om the path
of your marriage."

"Then what is it that makes you so downcast?" cried Fairholme.

"I hate to be beaten at the final stage, and I have a premonition that
were I in England--had I but the power to proceed unchecked and
unhindered by officialdom--I would soon lay my hands on the man who
originated the Albert Gate mystery. But we are in France--in a country
of queer legal forms and unusual methods. At home I can always
circumvent Scotland Yard; here I am in the midst of strange
surroundings, and know not what may happen. Therefore, we must possess
our souls in patience and wait developments. The agent I have just
employed has promised me to report every two hours at the hotel until
eight o'clock. Then I will take personal charge of the Cabaret Noir,
and----"

"What about me?" cried Fairholme.

"You, my dear fellow, will remain at the hotel and await orders."

This arrangement did not seem to suit the active young Englishman who
had been so suddenly plunged into the excitement of a criminal chase in
Paris.

"Really, Brett," he said, "I hate to grumble at anything you propose,
because you are always right; but you must pardon me for saying that I
do not see what particular value my presence here has been to you."

"What!" laughed Brett; "not after your dramatic appearance in the Rue
Barbette this morning?"

"Oh, any one could have done that. All I had to do was to break in a
door at a given hour."

"Exactly," said Brett gravely. "I wanted a friend whom I could trust to
implicitly obey my orders, and you did it. I am sure you will fall in
with my wishes now."

So Fairholme was silenced on this point, but he ventured to put another
question.

"How long am I to sit chewing cigars in our rooms, then?"

"All night, if necessary. If I do not appear by seven o'clock to-morrow
morning you had better go to the Embassy and tell one of the secretaries
everything connected with our visit to Paris. He will then take action
through the police in proper form, and after that you must simply await
developments."

"Do you mean to say," said Fairholme, anxiously, "that you are
contemplating another risky bit of business to-night?"

"Once I take my stand outside the Cabaret Noir about 8.30 I cannot tell
where Fate may lead me. If I am lucky I will certainly return, whatever
be the personal outcome. If, on the other hand, I learn nothing, you may
certainly expect to see me about two in the morning."

At the hote