; he reached Paris Friday
morning. Since arriving in Paris he has fully accounted for his time. It
is impossible that he could have arranged for the abduction. Still, if you
say, I can hold him for entering your apartment."

"That would be but a farce." Nora rose. "Monsieur, permit me to wish you
good day. For my part, I shall pursue this matter to the end. I believe
this gentleman guilty, and I shall do my best to prove it. I am a woman,
and all alone. When a man has powerful friends, it is not difficult to
build an alibi."

"That is a reflection upon my word, Mademoiselle," quietly interposed the
minister.

"Monsieur has been imposed upon." Nora walked to the door.

"Wait a moment, Mademoiselle," said the prefect. "Why do you insist upon
prosecuting him for something of which he is guiltless, when you could
have him held for something of which he is really guilty?"

"The one is trivial; the other is a serious outrage. Good morning." The
attendant closed the door behind her.

"A very determined young woman," mused the chief of police.

"Exceedingly," agreed the minister.

Courtlandt got up wearily. But the chief motioned him to be reseated.

"I do not say that I dare not pursue my investigations; but now that
mademoiselle is safely returned, I prefer not to."

"May I ask who made this request?" asked Courtlandt.

"Request? Yes, Monsieur, it was a request not to proceed further."

"From where?"

"As to that, you will have to consult the head of the state. I am not at
liberty to make the disclosure."

The minister leaned forward eagerly. "Then there is a political side to
it?"

"There would be if everything had not turned out so fortunately."

"I believe that I understand now," said Courtlandt, his face hardening.
Strange, he had not thought of it before. His skepticism had blinded him
to all but one angle. "Your advice to drop the matter is excellent."

The chief of police elevated his brows interrogatively.

"For I presume," continued Courtlandt, rising, "that Mademoiselle's
abductor is by this time safely across the frontier."

CHAPTER VII

BATTLING JIMMIE

There is a heavenly terrace, flanked by marvelous trees. To the left, far
down below, is a curving, dark-shaded, turquoise body of water called
Lecco; to the right there lies the queen of lakes, the crown of Italy, a
corn-flower sapphire known as Como. Over and about it--this terrace--poets
have raved and tousled their neglected lo