"there was a second man--a dark-faced Indian with them, I
believe. He stood some distance away, and followed them out. It was his
presence which attracted my attention and caused me to remember the
incident."

Fremy exchanged looks with me. I knew he was cursing his fate which had
allowed the precious trio to slip through his fingers.

Yet the thought was gratifying that when the express ran into the Great
Westbahnhof at Vienna, the detectives would at once search it for the
fugitives.

My companion had told me that by eight o'clock we would know the result
of the enquiry, and I was anxious for that hour to arrive.

Already Fremy had ordered search to be made of arrivals at all hotels and
pensions in the city for the name of Bryant, therefore, we could do
nothing more than possess ourselves in patience. So we left the post
office, his poverty-stricken assistant remaining on the watch, just as I
had watched in the cold on the previous night.

With my companion I walked round to the big Cafe Metropole on the
Boulevard, and over our "bocks," at a table where we could not be
overheard, we discussed the situation.

That big cafe, one of the principal in Brussels, is usually deserted
between the hours of three and four. At other times it is filled with
business men discussing their affairs, or playing dominoes with that
rattle which is characteristic of the foreign cafe.

"Why is it," I asked him, "that your chief absolutely refuses to betray
the identity of the girl Marie Bracq?"

The round-faced man before me smiled thoughtfully as he idly puffed his
cigarette. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he replied:

"Well, m'sieur, to tell the truth, there is a very curious complication.
In connection with the affair there is a scandal which must never be
allowed to get out to the public."

"Then you know the truth--eh?" I asked.

"A portion of it. Not all," he replied. "But I tell you that the news of
the young lady's death has caused us the greatest amazement and surprise.
We knew that she was missing, but never dreamed that she had been the
victim of an assassin."

"But who are her friends?" I demanded.

"Unfortunately, I am not permitted to say," was his response. "When they
know the terrible truth they may give us permission to reveal the truth
to you. Till then, my duty is to preserve their secret."

"But I am all anxiety to know."

"I quite recognise that, M'sieur Royle," he said. "I know how I should
feel wer