When I entered the courtyard of the Three Kings, the door of the garage stood open, and the first object my eyes met within it was the pursuing gray car. I stared at the thing, transfixed. In the march of events I had forgotten it. I was still gaping at it when madame came hurrying forth. “I have been watching,” she informed me, “for monsieur’s return. Friends of his arrived here soon after he left the house.” “The deuce they did!” I thought, dumb-founded. I judged prudence advisable. “They have names, these friends?” I inquired warily. “Without doubt, Monsieur,” she agreed, “but they did not offer them; and who am I to ask questions of the officers of France? They are bound on a mission, plainly. In time of war those so engaged talk little. They have eaten, and they have gone to their rooms, off the gallery to the west. And the fourth of their party--he alone wears no uniform; he is doubtless of monsieur’s land--asked of me a description of my guests, and exclaimed in great delight, saying that monsieur was his old friend, whom he had hoped to find here and with whom he must have speech the very moment that monsieur should return. I know no more.” It was enough. “He’s mistaken,” I said shortly. For the moment I really thought that this must be the case. Her broad, good-natured face was all astonishment. “But, Monsieur,” she burst forth, “he even told me, this gentleman, that such might be monsieur’s reply! And in that event he commanded me to beg monsieur to walk upstairs, since he had a thing of importance to reveal to monsieur--one best said behind closed doors!” I stared at her, my head humming like a top. Then, scrutinizingly, I looked about the court. The light in Miss Falconer’s room had been extinguished. Did that have some significance? Was she lying perdue because these people had come? In the rooms opening from the west gallery above the street entrance I could see moving shadows. The gray car had arrived, and it bore three officers of France for passengers. What could this mean? Of course, whoever had left the message had mistaken me for a confederate. I could not know any of the new arrivals; it was equally impossible that they could know me. None the less, with a slight, unaccustomed thrill of excitement, I resolved to accept the invitation as if in absolute good faith. It was a first-class chance to get inside those rooms, to use my eyes, to sound this affair a little, to learn whether these men were the girl’s pursuers. As army officers they could scarcely be her accomplices. Would they forestall me by arresting her, by taking her back to Paris? It was astonishing how distasteful I found the idea of that. I told madame that I thought I knew, now, who the gentlemen were. I climbed the west staircase with determination and knocked on the door of the first room that had a light. A voice from within, vaguely familiar, bade me enter, I did so immediately and closed the door.