"Exactly. She was your maid, and you parted bad friends. It was injudicious." "Where is she now, I wonder?" "At her home in Melun, near Paris. You must go at once to Paris, and ask her to meet you," Boyne said. "To Paris?" she cried in dismay. "Yes; not a second must be lost. Inquiries are on foot. I discovered the situation yesterday, quite by accident." "Inquiries!" she cried. "Who can be making inquiries?" "Some friend of that girl—a Frenchman. He has come over here to find me." "To find you! But she only knew you under the name of Bennett!" "Exactly. In that is our salvation," he said, with a grin. "But the affair is distinctly serious unless we can make peace with Céline, and at the same time make it worth her while to withdraw this inquiry. No doubt she’s looking forward to a big reward for furnishing information." "But why can’t we give her the reward—eh?" asked the shrewd, red-haired woman quickly. "That’s exactly my argument. That is why you must leave this present little matter, turn back to Céline, and make it right with her." "How much do you think it will cost?" Bernard Boyne shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever it is, we must pay," he replied. "We can’t afford for this girl to remain an enemy—and yours especially." "Of course not," Ena agreed. "What is her address?" Boyne took a slip of paper from his pocket-book and handed it to the handsome woman. "But what excuse can I possibly make for approaching her?" she asked bewildered. "Pretend you’ve come to Paris to offer to take her into your service again," Boyne suggested. "She will then meet you, and you can express regret that you sent her away so suddenly, and offer to make reparation—and all that." "There was an object in sending her away so peremptorily. You know what it was, Bernie." "I know, of course. She might have discovered something then. You adopted the only course—but, unfortunately, it has turned out to have been a most injudicious one, which may, if we are not very careful and don’t act at once, lead to the exposure of a very nasty circumstance—the affair of old Martin." "I quite see," she said. "I’ll go to Paris without delay." "You’ll stay at the Bristol, as before, I suppose?" "Yes. I will ask her to come and see me there." Boyne hesitated. "No. I don’t know whether it would not be better for you to go out to Melun for the day and find her there," he queried. "Remember, you must handle the affair with the greatest delicacy. You’ve practically got to pay her for blackmail which she has not sought." "That’s the difficulty. And the sum must be equal, if not more, to that which she and her French friend who has come over here to seek and identify you hope to get out of it by their disclosures. Oh! yes," she said, "I quite see it all."