This method of seeking persons is most common in France, where, within twenty-four hours of your arrival, your passport and address have to be left at the prefecture's, under the penalty of a fine, should it not be done. It is needless to say that Minnie had not been inquiring for Lord Randolph, but following up what she had hoped might prove a trace of her all-absorbing thought, d'Estrées. Tremenhere said nothing; but, calmly thanking the official, walked forth. There was no cloud on his brow--nothing of anger or sorrow--but a cold, stern, desolation, far more dreadful to behold. At last the blow had fallen; there could be no longer any doubt, still less hope, of reclaiming her. She must be wickedly, wilfully bad, and false as the falsest thing that ever breathed. His brain, nevertheless, was in a chaos of perplexity. For whom could she have been inquiring? No one, perhaps; but why there? The residence of Lord Randolph, even in his own hotel, in nowise astonished him after a moment's thought,--it was a part of her unparalleled audacity. Those who have resided in France will know, how easily families may live for months in the same hotel or house, and never meet. Lord Randolph had come to Paris for a short time, and, disliking a regular hotel, had taken an _entresol_ in this most popular and fashionable street, without having an idea of meeting with the Tremenheres in any way. And thus an event, the most likely and commonplace, did more for Marmaduke Burton's revenge, than all his own plotting and scheming. Tremenhere returned home--he stopped carelessly in the _loge de concièrge_, and inquired, "If Lord Randolph Gray resided there?" "Yes," answered the man, "_milord_ has been here several days; but he does not go out much--he is not in good health, I think." "Thank you," was the calm reply, and Tremenhere turned from his door, and entered the gardens of the Tuileries. Here he proceeded to the loneliest part, and, relaxing his quick pace, reviewed all the events of this fatal day. Not for an instant did he doubt Minnie's perfect knowledge of Lord Randolph's being in their hotel. Here was no Burton--no Dalby to entangle their victims in a snare. How he laughed aloud at his own folly and blindness, in having been so long deceived. "In the very house with me!" he cried--"O, fool!--mad, blind fool! And O, woman!--falsest, basest! what a shrine, too, hath the devil chosen for his abode! so much seeming candour and lovely purity--even in the look. I could find it in my heart to shed tears of blood for this perverted creature, on whom I have lavished my soul's love, for I can never love again."