He hurried back to the salon, and, opening the shutters, took off his hat. Was it some signal to the watchers outside? Ere I could reach his side, however, he had replaced his hat, and was re-entering the room. "Phew! this place is stifling hot, my dear friend," he said. "I wonder you do not have the windows open for a little!" Sylvia had stood by in silence. I saw by her face that the Frenchman's sudden appearance had caused her the greatest alarm and dismay. If Delanne was her father's friend, why did the latter flee in such fear? Why had he implored me to save him? From what? The Frenchman seemed highly disappointed, for finding the waiter in the corridor he asked him in French which way the Englishman had fled. The waiter, however, declared that he had seen nobody in the corridor, a reply which sorely puzzled Delanne. "Where is he?" he demanded of Sylvia. "I have no idea," was her faltering reply. "He simply went into the next room a few moments ago." "And slipped out in an endeavour to make his exit, eh?" asked the man, with a short, harsh laugh. "I quite expected as much. That is why I intended to have a straight business talk with him." "He is in no mood to talk business just now," said my wife, and then--and only then--did I recollect that this man was the associate of the assassin Reckitt. This fact alone aroused my antagonism towards him. Surely I was glad that Pennington had got away if, as it seemed, he did not wish to meet his unwelcome visitor. "He _shall_ talk business!" cried the Frenchman, "and very serious business!" Then turning, he hurried along the corridor in the direction of the main staircase and disappeared. "What does all this mean?" I asked Sylvia, who still stood there pale and panting. "I--I don't know, Owen," she gasped. Then, rushing across to the window, she looked out. "That man has gone!" she cried. "I--I knew he was watching, but had no idea of the reason." "He was evidently watching for your father," I said. "He was watching us--you and I--not him." We heard two men pass the door quickly. One of them exclaimed in French-- "See! The window at the end! It would be easy to get from there to the roof of the next house." "Yes!" cried his companion. "He has evidently gone that way. We must follow." "Hark!" I said. "Listen to what they are saying! Delanne is following your father!" "He is his worst enemy," she said simply. "Do you not remember that he was watching him in Manchester?" The fact that he was an associate of Reckitt puzzled me. I felt highly resentful that the fellow should have thus intruded upon my privacy and broken up my very pleasant evening. He had intruded himself upon me once before, causing me both annoyance and chagrin. I looked forth into the corridor, and there saw the figures of two men in the act of getting through the window at the end, while a waiter and a _femme-de-chambre_ stood looking on in surprise.