; whatever she had in mind for him, she was
only playing into his hands when she proposed to keep him near her. He
managed to get out of the chair, and accepted the offer of her arm, but
held back for a moment.

"But your servants..."

"Well, monsieur, what of them?"

"For one thing, they sleep sincerely."

"There are sound-proof walls between their part of the house and this.
More than that, they are forbidden to intrude, no matter what may
happen, unless I summon them."

"But in the morning, Liane, when they regard this wreckage... I am
afraid they will think me a tempestuous lover!"

"They will find me a tempestuous mistress," promised Liane Delorme,
"when I question them about that open door."

XVIII

BROTHER AND SISTER

The storm had passed off, an ardent noonday sun was collaborating with
a coquettish breeze to make gay the window awnings of the chamber where
Lanyard, in borrowed pyjamas and dressing-gown of silk, lay luxuriously
bedded, listening to the purr of wide-awake Paris and, with an
excellent cigar to chew on, ruminating upon the problematic issue of
his latest turn of fortune, and not in the least downhearted about it.

Before turning in he had soaked and steamed most of the ache out of
bone and muscle in the hottest water his flesh would suffer; and six
hours unbroken slumber had done wonders toward lessening the distress
his exertions last night had occasioned in the frail new tissues of his
wound. Now, fresh from a cold shower following a second hot bath, and
further comforted by a petit dejeuner served in bed, he felt measurably
sane again, and sound in wind and limb as well, barring a few deep
bruises whose soreness would need several days to heal.

A pleasant languour, like a light opiate, infused his consciousness;
yet he was by no means mentally inactive.

The morning papers were scattered over the counterpane. Lanyard had
diligently scanned all the stories that told of the identification of
the murdered man of the Lyons rapide as the Comte de Lorgnes; and
inasmuch as these were of one voice in praising the Prefecture for that
famous feat of detective work, and not one line suggested that it did
not deserve undivided credit, Lanyard had nothing to complain of there.

As for the Montalais robbery it was not even mentioned. The restricted
size imposed upon French newspapers by the paper shortage of those days
crowded out of their columns everything but news in true sense, an