Grace, his wife, equally mystified, was
proceeding in the direction of Brussels.

The reasons for her going to Brussels were no more clear to her than
were Richard's, to him. At the conclusion of the wedding breakfast which
had followed her simple marriage to Duvall, she had gone to the
_pension_ at which she had been living, to await her husband's return.
She had not then understood the mysterious message which had summoned
him to the Prefect's office, nor, for that matter, had he, but he had
assured her that he would return in a short while, and that had been
enough for her.

Her patient waiting had been finally terminated by the arrival of the
Prefect himself, who had explained with polite brevity that a matter of
the gravest importance had made it necessary for him to send Richard at
once to London.

The girl's grief and alarm had been great--Monsieur Lefevre had at last,
however, succeeded in convincing her that Richard could not under the
circumstances have done anything but go. His position as an assistant to
Lefevre, and more particularly the friendship which existed between
them, made it imperative for him to come to the Prefect's assistance in
this crisis.

What the crisis was, Grace did not learn. She had insisted upon
following Richard, upon being near him, upon assisting him, should
opportunity offer, and Monsieur Lefevre, seized with a sudden
inspiration, had dispatched her to Brussels, with the assurance that she
would not only see her husband very soon, but might be able to render
both him, and France, a very signal service.

Grace had accepted the mission; her desire to be near Richard was a
compelling motive, and as a result she found herself flying toward the
Belgian frontier, on an early afternoon express, with no idea whatever
of what lay before her, and only a few words, written by Monsieur
Lefevre upon a page torn from his notebook, to govern her future
actions.

She luckily was able to find a compartment in one of the first-class
carriages where she could be alone, and sank back upon the cushioned
seat, determined to face whatever dangers the future might hold, for the
sake of her husband.

Her mind traveled, in retrospect, over the events of the past few
months--the conspiracy against her, by her step-uncle, Count d'Este, by
which he had so nearly deprived her of the fortune left to her by her
aunt, and the striking way in which his plans had been upset by Richard
Duvall. She had loved