"No, you won't. If you move a finger, I'll write and tell Gwennie Grey all about your elopement. Why, man, if you were a child of grace, you'd go down on your knees and implore me not to give you two columns in the 'Growler.' There, I was only joking. Don't look so blue. But I confess it's a strong temptation. Such sensations don't crop up every day; besides, messieurs the police are dying to know how _la belle_ Adele crossed the frontier." "Do you think," I said wearily, "that the proprietor of the _pension_ was an accomplice?" "Most assuredly not. He is an old resident, and gave his testimony with tears in his eyes, assuring the court that Jules von Dressdorf was one of the most docile, intelligent pupils he ever had under his roof." "And M. Danneris?" "Her father, I believe. His role was the man of reference, the respectable 'fence' who directs the game while others do the work." "Had my trouble with the police here anything to do with the matter?" "Not a bit of it. They are infernal rascals, reaping where they do not sow, and looking on careless travellers as legitimate game. Under the present _regime_ they make half their living out of passport irregularities." "I suppose," I added, "I had better notify the police at Brussels." "And be the laughing stock of Europe for your pains. No, Mortimer, lie quiet here for a week or two, then take steamer through the Mediterranean home. By the by, did Danneris advance you money for the journey?" "He gave me five hundred francs." "Then you are not so badly off after all. Make your mind easy about Mlle. Adele. She is hundreds of miles away by this." "I wonder why she did not run away from the hotel the night I went to the theatre." "_Quien sabe?_ Let the dead past bury its dead." * * * * * Seventeen years have passed since the occurrence of the events I have recorded, and never till yesterday have I seen or heard one word of Adele de la Voix. "Gwennie," said I to my dear little wife, on reaching my home in southern Michigan after a visit on business to Detroit, "you remember the heroine of my trip to Dressdorf castle, just before we were married?" "Surely," said the wife. "Well, I saw Adele de la Voix yesterday." "You didn't! When? Where?" "At a store in Gratiot avenue. I was making a purchase, when a woman entered--old-looking, homely, shabby; but there was no mistaking those black eyes, nor the sniff of the left nostril. When she was gone, I made some inquiries about her, and here is her business card: "MME. JULIENNE, from Paris, reveals the past, the present, and the future. Can be consulted on all affairs of love, business, or law, and overcomes trouble of any kind. She brings together the separated, causes speedy marriages, and sells infallible love powders. Go and see for yourself. No humbug here. "Rooms, etc." "And what are you going to do?" "Do? I don't know." "I do." "You wise woman, what is it?"