om their source of progress, and drew up at length, with obvious
relief, before a low, creeper-covered house, lying in a nest of flowers.

Monsieur Dupont's gentle knock produced a rubicund housekeeper, of about
eighty, who blended in perfect harmony with the house, the creeper, and
the flowers.

"Doctor Lessing, if you please, madame," said Monsieur Dupont.

He was shown into a small library, opening on to the garden. The room
was flooded with sunshine. There were flowers everywhere.

"_Mon Dieu_," said Monsieur Dupont, aloud, "that I should come to ask
such questions here."

He turned as the door opened, and bowed before a sturdy, white-haired
old man, bronzed with the health of the country.

"Monsieur Dupont?" said the doctor. "What can I do for you?"

Monsieur Dupont took a letter from his pocket, and unfolded it.

"Monsieur, I beg you to read this letter. It is from the French Embassy,
and begs assistance to me in an investigation that I am making."

Doctor Lessing read the letter, and returned it.

"I shall be happy to assist you in any way I can," he said, courteously.
"Please sit down."

Monsieur Dupont sat down by the open windows and drank in the fragrance
of the garden.

"Doctor Lessing," he began, "I believe it is for a long time that you
have lived in this beautiful place?"

"For forty-five years," the old doctor smiled contentedly. "But I am by
no means one of its oldest inhabitants. Lives are long in the country.
To what period do you wish to refer?"

"A period," Monsieur Dupont replied, "nearly forty years ago. I do not
know exactly."

"A long stretch," said Doctor Lessing ruefully. "But my memory shall do
its best for you. That is all I can promise."

"I am engaged," said Monsieur Dupont, "on an extraordinary quest. I do
not think that any human being has ever been engaged on a more
extraordinary quest."

"A pleasant one, I trust," said the doctor.

"As much to the contrary as it is possible to imagine."

The doctor murmured a regret and waited for his huge visitor to
continue.

"Do you," Monsieur Dupont inquired, "recollect the name of Winslowe?"

Doctor Lessing started slightly.

"Winslowe?"

"Oscar Winslowe."

A keen glance flashed from the doctor's eyes.

"Yes," he said quickly, "I recollect the name."

"He lived, I think in this village at the time I have said?"

"Yes." The reply was a trifle curt.

"Perhaps," Monsieur Dupont proceeded evenly, "there were circums