"Then I passed the police-guard at the door, and drove back to the Hotel de Bulgarie. "That night I slept but little. Before me constantly arose the childlike beautiful face of Olga Steinkoff that had so strangely bewitched me. "I knew that I was a fool to allow myself to be attracted by a pair of big eyes, confirmed bachelor and constant traveller that I am. Yet the whole night through I seemed to see before my vision the beautiful face, pale and tearful with grief and sorry. Was it at my departure? "Next day I set out in the car across the Shipka, and three nights later took up my quarters at that most expensive hotel, the `Boulevard,' at Bucharest, the Paris of the Near East. Next day I paid several visits to diplomats I knew. Bucharest is always full of life and movement-- smart uniforms and pretty women--perhaps the gayest city in all the Continent of Europe. "On the third evening of my arrival I returned to the hotel to dress for dinner, when, on entering my sitting-room, a neat female figure in a dark travelling-dress rose from an armchair, and stood before me gazing at me in silence. "It was Olga! "`Why, mademoiselle!' I cried, noticing that she was without her hat, `fancy you--in Bucharest! When did you arrive?' "`An hour ago,' she answered, breathlessly. `I--I want your assistance, M'sieur Martin. I am in danger--grave danger!' "`Danger! Of what?' "`I hardly know--except that the police may follow me and demand my arrest. This place--like Sofia--swarms with spies.' "`I know,' I said, much interested, but surprised that she should have thus followed me. `But why do you fear?' "`I surely need not explain to you facts--facts that are painful!' she said, looking straight at me half-reproachfully with those wonderful blue eyes that held me so fascinated. `I merely tell you that I am in danger, and ask you to render me assistance.' "`How? In what manner can I assist you?' "`In one way alone,' was her quick, breathless answer. `Ah! if you would only do it--if you would only save my life!' And with her white ungloved hands clenched in desperation, she stood motionless as a statue. "`Save your life!' I echoed. `I--I really don't understand you, mademoiselle.' "`Before they arrest me I will commit suicide. I have the means here!' and she touched the bodice of her dress. `Ah, m'sieur, you do not know in what a position I find myself. I prefer death to save my honour, and I appeal to you, an English gentleman to help me!' "Tears were rolling down her pale cheeks as she snatched up my hand convulsively, imploring me to assist her. I looked into her countenance and saw that it was the same that I had seen in those dark night hours in Sofia. "`But, mademoiselle, how can I help you?' I inquired. `What can I do?' "`Ah! I--I hardly like to ask you,' she said, her cheeks flushing slightly. `You know so very little of me.'