'There has hardly been time,' said Desmoulin to me, 'but there will probably be something fresh this afternoon. Those actresses are certain to tell people, and we shall have to make ourselves scarce.' I tried to cheer and tranquillise both him and M. Zola, and then arranged that Wareham should come to the hotel at 2 P.M. Meantime, said I, whatever M. Desmoulin might do, it would be as well for M. Zola to remain indoors. Several commissions were entrusted to me, and I went off, promising to return about noon. I betook myself first to Messrs. Chatto and Windus's in St. Martin's Lane, where I arrived a few minutes before ten o'clock. Neither Mr. Chatto nor his partner, Mr. Percy Spalding, had as yet arrived, and I therefore had to wait a few minutes. When Mr. Spalding made his appearance he greeted me with a smile, and while leading the way to his private room exclaimed, 'So our friend Zola is in London!' To describe my amazement is beyond my powers. I could only gasp, 'How do you know that?' 'Why, my wife saw him yesterday in Buckingham Palace Road.' I was confounded. For my part I had scarcely glanced at the ladies whom Desmoulin had conjectured to be French actresses--simply because they were young, prepossessing, and spoke French!--and certainly I should not readily have recognised Mrs. Spalding, whom I had only met once some years previously. It now seemed to me rather fortunate that she should be the person who had recognised M. Zola, since she would naturally be discreet as soon as the situation should be made clear to her. After I had explained the position, I ascertained that the only person besides herself who knew anything so far were her husband and the lady friend who had accompanied her on the previous day. 'I will telegraph to my wife at once,' said Mr. Spalding, 'and you may be sure that the matter will go no further. We certainly had a hearty laugh at breakfast this morning when we read in the "Telegraph" of Zola bicycling over the Swiss frontier; but, of course, as from what you tell me, the matter is serious, neither my wife nor myself will speak of it.' 'And her friend?' I exclaimed, 'she knows nothing of the necessity for secrecy, and may perhaps gossip about it.' 'She is going to Hastings to-day.' 'Hastings!' said I, 'why M. Desmoulin, Zola's companion, does nothing but talk of going to Hastings! I am glad I know this. Hastings is barred for good, so far as Zola is concerned.' 'Well, I will arrange for my wife to see her friend this morning before she starts,' Mr. Spalding rejoined, 'and in this way we may be sure that her friend will say nothing.'