Calm, grey-faced, distinguished-looking and of gentlemanly bearing, surely no one would have ever dreamed that his character was such as it really had been proved to be. He offered me a cigarette, lit one himself, and all three of us went out for a stroll along the Boulevard and the Rue de la Paix. We lunched together in one of the little restaurants in the Palais Royal, but neither by word nor deed did Miller display any fear of recognition. I wondered in what direction Gavazzi had fled; and would have given a good deal to know how they had managed to get through those formidable bars which I had believed unbreakable. Lucie's father being with us the whole time, I had no opportunity of speaking to her alone. At three o'clock I left them at the hotel, and at nine that evening joined them in the night-mail for Calais and London. On board the steamer, Miller went below, while I got Lucie a deck-chair, wrapped her in an oilskin borrowed from a seaman, and sat beside her. The night was a perfect one, with a bright full moon shining over the Channel, and as we sat we watched the flashing light of Calais slowly disappearing at the stern. "Your father seems to be returning quite unexpectedly to England," I said presently, after she had been admiring the reflection of the moon upon the glittering waters. "Yes. I was quite surprised. He gave me no warning. Poor old dad is always so very erratic. He told me to meet him at the Metropole in Milan, and hardly gave me time to get there. I had to leave the house within an hour of receiving his wire." "Did he telegraph from Rome?" "No. From Ancona, on the Adriatic." So he had escaped at once to the other side of Italy without returning to Rome. "What has Ella told you in her letter?" "Nothing more than what I have already explained. She makes no mention of--of the man whom we need not name." "I am now going home to expose him," I said determinedly. "I have fully considered all the risks, and am prepared to run them." "Ah!" she cried, turning to me in quick alarm, "do not do anything rash, I beg of you, Mr Leaf! There is some mystery--a great mystery which I am, as yet, unable to fathom--but to speak at this juncture would assuredly only implicate her. Of that I feel sure from certain information already in my possession." "You've already told me that. But surely you don't think I can stand by and see her go headlong to her ruin without stretching forth a hand to save her. It is my duty, not only as her lover but also as a man. The fellow is a thief and a scoundrel." When we love much we ourselves are nothing, and what we love is all. "I only beg of you to be patient and be silent--at least for the present," she urged. Was she in fear, I wondered, lest any revelation I made should implicate her father? Was it possible that she had any suspicion that he was at that moment seeking asylum in his comfortable English home?