ection of the
physique and manner of Jean de Courtois fitted in so ill with the
knock-down blow delivered to a portly individual like Ladislas Vassilan
that he began to compare the remarks of the elevator man at 1000 59th
Street with the confusion in the clergyman's mind on the question of
names. Then, though the light had been dim, and his mind was given
more to the recognition of his daughter than of the person accompanying
her, he was conscious of a growing conviction that the French
music-master was a being of an altogether different species. Vassilan,
too, having regained some degree of self-control, confirmed him in the
belief that there must be some error in their reckoning, and agreed
that they might save time by interviewing Mr. Hughes again.

But when the mild eyes of the minister rested on the Count's truculent
visage, and noted his water-soaked and blood-stained clothing, there
was a distinct drying up in the fount of information.

"No," he said stiffly, in reply to the Earl's request that the marriage
license should be produced again, "I regret that I cannot reopen that
matter to-night. To-morrow, if you have any cause for complaint, you
should consult the proper authorities."

"But you must allow me to emphasize the fact that the license is made
out for the marriage of a man with a French name, whereas admittedly
you have married my daughter to a man with an English or American
name," said the Earl.

"I express no opinion on the point. Your lordship may be assuming
facts which are not facts."

"I am making a statement which can be verified quite easily. The name
I saw on the license was that of Jean de Courtois, an undersized
Frenchman whom I know by sight, whereas my unfortunate friend is a
living witness to the presence here of a man who must be of powerful
build and exceptional strength."

Mr. Hughes surveyed Vassilan's battered face again, and a doubt, born
of a vague memory, began to intrude into his own mind. Moreover, he
was an eminently reasonable old gentleman.

"Ah, yes," he said. "My man, Jenkins, said something about a first
mate and a belaying pin, whatever that may be--I fancy it is an
instrument connected with the flaying of whales--and the bridegroom
could certainly not be described as 'an undersized Frenchman' by anyone
who paid due regard to the truth. . . . Well, the whole proceeding is
highly irregular, but the circumstances are quite exceptional, so----"

In a word, t