this cursed
country and enjoy ourselves the rest of our lives."

"Yes, in Paris, the magnificent, the beautiful, the sublime! Then we
will live in one heaven of love. Oh, beautiful, beautiful!" cried the
little Frenchman excitedly.

"There, Le Compte," said his companion, suddenly becoming practical
again, "don't make a fool of yourself! Take this bill and go down and
get a bottle of wine; and mind you, don't keep the change either."

As the train returned at two, and I had but little time to reach it, as
soon as Le Compte had come back with the wine and they had become
sufficiently noisy to admit of it, I quietly left my room, paid my bill,
went to the train, avoiding Fox entirely, and, with him, was soon again
in Rochester, leaving the roystering couple at the little hotel at
Charlotte building their vain dreams and air-castles about crushing out
Lyon--which would have been an easy matter if left to himself--their
beautiful, magnificent, and sublime Paris, and their "one heaven of
love" within it.

As soon as Fox stepped from the train I quietly handed him a slip of
paper directing him to make his report to me at the Waverley House,
where I was stopping under an assumed name, which he assured me he would
do, without a word being spoken or even a look of recognition being
passed.

Although the public may not be aware of it, this is an absolute
necessity in detective service. Though I employ hundreds of persons as
detectives, preventive police, and in clerical duties, at my different
agencies, on no occasion and under no circumstances is there ever on the
street, or in any public place whatever, the slightest token by which
the stranger might know that there had ever been any previo