They passed up the street and Nick seized Jimmy by one arm and guided him around the first corner they came to—and there, as he had half suspected would be the case, he encountered the detective, Mouquin, who had taken Juno to the office of the chief. Mouquin had been sent after Nick to keep watch over him, for the chief of the secret police of Paris feared “The Leopard.” “Mouquin,” said the detective sternly, “you know that I am temporarily in authority over you. Here is the badge of authority given to me by the chief. Here, also, is some money; sufficient for your needs. Now, listen to my orders, and obey them, literally.” “At your service,” was the calm reply. “This man here”—Nick had seized Jimmy by the arm and was holding him—“is under a hypnotic trance, or spell. He has been ordered to jump into the Seine, but you must lead him to the river Thames, instead; to London. All rivers will be the same to him, and that one will do as well as another. Speak soothingly to him; tell him that you are taking him to the Seine, and he will go with you quietly enough. Wait for me in London at Gray’s hotel, in Dover Street. I may be there as soon as you are.” “Am I to put him into the river? Did you mean that?” asked Mouquin. “No. Wait for me at Gray’s. Go, now. If you have to address the man by name, call him Jimmy. Can you pronounce it? Good. Go, now.” Nick stood there and watched Mouquin and his charge until they were out of sight. After that—and there had been a lapse of a quarter of an hour—he hurried back again to the house and the room where he had parted with Juno. But Juno was no longer there; instead, upon the centre table, where it instantly caught his eye, was a written message which she had left there for him. He could not repress a smile as he read it. It was—— “NICK CARTER: Immersion in the water will restore you to full consciousness. I have willed it so, only consciousness will not return soon enough for you to save the life of Howard Drummond, alias Bare-Faced Jimmy, and many other names. He will have drowned before you can save him. I have willed it so, and I am an expert pupil of the master who taught me. But I have spared your life; perhaps some day you may remember it and spare me. Possibly I have been foolish; I do not know as to that. “I could not send you to your death. But what I could do, and did do, was to use you, and him, as a means for my own escape. This will afford me the only hour I have ever enjoyed in the city of Paris when I have been free from surveillance. I shall make use of the time to disappear, so that even the chief cannot find me. If you care to do me a favor, in return for what I have spared you, forget me, and do not seek me. You may make use of this letter wherever it will do you the most good.