"I don't know," I answered; "but something--something. At least, we could not assume the responsibility of delay." "No," he agreed; "perhaps not. You are doubtless quite right to investigate. I wish you success--I wish that I myself might aid you, there is so much of interest in the case to me; but I fear that to be impossible. I must rest--I who have so many affairs calling me, so little desire to rest! Is not the fate ironical?" And he breathed a sigh, which was doubtless genuine enough. "Will you go to Paris?" I asked. "Oh, no; not at once. At Havre I shall meet my agent and transact my affairs with him. Then I shall seek some place of quiet along the coast." "Yes," I said to myself, with leaping heart, "Etretat!" But I dared not speak the word. "I shall write to you," he added, "when I have settled. Where do you stay at Paris?" "We haven't decided yet," I said. "We?" he repeated. "Didn't I tell you? Mr. Royce, our junior partner, is with me--he's had a breakdown in health, too, and needed a rest." "It is no matter where you stay," he said; "I shall write to you at the _poste restante_. I should like both you and your friend to be my guests before you return to Amer-ric'." There was a courtesy, a cordiality in his tone which almost disarmed me. Such a finished scoundrel! It seemed a shame that I couldn't be friends with him, for I enjoyed him so thoroughly. "We shall be glad to accept," I answered, knowing in my heart that the invitation would never be made. "You're very kind." He waved his hand deprecatingly, then let it fall upon the bed with a gesture of weariness. I recognized the sign of dismissal. I was ready to go; I had accomplished all I could hope to accomplish; if I had not already disarmed his suspicions, I could never do so. "I am tiring you!" I said, starting up. "How thoughtless of me!" "No," he protested; "no"; but his voice was almost inaudible. "I will go," I said. "You must pardon me. I hope you will soon be better," and I closed the door behind me with his murmured thanks in my ears. It was not till after dinner that I found opportunity to relate to Miss Kemball the details of my talk with Martigny. She listened quietly until I had finished; then she looked at me smilingly. "Why did you change your mind?" she asked. "The adventure tempted me--those are your own words. I thought perhaps I might be able to throw Martigny off the track." "And do you think you succeeded?" "I don't know," I answered doubtfully. "He may have seen clear through me." "Oh, I don't believe him superhuman! I believe you succeeded." "We shall know to-morrow," I suggested. "Yes--and you must keep up the deception till the last moment. Remember, he will be watching you. He mustn't see you take the train for Etretat." "I'll do my best," I said. "And don't make mountains out of mole-hills. You see, you've been distrusting yourself needlessly. One mustn't be too timid!"