"Speak," she said at last, after seeming to hesitate, halting on the edge of the pavement. "Oh, not here; surely you will accept a glass?" The young woman made up her mind: "Very well, if you like." The couple directed their steps toward a neighbouring "brasserie," and neither the young man nor Josephine dreamed of noticing that a passer-by entered the place in their wake. Fandor did not take a seat at one of the little tables outside, but made for the interior, cleverly finding means to watch the two in a glass. "Is this the person Josephine was to meet?" he wondered. "Can he be a messenger of Loupart's? Yet she did not seem to know him. Hullo!" Just as the waiter was bringing two glasses of wine to the table where Josephine and her partner had seated themselves, the young woman suddenly arose, and, without taking leave, made for the door. Fandor managed to pass close to the deserted man. He heard the waiter jokingly say: "Not very kind, the little lady, eh?" "I should think not! Didn't take her long to give me the slip." Then in a tone of regret the young man added: "Pity, she was a nice little thing." "That's all right," thought Fandor. "Now I know that Josephine accepted the drink because she thought he was sent by Loupart or one of the gang. Once enlightened as to his real object, she left him abruptly." Tracking the young woman, Fandor now felt sure he was going to witness an interesting meeting. Josephine, however, seemed in no hurry. She inspected the illustrated papers in the kiosks, and presently reached the box where platform tickets are distributed; having taken one, she sat down near the foot of the staircase which leads to the refreshment rooms. Behind her Fandor also took a ticket, and, going up the stairs, leaned against the balustrade. "I am waiting for some one," he said to the waiter who appeared. "You may bring me a cup of coffee." Scarcely five minutes had passed, when Fandor saw a shabby looking man approach Josephine and begin an earnest conversation. The man drew from his pocket a greasy note-book. From it he took a paper which he handed to the young woman, who promptly put it away in her handbag. Fandor was puzzled. "Where was she going? Why did this person hand her a ticket?" The man pointed to a train where passengers were already taking their seats. "The Marseilles train! So Loupart has left Paris!" Then he called a messenger. "Go and get me a first-class ticket to Marseilles. Here is money. Is there a telegraph office near at hand?" "On the arrival platform, sir." "Right. I will give you a message to take; go and hurry back." Fandor took out his note-book and scrawled a message: "Juve, Prefecture of Police, Room 44. "Have met Josephine and followed her. She is off first class, by Marseilles train. Don't know her destination. Will wire you as soon as there's anything fresh. "Fandor." XIII