I was greatly interested, even though I was now filled with suspicion. Somehow I had become impressed with the idea that the stranger might have been one of the daring and dangerous association, and that he had related that strange story for the purpose of misleading me. But the stranger, who had, in the course of our conversation, told me that his name was Pierre Delanne, only said-- "You could have read it all in the _Matin_, my dear monsieur." His attitude was that of a man who knew more than he intended to reveal. Surely it was a curious circumstance, standing there in the night, listening to the dramatic truth concerning the big-faced American, Harriman, whom I had for so long regarded as an enigma. "Tell me, Monsieur Delanne," I said, "for what reason have you followed me to London?" He laughed as he strode easily along at my side towards the Duke of York's steps. "Haven't I already told you that I did not purposely follow you?" he exclaimed. "Yes, but I don't believe it," was my very frank reply. He had certainly explained that, but his manner was not earnest. I could see that he was only trifling with me, trifling in an easy, good-natured way. "_Bien!_" he said; "and if I followed you, Monsieur Biddulph, I assert that it is with no sinister intent." "How do I know that?" I queried. "You are a stranger." "I admit that. But you are not a stranger to me, my dear monsieur." "Well, let us come to the point," I said. "What do you want with me?" "Nothing," he laughed. "Was it not you yourself who addressed me?" "But you followed me!" I cried. "You can't deny that." "Monsieur may hold of me whatever opinion he pleases," was Delanne's polite reply. "I repeat my regrets, and I ask pardon." He spoke English remarkably well. But I recollected that the international thief--the man who is a cosmopolitan, and who commits theft in one country to-night, and is across the frontier in the morning--is always a perfect linguist. Harriman was. Though American, with all his nasal intonation and quaint Americanisms, he spoke half-a-dozen Continental languages quite fluently. My bitter experiences of the past caused considerable doubt to arise within me. I had had warnings that my mysterious enemies would attack me secretly, by some subtle means. Was this Frenchman one of them? He saw that I treated him with some suspicion, but it evidently amused him. His face beamed with good-nature. At the bottom of the broad flight of stairs which lead up to the United Service Club and Pall Mall, I halted. "Now look here, Monsieur Delanne," I said, much puzzled and mystified by the man's manner and the curious story he had related, "I have neither desire nor inclination for your company further. You understand?"