e like docile conspirators.

After this Madame von Marwitz said that she would try to sleep; but,
propped in her corner, she complained so piteously of discomfort that
Mrs. Slifer and Maude finally divested themselves of their jackets and
contrived a pillow for her out of them. They assured her that they were
not cold and Madame von Marwitz, reclining now at full length, murmured
"_Mille remerciements_." Soon she fell asleep and Mrs. Slifer and Maude,
very cold and very unresentful, sat and watched her slumbers. From time
to time she softly snored. She was very comfortable in her fur-lined
cloak.

It was one o'clock when they reached Exeter and drove, dazed and numbed,
to a hotel. Here Madame von Marwitz further availed herself of the
services of Maude and Mrs. Slifer, for she was incapable of unpacking
her box and dressing-case. Mrs. Slifer maided her while Maude, with
difficulty at the late hour, procured her hot water, bouillon and toast.
Beatrice meanwhile, callously avowing her unworthiness, said that she
was "dead tired" and went to bed.

Madame von Marwitz bade Mrs. Slifer and Maude the kindest good-night,
smiling dimly at them over her bedroom candlestick as she ushered them
to the door. "So," she said; "I leave you to your cathedral."

When the Slifers arose next day, late, for they were very weary, they
found that Madame von Marwitz had departed by an early train.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, at Les Solitudes, old Mrs. Talcott turned from side to side
all night, sleepless. Her heart was heavy with anxiety.

Karen was found and to-morrow Mercedes would be with her; she had sent
for Mercedes, so the note pinned to Mrs. Talcott's dressing-table had
informed her, and Mercedes would write.

What had happened? Who were the unknown ladies who had appeared from no
one knew where during her absence at Helston and departed with Mercedes
for Truro?

"Something's wrong. Something's wrong," Mrs. Talcott muttered to herself
during the long hours. "I don't believe she's sent for Mercedes--not
unless she's gone crazy."

At dawn she fell at last into an uneasy sleep. She dreamed that she and
Mercedes were walking in the streets of Cracow, and Mercedes was a
little child. She jumped beside Mrs. Talcott, holding her by the hand.
The scene was innocent, yet the presage of disaster filled it with a
strange horror. Mrs. Talcott woke bathed in sweat.

"I'll get an answer to my telegram this morn