Then, sinking into the chair near the window,--this very chair beside which she now stood,--he had asked her to go out and attend to madame. Come to think of it, it was odd that he had been smiling. It was not quite natural for one to smile over as serious a matter as that. After all, even if Teddy was melodramatic, even if his shot had missed its mark, it was not a matter to take lightly. She seated herself in the chair he had occupied, and her hands dropped wearily to her side. Her fingers touched something sticky--something on the side of the chair next to the wall--something that the gendarmes had not noticed. She did not dare to move them. She was paralyzed, as if her fingers had met some cold, strange hand. For one second, two seconds, three seconds, she sat there transfixed, fearing, if she moved as much as a muscle, that something would spring at her from below--some awful fact. Then finally she did move. She moved slowly, with her eyes closed. Then, suddenly opening them wide, she saw her fingers stained carmine. She knew then why Monte had smiled. It was like him to do that. Running swiftly to her room, she called Marie as she ran. "Marie--my hat! Your hat! Hurry!" "Oh, mon Dieu!" exclaimed Marie. "Has anything happened?" "I have just learned what has already happened," she answered. "But do not alarm madame." It was impossible not to alarm madame. The mere fact that they were going out alarmed madame. Marjory stopped in the hall and quite coolly worked on her gloves. "We are going for a little walk in the sunshine," she said. "Will you not come with us?" Decidedly madame would not. She was too weak and faint. She should send for a friend to stay with her while she rested on her bed. "That is best for you," nodded Marjory. "Au revoir." With Marie by her side, she took her little walk in the sunshine, without hurrying, as far as around the first corner. Then she signaled for a cab, and showed the driver a louis d'or. "Hôtel Normandie. This is for you--if you make speed," she said. It was a wonder the driver was not arrested within a block; but it was nothing less than a miracle that he reached the hotel without loss of life. A louis d'or is a great deal of money, but these Americans are all mad. When Marie followed her mistress from the cab, she made a little prayer of thanks to the bon Dieu who had saved her life. Mademoiselle inquired of the clerk for Monsieur Covington. Yes, Monsieur Covington had reached the hotel some fifteen minutes before. But he was ill. He had met with an accident. Already a surgeon was with him. "He--he is not badly injured?" inquired Marjory. "I do not know," answered the clerk. "He was carried to his room in a faint. He was very white." "I will wait in the writing-room. When the surgeon comes down I wish to see him. At once--do you understand?" "Yes, mademoiselle."