It was Magruder's communication which brought monsieur and mademoiselle across the ocean. Mademoiselle had said so. And, in light of this, monsieur might be interested to know that at the time he had received this writing at Brest Anthony had received another, much like it, at New Orleans; and from the same person. The call that had brought them from France had brought him north on the first ship he could get. At this mademoiselle stirred in her chair; her eyes were eager; but Anthony spoke to her father. The letter that summoned him, he said, was a furtive one; it was plain that it came from a person of little courage. But, for all, there was that in it which compelled attention. No doubt monsieur had received much the same impression. "When I first saw Magruder in his counting-room," said Anthony, "his vitals were knotted in dread. He feared for his money; he feared for it shamelessly. And he choked with the thought it'd be found out he'd given me warning. As I watched him," said Anthony, "I grew sick at him; never before had I seen such a frantic, tight-hearted, cowering wretch." And then the New York packet. Monsieur, no doubt, recalled how he and mademoiselle had come ashore from her? And the circumstances? And the boisterous young man who made so free with their conveyance? Very good. Anthony had not expected to see the boisterous young man again. But he did see him. That night! And so monsieur and mademoiselle listened to the tale of the two men in the moonlight; of how one strode, laughing, away toward the river; and how the other had come into his room with much confident hectoring. "This, monsieur," said Anthony, "was Tarrant. And while I do not care for him, overmuch, I'll say this for him: he is none of your mealy-mouthed ones. He directed me to leave the city--and at once; his talk was full of gibes and sneers. That is why I struck him." "You have not yet said in what way all this concerns me," said Monsieur Lafargue. Patience! A moment more. Anthony was now coming to that. Did monsieur mark what night this happened? The clock had just struck one. As far as it was possible to judge, Magruder had been done to death in his counting-room on the river front at about that hour. Note that the laughing man had gone in that direction at that time. Monsieur Lafargue spoke in a voice that shook. He had no doubt, he said, that more than one man had gone in that direction, at that hour, and on that same night, and innocently enough. Anthony agreed. It might very readily be so. But which of them had the finger pointing at him this man had? Would monsieur join together the facts? Would he note that the desperate taking off of Magruder was of a piece with the orders Tarrant had given Anthony at the Half Moon? Did he not see that both grew from the same dark stem?