at supper
with her, a new admirer among them. Perhaps she hates me for that, but
it seems queer that Pauline Potter, whom I knew in Chicago, should bob
up in Malta. Almost like a modern play."

"Well, she's here. I've seen her."

"Professor, pardon me for saying it, but you've allowed yourself to be
maligned. I believed you were a nonentity, but I find you possessed of
a remarkable mind. You are a second Richelieu."

"You flatter me. John, grant my favor; allow me to accompany you on this
errand. I will then have a chance to explain how I managed to learn all
these things."

"I see no reason to refuse."

"Good! Come, let's move off," with a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Oh," laughs the student, "_she's_ up stairs yet," and his words are
corroborated, for a burst of almost masculine laughter comes floating
down from the next floor, causing Philander to shrug his shoulders.

"She'll imagine I'm off seeing the sights. I went to see the modern
Mabille in Paris and have never heard the last of it. Stand by me in
case of war, my boy."

"That I will, professor."

They have left the hotel, and John's face tells of the puzzle which he
is trying to solve--the strange connection between Pauline Potter, the
actress who won his boyish admiration only to deceive him, and she whom
he seeks with reverent love in his heart, his mother, the Sister
Magdalen of Lady Ruth's Paris adventure.

And the professor guesses the truth.

"I may be able to assist you, John, though you shall be the judge. Will
you listen to my yarn?"

"With pleasure."

They walk on, arm in arm; the doctor has lighted a cigar, and seems to
take much comfort in the mechanical puffs of smoke which he sends out
into the darkness--not that there is anything of the inky pall about
this, throwing a silvery path way along the mysterious waters of the
romantic sea, and besides, the lanterns that flash on trees and from
house fronts serve to render the scene far from gloomy, though a modern
city dweller, used to electric lights, might notice the change.

"Before we enter into a discussion, my dear boy, let me explain how I
came to know these facts connected with the presence of Pauline Potter
in Valetta, and the duplicity of the man representing the head of the
police, Signor Stucco.

"After returning from our eventful walk to the hill-top back of the
town, I had business in another section, business connected with my trip
along the Mediterranean, and w