The sight did not cause him any surprise. Since he himself was on the point of seeking some information from Miss Bakersfield’s father, what was more natural than that Marescal should also be trying to learn all he could from him? Accordingly he made haste to open one of the double doors between his room and the next. But he was unable to catch a word of the conversation. Thinking it unlikely that this would be the only conversation they would have, he took the precaution of slipping into Lord Bakersfield’s room when he was out and drawing the bolt of the other door between their two rooms. He watched for the arrival of Marescal and when he went into Lord Bakersfield’s suite, he opened the second door two or three inches, only to meet with another check: Marescal and Lord Bakersfield were talking in such low voices that he could not hear a word they said. In this way he wasted three days which Lord Bakersfield and the detective spent in long confabulations, for the most part walking up and down the garden, which excited his liveliest curiosity. At what was Marescal aiming? Was he paving the way for the revelation that Miss Bakersfield was a crook? It was practically certain that he was not even thinking of doing so. Must one then suppose that he expected to get from these interviews some unexpected piece of information? Then the idea that the two men were planning something in the nature of a trap presented itself several times to Ralph’s mind; and this idea was presently strengthened by the sight of William and the girl with the green eyes strolling in the neighborhood of the hotel, drawn to it, like himself and Marescal, by the fact that Lord Bakersfield was staying there. It was a quite admissible hypothesis, and events suddenly invested it with even greater credibility. One morning Ralph who had hitherto been unable to hear several conversations of Lord Bakersfield over the telephone which was in the further room, succeeded in catching the end of one of them. “It is settled, Monsieur. Come to the hotel garden at three o’clock this afternoon. The money will be ready and my secretary will hand it over to you in exchange for the four letters of which you told me.” “Four letters?... Money?” said Ralph to himself. “This looks to me uncommonly like an attempt at blackmail. And in that case the blackmailer can be no one but the good William. Miss Bakersfield’s confederate, he must be trying to-day to turn his correspondence with her into money.”