“Here, I wrote it down so as not to forget,” and O’Hara, after fumbling in his breast pocket, produced an envelope on which was written:

Overcome with joy. I never gave up hope. God bless you.—Mother.

Grey turned to the window again, his eyes as wet as the panes. After a little he asked:

“And that was the only one?”

84 “杭州按摩服务 The only one.”

Then Hope had not answered. She believed him guilty, of course. It would have been better to have let her, like the rest of the world, think him dead. What a trickster is the weaver of dreams! How real had seemed his vision, and yet how untrue! And he had thought of going to her as fast as the speediest ocean liner could take him. Oh, yes, he was awake now; wide, wide awake.

“I couldn’t get the box at the Gare du Nord,” O’Hara continued. “They’d given a brass or something for it and had no record of your name or Schlippenbach’s either. You had better ask Johann about it, or Lutz.”

“I will,” said Grey.

A hearse had stopped before the door, and he began now putting on his gloves.

“No,” he added as he buttoned the grey suèdes, “I’m not going back to America, O’Hara. Maybe I’ll never go back. I’m going to Schlippenbach’s funeral now, and I’m going to follow this thing to the end of the route if it takes me through hell.” His face was very set and solemn, and he spoke85 with a determination that made O’Hara’s eyes dance.

“Bravo, lad!” he cried, enthusiastically. “I still 杭州倾城会所 have two months’ leave, and I’ll go with you, hand in hand, every step of the way.”

The drive to Père-la-Chaise was very long and very boresome. Captain Lindenwald was not inclined to conversation and Grey dared not attempt to lead in the direction he wished, for fear of revealing how little he knew of what had been prearranged. He gathered, however, that it had been planned to start for Budavia early in the following week and that the death of Herr Schlippenbach was not to interfere with this arrangement; but of what they were going for—of what was to follow their arrival, he could glean no



On the return from the cemetery, however, an incident occurred which he regarded as significant, though it only added to his perplexity. The carriage had just crossed the Place de la République, past the great bronze statue which 杭州夜生活有什么好玩的 adorns the square, and was rolling leisurely along the Boulevard St. Martin, when Lindenwald suddenly drew back in the corner in evident trepidation,86 catching Grey’s arm and dragging him back with him.

“For God’s sake!” he whispered, excitedly. “Did you see that man?”

“What man?” Grey asked, a little annoyed. He had seen a score of men. The day was waning; the rain had ceased and there was the usual crowd that throngs the boulevards at the green hour.

Lindenwald clutched him tightly for a moment, huddled away from the window of the voiture. At this point the sidewalks are somewhat


higher than the roadway and they had both been looking up at the pedestrians, more interested in the procession than in each other.

“He was standing in front of the Folies Dramatiques,” Lindenwald explained, presently; “his presence here means no 杭州保健按摩电话 good.”

“But who?” Grey persisted.

“It was the Baron von Einhard. You know who the Baron von Einhard is. Ah! It is very plain. In some way, in spite of all our precautions, Hugo has got word. We must now be more than careful. The Baron, my dear Herr Arndt,87 would not hesitate one little—one very little moment to cut your throat if he got the chance.” Lindenwald shut his teeth tight, puckered his lips, and peered convincingly at Grey between half-lowered lids.

The American crushed back an exclamation of surprise. In its place he substituted an inquiry.

“What is the Baron like?” he asked, wondering whether he had seen him. The question was a risk, but he ventured.

“He is small, dark, sharp-featured. He looks more like an Italian than a Budavian, and he is vengeful. He is, too, oh, so shrewd! Six assassinations are at his door, and 杭州男士私人养生会所yet—positively, Herr Arndt, what I say is true—not one of them can be brought home to him.”

“You are quite sure it was he whom you saw?”

“Oh, quite sure, of a certainty. I only trust he did not see us. But his eyes are lynx-like. If he saw us you can be assured we are even now being followed. Will it be too warm, do you think, if I lower the shade? He is not here alone, and they are on the lookout.”

“As you think best,” Grey replied. And Captain88 Lindenwald pulled down the silk covering of the window.

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