Stiff as a sleepy hare, I stumbled into the hall. "_Le train pour Paris!_" I shouted. "_Ou est le train pour Paris?_" "This way!" cried Piers, passing me like a stag. I continued to shout ridiculously, running behind him. I saw him come to a barrier ... ask and be answered.... try to push through.... The officials sought to detain him. A whistle screamed.... With a roar I flung aside the protesting arms and carrying Piers with me, floundered on to the platform. A train was moving. Feeling curiously weak-kneed, I got carefully upon the step of a passing coach. Piers stepped on behind me and thrust me up to the door. Then a conductor came and hauled us inside. * * * * * I opened my eyes to see Adèle's face six inches away. "Better, old chap," she said gently. I tried to sit up, but she set a hand upon my chest. "Don't say I fainted?" I said. She smiled and nodded. "But I understand," she said, "that you have a wonderful excuse." "Not for ser-wooning," said I. "Of course we did hurry, but...." Piers burst in excitedly. "There isn't another driver in all----" "Rot," said I. "Jonah would have done it with a quarter of an hour to spare." So he would. My cousin would have walked to the train and had a drink into the bargain. * * * * * While the train thundered northward through a drowsy world, a council of five sat up in a _salon lit_ and laid its plans. By far its most valuable member was Señor Don Fedriani, travelling by chance from Biarritz to the French capital.... It was, indeed, in response to his telegram from Poitiers that, a few minutes before seven o'clock the next morning, two detectives boarded our train at the _Gare Austerlitz_. Five minutes later we steamed into the _Quai d'Orsay_. Jill, carefully primed, was the first to alight. Except for Piers, Duke of Padua, the rest of us followed as ordinary passengers would. It was, of course, plain that we had no connection with Jill.... That Mr. Leslie Trunk should meet her himself was quite in order. That, having thus put his neck into the noose, he should proceed to adjust the rope about his dew-lap, argued an unexpected generosity. 'Yes, he had sent the wire. He had taken that responsibility. How was Piers? Well, there was plenty of hope.' He patted her delicate hand. 'She must be brave, of course.... Yes, he had just left him. He was in a nursing-home--crazy to see her. They would go there at once.' We all went 'there' at once--including Piers, Duke of Padua. Mr. Leslie Trunk, Señor Don Fedriani, and the two police-officers shared the same taxi. 'There' we were joined by Mrs. Trunk. The meeting was not cordial, neither was the house a nursing-home. I do not know what it was. A glance at the proportions of the blackamoor who opened the door suggested that it was a bastile. * * * * * It was thirty hours later that Berry pushed back his chair.