If you could have travelled the world at that moment, from north to south, and from east to west, I believe you would have found it difficult to discover a man who felt as foolish as I did when I entered the gloomy dwelling-place as Hayle’s prisoner. To say that I was mortified by the advantage he had obtained over me would not express my feelings in the least. To think that I, George Fairfax, who had the reputation of being so difficult a man to trick, should have allowed myself to fall into such a palpable trap, seemed sufficiently incredible as to be almost a matter for laughter rather than rage. There was worse, however, behind. Miss Kitwater had been so trustful of my capability for bringing the matter to a successful conclusion, that I dared not imagine what she would think of me now. Whichever way I looked at it, it was obvious that Hayle must score. On the one side, he kept me locked up while he not only made his escape from Paris, but by so doing cut off every chance of my pursuing him afterwards; on the other, he might console himself with the almost certain knowledge that I should be discredited by those who had put their trust in me. How could it very well be otherwise? I had committed the criminal folly of accepting hospitality from the enemy, and from that moment I should not be seen. The natural supposition would be that I had been bought, and that I was not only taking no further interest in the case, but that I was keeping out of the way of those who did. To add to my misery, I could easily imagine the laugh that would go up on the other side of the Channel when the trick that had been played upon me became known. But having so much else to think of, that fact, you may be sure, did not trouble me very much. There were two things, however, about which I was particularly anxious; one was to set myself right with Miss Kitwater, and the other was to get even, at any cost, with Hayle. The first seemed the more difficult.

It must not be supposed that when I had alighted from the carriage I had given up all hope of escape. On the contrary, had it not been for the presence of three burly fellows, who immediately took up their places beside me, I fancy I should have made a dash for liberty. Under the circumstances, however, to have attempted such a thing would have been the height of folly. Five to one, that is to say, if I include the coachman in the number, with the gates closed behind me, were too long odds, and however hard I might have fought, I could not possibly have been successful.

“Perhaps you will be kind enough to step into the house,” said Hayle. “The air is cold out here, and I am afraid lest you might take a chill.”

Before complying with his order I looked round me once more to see if there was any chance of escape. But so far as I could see there was not one. I accordingly followed one of my captors into the building, the remainder bringing up the rear.

From what I could see of the house with the help of the light from a solitary candle hanging in a sconce upon the wall, it had once been a handsome building. Now, however, it had fallen sadly to decay. The ceiling of the hall had at one time been richly painted, but now only blurred traces of the design remained. Crossing the hall, my guide opened a door at the further end. In obedience to a request from Hayle, I entered this room, to find myself standing in a fine apartment, so far as size went, but sadly lacking in comfort where its furniture was concerned. There was a bed, a table, three rough chairs, and an entirely inadequate square of carpet upon the floor. I have already said that it was a large room, and when I add that it was lighted only by two candles, which stood upon the table in the centre, some idea will be afforded of its general dreariness.

“Now look here, Mr. Hayle,” I said, “the time has come for us to have a serious talk together. You know as well as I do that in kidnapping me you are laying yourself open to very serious consequences. If you think that by so doing you are going to prevent me from eventually running you to earth, you are very much mistaken. You have obtained a temporary advantage over me, I will admit; but that advantage will not last. Do not flatter yourself that it will.”

“I am not so sure upon that point,” said Hayle, lighting a cigarette as he spoke. “If I did not think so I should not have gone to all this trouble and expense. But why make such a fuss about it? You must surely understand, Mr. Fairfax, that your profession necessarily entails risks. This is one of them. You have been paid to become my enemy. I had no personal quarrel with you. You can scarcely blame me, therefore, if I retaliate when I have an opportunity. I don’t know what you may think of it, but the mere fact of you dining with me to-night is very likely to go hard with you, so far as your clients are concerned. Would it be a good advertisement for the famous George Fairfax to have it known that, while he was taking his clients’ money he was dining pleasantly in Paris with the man they were paying him to find? I laid my trap for you, but I must confess that I had not very much faith in its success. Your experience should have made you more wary. A student of human character, such as you are, should know that the leopard cannot change his spots, or the tiger his

“If you continue in this strain much longer,” I said, “I’ll endeavour to stop your tongue, whatever it may cost me. Now, either let me out, or get out of the room yourself. I want to see no more of you while I am in this house.”

He blew a cloud of smoke, and then said nonchalantly

“You had better occupy yourself thanking your stars that you are let off so easily. At one time I was tempted to have you put out of the way altogether. I am not quite certain it wouldn’t be safer, even now. It could be done so easily, and no one would be any the wiser. I know two men now in Paris who would gladly run the risk for the sake of the ill-will they bear you. I must think it over.”

“Then think it over on the other side of that door,” I said angrily. “Play the same traitorous trick on me as you did on Kitwater and Codd if you like, but you shall not stay in the same room with me now.”

My reference to Kitwater and Codd must have touched him on a raw spot, for he winced, and then tried to bluff it off.

“I rather fancy Messrs. Kitwater and Codd will just have such kindly things to say concerning you in the future as they do about me now,” he said, as he moved towards the door. “And now I will wish you good-bye. As I leave Paris almost immediately, I don’t suppose I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again. For your own sake I should advise you to be quiet. I might tell you once and for all that you can’t get out. The door is a stout one, and the windows are exceptionally well barred. The men to whom I have assigned the duty of looking after you are in their way honest, though a little rough. Moreover, they are aware that their own safety depends to a very great extent upon your not getting out. Believe me, if you do not know already, that there is nothing like fear for making a good watch-dog. Farewell, friend Fairfax! You have been instrumental in sending a good many men into durance vile; you can tell me later how you like being there yourself.”

With that he went out, shutting the door behind him. I heard the key turn in the lock, and a bolt shot at top and bottom. I thereupon went to the window and examined it, only to discover that it was made secure on the outside by large iron bars. So far as I could see, there was no other way of escape from the room.

Though I laid down on the bed I did not sleep; my thoughts would not permit of that. The face of the woman who had trusted me so profoundly was before me continually, gazing at me with sweet reproachful eyes. Oh! what a fool I had been to accept that rascal’s invitation! The more I thought of it, the angrier I became with myself. Now, goodness only knew how long I should be confined in this wretched place, and what would happen during my absence from the world!

At last the dawn broke, and with it, a weird sickly light penetrated the room. I sprang from my bed and approached the window, only to find that it overlooked a small courtyard, the latter being stoneflagged and surrounded by high walls. I could see that, even if I were able to squeeze my way out between the bars, I should be powerless to scale the walls. At a rough guess these were at least twelve feet high, and without a foothold of any sort or description. This being so I was completely at the mercy of the men in the house. Indeed, a rat caught in a trap, was never more firmly laid by the heels than I. At about half-past seven o’clock a small trap-door, which I had not noticed near the ground and the main door, was opened, and a grimy hand made its way in and placed upon the floor a cup of coffee and a roll. Then it was closed once more and made secure. I drank the coffee and munched the roll, and, if the truth must be confessed, poor as they were felt the better for both.

At mid-day a bowl of miserable soup was handed in; darkness, however, had fallen some considerable time before I could detect any sound in the hall outside that might be taken to mean the coming of my evening meal. At last there was a clatter of feet, the bolts shot back, the key turned in the lock, and the door opened. A man carrying a lantern entered, followed by two others, and as the light fell upon his face, I uttered a cry of astonishment, for he was none other than my old friend Leglosse, while behind him was the infallible Lepallard.

“Well, thank goodness we have found you at last,” cried Leglosse. “We have had such a hunt for you as man never dreamed of. I called at your apartments late last night, hoping to see you, on important business, but you had not returned from a dinner to which you had been invited. I called again this morning and was informed by the concierge that they had, up to that moment, seen nothing of you. When the good Lepallard informed me that you had left the restaurant in a cab with Monsieur Hayle, and that the latter had returned to his apartments this morning in a great hurry, only to leave them a short time after with his luggage, for the railway station, I began to grow uneasy. You have no idea what a day I have had looking for you, but it has been well spent, since we have the pleasure of seeing you again.”

“I shall be grateful to you all my life for the service you have rendered me,” I replied. “But how did you manage to gain admittance to this house?”

“It was quite easy; the birds had flown,” he answered. “Has the suspicion not struck you that they were going to clear out and leave you here to starve?”

“The brutes,” I answered. “But I’ll be even with their leader yet. And now let us get away from here as quickly as possible. Have you any idea where our man has gone?”

“To Naples,” Lepallard replied. “I disguised myself as a pompous old bourgeois, and I was behind him when he asked for his ticket and distinctly heard what he said.”

“Then I shall go after him at once,” I replied. “He will in all probability be off his guard. He will imagine me to be still locked up in this room, you see.”

“And I shall accompany you, if you will permit me,” said Leglosse.

“But why?” I asked in surprise. “What have you got to do with him? You have no case against him, and you cannot spare the time to do it simply out of kindness to me.”

“It’s not kindness, it’s business, my friend,” he replied. “You may not believe it, but I have a warrant for your man’s arrest.”

“On what charge?”

“On a charge of being concerned in a big embezzlement in Cochin China,” he answered. “We laid the other two men by the heels at the time, but the Englishman, who was the prime mover in it, we have never been able to lay our hands upon. I felt certain that day when I met him in Amsterdam, that I had seen him somewhere before. Ever since then I have been puzzling my brains to discover where it was, and why it was so familiar to me. A photograph was eventually sent us of the Englishman by the colonial authorities, but in that photograph he, the person I suspect, wears a beard and a heavy moustache. It is the same man, however, and the description, even to the mark upon the face, exactly tallies with Hayle. Now I think I can help you to obtain a rather unique revenge upon the man, that is to say, if you want it. From what you have so far told me, I understand that you have no evidence against him strong enough to justify the issue of a warrant. Well, I have that evidence, and between us you may be sure we’ll bring him back to Paris.”

This was delightful hearing after all we had been through lately; at any rate I greeted the prospect of Leglosse’s co-operation with acclamation. It would be hard, if between us we could not find Hayle and bring him to the justice he so richly deserved.

“Now let us get out of this,” I said. “I must obtain something to eat if I perish in the attempt. I am well nigh starving. A basin of soup, a roll and a cup of coffee, are all that I have had to-day.”

“You shall dine at once,” he answered, “and here. There is an excellent little restaurant further down the street, and one of my men shall go there and tell them to bring you up a meal. After that you shall go home and change your costume, and then we will arrange what shall be done about the travelling.”

This programme was carried out to the letter. We made a good meal, at least I know that I did, and when it was eaten, a cab was procured, and in company with Leglosse I said good-bye to the house in which I had spent so short a time, yet in which I had been so miserable.

“I shall never know how to repay you for your kindness,” I said to my companion as we drove down the street. “Had it not been for you and your men I should now be starving in that wretched place. I’ll certainly forgive Hayle if he is ever successful enough to take me in again by one of his rascally tricks.”

“You must not let him do that,” returned the Frenchman, shaking his head. “Our reputations are at stake.”

When I reached my own apartments the concierge was much relieved to see me. She had been told that I was dead, perhaps murdered, and Leglosse’s visit to find me had not helped to reassure her. A packet of letters and telegrams was handed to me, which I carried up to my room, to read them while I was changing my attire. Never before had I been so glad to get out of a dress-suit.

I had just finished my toilet and was in the act of commencing the packing of the bag I intended taking with me, when there was a tap at the door. I opened it, to find the concierge there.

“There is a lady in the parlor to see Monsieur,” she said. “She has a maid with her.”

“A lady to see me?” I asked incredulously. “Who on earth can she be?”

The concierge shook her head. In my own mind I had arrived at the conclusion that it was Mademoiselle Beaumarais, and that Hayle had sent her to discover, if possible, whether I had escaped from my confinement or not. On finding out that I had she would telegraph to him, and once more he would be placed on his guard. At first I felt almost inclined not to see her, but on second thoughts I saw the folly of this proceeding. I accordingly entered the room where the lady was awaiting me. The light was not very good, but it was sufficient for me to see two figures standing by the window.

“To what am I indebted for the honour of this visit, mademoiselles?” I began.

“Don’t you know me, Mr. Fairfax?” the taller of them answered. “You forget your friends very quickly.”

“Miss Kitwater?” I cried, “what does this mean?”

“It is a long story,” she answered, “but I feel sure that you will have time to hear it now. I am in terrible trouble.”

“I am indeed sorry to hear that,” I answered, and then glanced at her maid as if to inquire whether it was safe to speak before her. She interpreted the look correctly and nodded her head.

“Yes, Mr. Fairfax,” she said, “you can say what you please before Nelly.”

“Then am I right in interpreting your trouble as being connected with your uncle?” I asked.

“Yes, that is it,” she answered. “You have guessed correctly. Do you know that he and Mr. Codd have disappeared?”

“Disappeared?” I repeated. “Have you any idea where they have disappeared to?”

“No, but I can hazard a very shrewd guess,” she replied. “I believe they have crossed to Paris in search of Mr. Hayle. Since last Sunday my uncle had been more depressed than ever, while the paroxysms of rage to which he is so subject, have been even more frequent than ever. If the truth must be told, I fear his troubles have turned his brain, for he talks to himself in such a queer way, and asks every few minutes if I have received news from you, that I cannot help thinking his mind is not what it should be. You must understand that on Saturday last, thinking it might possibly be required for the case, I drew a large sum of money from the bank; more than a hundred pounds, in fact. I securely locked it up in my writing-table, and thought no one knew anything about it. Yesterday afternoon my uncle and Mr. Codd went for a walk, and did not return, though I waited for them for several hours. While I was thus waiting I opened the drawer in the writing-table to procure something I wanted, and discovered that the money was missing. Only one construction could be placed upon it, Mr. Fairfax. They had wearied of their inactive life, and had set off in search of Hayle.”

“They are aware of his address in Paris, are they not?”

“Yes, my uncle repeated it from morning until night,” she answered. “In point of fact, he did little else. Oh! it terrifies me beyond measure to think what may happen should they meet.”

“You need not fear that,” I replied. “Hayle has tired of Paris and has bolted again. Very probably to a place where they cannot hope to find him.”

I believe she said “God be thanked” under her breath, but I am not quite certain upon that point. I did not tell her of the trick Hayle had so lately played upon myself. If the telling were necessary it would be able to come later on.

“May I ask what brought you to Paris, Miss Kitwater?” I inquired, after a pause.

“My great fear,” she answered. “I wired to you from Charing Cross to say that I was coming. Did you not receive my message?”

I remember the fact that, not having time to open them all before I was called away, I had put some of the telegrams on one side. As ill luck would have it, Miss Kitwater’s must have been amongst these. I explained that I had been away from the house all day, and only that moment returned.

“I felt,” she said, ignoring my excuses, “that I must come to you and tell you all that has transpired. Also that I might implore you to keep the men apart at any cost.”

“We can easily find out whether they have arrived in Paris, and also whether they have been to Hayle’s apartments,” I said. “That would certainly be one of the places which they would try first.”

While I was speaking there was the sound of a step in the corridor outside and next moment Leglosse entered the room. He was in the highest spirits, as he always was when he was about to undertake a new piece of work. Seeing that I had visitors he came to a sudden standstill.

“A thousand pardons,” he said in French. “I had no idea that you were engaged. I will wait outside.”

“Don’t do anything of the kind,” I returned in the same language. “Come in and let me introduce you to Miss Kitwater, who has just arrived from England.”

“Miss Kitwater?” he repeated, in some surprise. “Surely I understood you to say that your client, the gentleman who had lost his sight through Hayle’s treachery, was Monsieur Kitwater?”

“That is quite right, and this lady is his niece,” I returned. “She has brought me extraordinary intelligence. Her uncle and his companion have suddenly disappeared from the little village in Surrey, where they have been staying some time with her. It is her belief that they have come to Paris in search of Hayle. There would have been trouble had they met, but fortunately for them, and for Hayle, he has given them the slip once more. It would be possible for you to find out whether they arrived by this morning’s train, and also whether they have made inquiries at Hayle’s apartments, would it not?”

“Quite possible,” he answered. “It shall be done at once. I will let you know in less than an hour what I have discovered.”

I thanked him, whereupon he bowed to Miss Kitwater, and then disappeared.

“Monsieur Leglosse is also in pursuit of Hayle,” I explained. “He holds a warrant for his arrest on a charge of embezzlement in Cochin China. For that reason we are following him to Naples to-morrow morning.”

“To Naples. Has the wretched man gone there?”

“So we have been led to believe,” I answered.

“Then do you think my uncle will find it out and follow him?” she asked, wringing her hands. “Oh! it is all too terrible. What shall I do?”

“Well, if I might be allowed to be like David Copperfield’s Mr. Dick, I should be practical, and say ‘dine’! I suppose you have had nothing to eat since you left England?”

She gave a little wan smile.

“We have not had very much, certainly,” she answered. “Poor Nelly, you must be nearly starving.”

The maid, however, protested that she was not; but was not to be denied. Bidding them remain where they were, I went down-stairs and interviewed my faithful friend, the concierge. With her I arranged that Miss Kitwater and her maid should be provided with rooms in the house for that night, and having done so went on to the nearest restaurant. In something less than ten minutes all was settled, and in under twenty they were seated at their meal. At first the girl would not sit down with her mistress, but with her usual thoughtfulness, Miss Kitwater ordered her to do so.

“And now, Mr. Fairfax,” she said, when they had finished, “we must discover a hotel where we can stay the night. At present we know of no place in which to lay our heads.”

“You need not trouble about that,” I said, “I have already arranged that you shall have rooms in this house if you care to occupy them. The old lady to whom it belongs is a particular friend of mine, and will certainly do her best to make you comfortable. I presume that it was your bag I saw in the concierge’s office, when I was there just now?”

“We left it there,” she answered, and then gave me my reward by adding “It is very kind of you, Mr. Fairfax to have taken so much trouble. I cannot thank you sufficiently.”

“You must not thank me at all,” I replied. “In helping you I am only doing my duty to my client.”

I had scarcely said the words before I regretted them. It was a foolish speech and a churlish one as well. She pretended not to notice it, however, but bade her maid go down to the concierge’s office, and take the bag to the room that had been allotted to her. The girl disappeared, and when she had gone Miss Kitwater turned to me.

“Mr. Fairfax,” she said, “I have yet another favour to ask of you. I assure you it concerns me vitally. I want to know if you will let me go with you to Naples. In order that I might not be in your way, we might travel in different compartments; but go I must. I am so frightened about my uncle. If I follow him to Naples, it is just possible I might be able to dissuade him from pursuing Hayle. If he were to kill me for preventing them, I would not let them meet. Believe me when I say that I am terribly anxious about him. Besides

Here she paused for a moment as if she did not quite know how to continue what she had to say to me.

“As I have said, you and Monsieur I mean the French gentleman could travel in your own way. All that I want to be assured of is, that I may be in Naples and at hand should anything happen.”

“If you really wish it, I do not see why you should not go?” I replied meditatively. “But if you desire my candid opinion I must say that I think you would be far better off at home. Still if you desire to come, it’s not for me to gainsay your wishes. We will arrange therefore that, unless you decide to the contrary in the meantime, you accompany us by the 8.50 train to-morrow morning.”

“I thank you,” she said.

A few moments later Leglosse returned with the information that it was as we suspected. Kitwater and Codd had arrived in Paris that morning, and had visited Hayle’s lodgings only to find him gone.

“What is more important still,” he continued, “they have managed to learn that Hayle had gone to Naples, and they will probably leave by the 2.50 train to-morrow morning for that city: It is as well, perhaps, that we arranged to travel by the next.”

“Courage, courage, Miss Kitwater,” I said, seeing that she was trembling. “Try not to be frightened. There is nothing to fear.” Then turning to Leglosse, I added “Miss Kitwater has decided to accompany us to Naples. As a matter of fact my position in the case has undergone a change since I last saw you.”

He looked from one to the other of us as if in astonishment.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Hitherto,” I replied, “I have been acting against Hayle, with the intention of securing him, in order that my clients might have a most important meeting with him. For the future, however, my endeavours will be used in the contrary direction. They must never meet!”

“Then the best way to bring about what you desire is to assist me,” returned Leglosse. “Let me once get my hand upon him in the name of France, and they will never meet.”

“But we have to catch him before we do that,” I said.

“Never-fear, we will do it,” he answered confidently, and that seemed to settle it.

Next morning at 8.50, we left Paris for Naples.