ction cherishes. "I am going from this in
a few days into Hungary," added I; "but address me here, and it shall be
sent after me.

When I had finished my letter, I again turned my thoughts to this
strange communication, so abrupt and so short. How came it to Fiume,
too? Was it enclosed in some other letter, and to whom? If posted in
Fiume, why not written there? Ay; but by whom? Who could know that I had
wished for my mother's address? It was a secret buried in my own heart.

I suddenly determined I would ask the Fraulein Sara to aid me in
unravelling this mystery, which, of course, I could do without
disclosing the contents of the note. I hurried off to the house, and
asked if she would permit me to speak to her.

"Yes. The Fraeulein was going out; but if my business was brief, she
would see me."

She was in bonnet and shawl as I entered, and stood with one hand on a
table, looking very calm but somewhat haughty.

"I beg your pardon, M. Owen," said she, "if I say that I can only give
you a few minutes, and will not ask you even to sit down. If it be a
matter of the office--"

"No, Mademoiselle; it is not a matter of the office---"

"Then, if it relate to your change of occupation--"

"No, Mademoiselle, not even to that. It is a purely personal question. I
have got a letter, with a Fiume postmark on it, but without the writer's
name; and I am curious to know if you could aid me to discover him.
Would you look at the hand and see if it be known to you?"

"Pray excuse me, M. Owen. I am the stupidest of all people in reading
riddles or solving difficulties. All the help I can give you is to say
how I treat anonymous letters myself. If they be simply insults, I burn
them. If they relate what appear to be matters of fact, I wait and watch
for them."

Offended by the whole tone of her manner, I bowed, and moved towards the
door.

"Have you seen M. Marsac? I hear he has arrived."

"No, Mademoiselle; not yet."

"When you have conferred and consulted with him, your instructions are
all prepared; and I suppose you are ready to start?"

"I shall be, Mademoiselle, when called upon."

"I will say good-bye, then," said she, advancing one step towards me,
evidently intending to offer me her hand; but I replied by a low, very
low bow, and retired.

I thought I should choke as I went down the stairs. My throat seemed to
swell, and then to close up; and when I gained the shelter of the thick
trees, I threw myself dow