"You have done admirably," said Hilda; "nothing more was possible. I only wished you to watch, and you have watched to good purpose. This much is evident, from your reports, that Lord Chetwynde has some all-engrossing purpose. What it is can not be known now, but must be known some day. At present I must be content with the knowledge that his purpose exists." "I have formed some conjectures," said Gualtier. "On what grounds? On any other than those which you have made known to me?" "No. You know all." "Never mind, then. I also have formed conjectures, and have a larger and broader ground on which to build them. What I want is not conjectures of any kind, but facts. If you have any more facts to communicate, I should like very much to hear them." "Alas, my lady, I have already communicated to you all the facts that I know." Hilda was silent for some time. "You never spoke to Lord Chetwynde, I suppose?" said she at length. "Oh no, my lady; I did not venture to come into communication with him at all." "Did he ever see you?" "He certainly cast his eyes on me, once or twice, but without any recognition in them. I really don't think that he is conscious of the existence of a person like me." "Don't be too sure of that. Lord Chetwynde is one who can see every thing without appearing to see it. His eye can take in at one glance the minutest details. He is a man who is quite capable of making the discovery that you were the steward of Chetwynde. What measure did you take to avoid discovery?" Gualtier smiled. "The measures which I took were such that it would have puzzled Fouché himself to penetrate my disguise. I rode in the same compartment with him, all the way to London, dressed as an elderly widow." "A widow?" "Yes; with a thick black veil, and a very large umbrella. It is simply impossible that he could penetrate my disguise, for the veil was too thick to show my features." "But the hotel?" "At the hotel I was a Catholic priest, from Novara, on my way to America. I wore spectacles, with dark glasses. No friend could have recognized me, much less a stranger." "But if you went with the clerks of Pendergrast, that was an odd disguise." "Oh, when I went with them, I dropped that. I became an American naval officer, belonging to the ship _Niagara_, which was then in London. I wore a heavy beard and mustache, and talked through my nose. Besides, I would drink nothing but whisky and sherry cobblers. My American trip proved highly advantageous." "And do you feel confident that he has not recognized you?" "Confident! Recognition was utterly impossible. It would have required my nearest friend or relative to have recognized me, through such disguises. Besides, my face is one which can very easily be disguised. I have not strongly marked features. My face can easily serve for an Italian priest, or an American naval officer. I am always careful to choose only such parts as nature has adapted me for."