No vehicle was in sight, and Westerham set himself to tramp up the hill to the Hôtel de la Cloche, at which he had stayed long years before, and of which he still entertained a lively recollection of its cleanness and its quaintness. The hotel slept, and Westerham heard the bell pealing through the silent house as he stood shivering and waiting on the doorstep. Presently he heard the sound of bolts being withdrawn and a shock-headed night porter thrust his face out into the damp morning air. The sight of Westerham's tall figure drew his immediate attention. “What does Monsieur require?” he asked in accents which were at once civil and surprised. “Let me in,” said Westerham, “and I will do my best to explain.” The man switched on the electric light, and Westerham, treading warily on the polished parquet floor, made his way to a seat. He was feeling fatigued and not a little miserable. First he took the precaution of drawing a couple of half-crowns from his pocket and slipping them into the man's hand. “You need not be alarmed at my appearance,” he said. “I am not a fugitive from justice. I am merely an English gentleman who has lost his friends and who is in search of them. “Tell me if you have staying in this hotel a very tall young English lady with dark hair and dark eyes? It is possible that she is travelling _incognito_, but if she has given her right name it will be the Lady Kathleen Carfax.” The man scratched his head and looked worried. “I would help Monsieur if I could,” he said, “but I can only assure him that there is no English lady staying in this hotel at all. Alas! the season is very bad, and we have few English visitors.” That Lady Kathleen was not at the Hôtel de la Cloche did not disconcert Westerham very much. He had foreseen that she was hardly likely to stay in the most prominent hotel in the town. He had merely called there because he knew that if one wishes to make one's path smooth in a foreign city it is just as well first to win the confidence of some hotel porter. “It is many years,” he said to the man, “since I stayed here. In fact, I have practically no recollection of Rouen except of this hotel and the cathedral. I should therefore be very much obliged if you could furnish me with a complete list of all the hotels where English people are likely to be found.” “Why now,” said the man, “that is an exceedingly simple affair.” And he rattled off a list of hotels. Westerham repeated them after him, but found he could not remember so many. Therefore he wrote them down. “And you think,” he asked, “that this is a complete list?” “Quite complete, I should say,” said the man, “for Monsieur's purpose.” With a weary air Westerham rose from the cane-backed chair on which he was seated. “I am sorry to have disturbed you,” he said to the porter, “but I must go in search of this lady at once.”