Again Beecher read over the note, pondering every word as he went “What a sad business!” murmured he, “and all for nothing, or next to nothing!” Then, as if suddenly rousing himself to action, he said, “Rivers, we must get away at once. Take this passport to the police, and then look after a horse-box for the next train to Liege. We shall start at two o'clock.” “That's just what the Captain said, sir. 'Don't delay in Brussels,' says he; 'and don't you go a-talking about this morning's work. If they have you up for examination, mind that you saw nothing, you heard nothing, you know nothing.'” “Send Miss Davis's maid here,” said Beecher; “and then see about those things I 've mentioned to you.” Mademoiselle Annette was a French Swiss, who very soon apprehended that a “difficulty” had occurred somewhere, which was to be kept secret from her young mistress; and though she smiled with a peculiar significance at the notion of Miss Davis travelling under Beecher's protection, she did so with all the decorum of her gifted class. “You 'll explain everything, Annette,” said Beecher, who in his confusion was eager to throw any amount of burden or responsibility upon another; “you'll tell her whatever you like as to the cause of his going away, and I 'll swear to it.” “Monsieur need not give himself any trouble,” was the ready answer; “all shall be cared for.” CHAPTER XXXI. EXPLANATIONS. What a sad pity it is that the great faculty of “making things comfortable,” that gifted power which blends the announcement with the explanation of misfortune, should be almost limited to that narrow guild in life to which Mademoiselle Annette belonged! The happy knack of half-informing and all-mystifying would be invaluable on the Treasury benches; and great proficients as some of our public men are in this walk, how immeasurably do they fall short of the dexterity of the “soubrette”!