ding it upon the palm of her hand, was
looking at it with a curiously intent and bitter smile.
"Good!" said Gustave Boucheafen, with satisfaction; and he went out and
left her.
CHAPTER VIII., AND LAST.
George Brudenell, having passed a restless and troubled evening, passed
also a restless and dream-haunted night, coming down to breakfast the
next morning jaded and out of sorts. He could not for a moment dismiss
from his memory that interview in the garden last night, or explain to
himself the meaning of Alexia Boucheafen's extraordinary conduct. What
was he to understand from it? Had her behavior been prompted by
astonishment, indecision, or annoyance? He did not know; and he could
make nothing of it. The Doctor ate no breakfast; but came to the
conclusion that he must see her again, and that as soon as possible;
his earnestness and anxiety conquered his diffidence. He rang the bell
for Mrs. Jessop, and asked if Mademoiselle were down-stairs yet? He
wished to see her.
Mrs. Jessop, looking curiously at her master, went and returned. No,
Mademoiselle was not down yet; she had complained last night of
headache. Was it anything very particular; and should she be called?
Not on any account. The Doctor picked up the paper that he had
forgotten to read, and went to his consulting-room.
It was empty, for it was not yet his usual hour for receiving patients.
To fill up the time and to escape from his own thoughts he opened the
paper. The first thing that caught his eye and changed his indifference
to involuntarily interest was the announcement, in the most sensational
terms, of two supposed dynamite outrages which had taken place on the
previous night, resulting in the partial wreck of one house and the
almost total destruction of another, together with the death of the
Russian police-agent who lived in it.
It was just at this time that some such paragraph formed the chief
sensational "tit-bit" of almost every newspaper, and outraged public
opinion was ready to run wild upon the subject. The Doctor, excited,
horrified, interested, read the account. The two explosions had taken
place almost simultaneously, and had evidently been caused by the same
kind of infernal machine, whether containing dynamite or some other
explosive was not quite certain. As for the police-agent who had been
killed, it was known that he had been threatened by some secret
society, supposed to have lurking-places in various parts of Lon
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