suspected that the girl was not so much her ally as she
wished. She had begun to watch her under the impression that she was in
confederacy with Mademoiselle Daniels. She had perceived no signs of
that, but she believed she intercepted an exchange of glances with the
false Marseillais. They were of the same nationality and this fact
caused Cesarine to be on her guard. Unless Hedwig repeated what had
happened between Clemenceau and Antonino, how could the colonel know of
their conversation?

Hesitating to question her directly, disliking her from that moment, and
feeling her heart shrink at her loneliness when such crushing odds were
threatening her, she donned her "company smile" and went to the
sitting-room bravely.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE COMPACT.

Luncheon was served and M. Cantagnac, seated comfortably, was trying the
delicacies with rare conscientiousness about any escaping his
harpoon-like fork. Cesarine did not give him a second look and neither
he nor Clemenceau, with whom he was chatting on politics, more than
glanced up at her. M. Daniels was more polite, for he warmly accepted a
second cup of coffee as soon as she, without any attempt to displace
Mademoiselle Daniels at the urn, took her place beside her.

"Pray go on and attend to the liquors," she said kindly. "I am so
nervous that I am afraid I shall break something."

She took a seat which placed her on the left of the old Jew. A little
familiarity was only in keeping when two theatrical artists met.

"What is the matter with your daughter? she seems sad," she remarked
with apparent interest.

"That is natural enough when we are going away from France, it may be
forever."

"Going away from here?" inquired Madame Clemenceau.

"Yes; this evening, but we did not like to go without bidding you
good-bye. Now that we have seen you in good health, and thanked you for
your hospitality, we can proceed on our mission without compunction."

"A mission--where?"

"I have succeeded in interesting capitalists in your husband's
inventions. That is settled; and I have taken up again a holy
undertaking which should hardly have been laid aside for a mere money
matter. But there is nothing more sacred, after all, than friendship, I
owe to your husband more than I have thus far repaid," and he bent a
tender regard on his daughter, with its overflow upon Clemenceau one of
gratitude.

"Are you going far?" asked Cesarine, keeping her eyes in play but little