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Their method was the marvel of the unimaginative Terrapin, who made some philosophic comments upon the "spooney" socially considered, and cut their acquaintance. They breakfasted at the cremery at seven o'clock with the ouvriers, and dined at one of Duvall's bouillon establishments. Suzette found the work easier as she progressed.
In fact there had apparently been no results at all. Duvall's first move, after leaving Mrs. Morton's apartment that morning, was to enter the taxicab which had been waiting for him at the door and return to his hotel. A light overcoat which he had in the vehicle concealed his workman's disguise sufficiently to enable him to reach his room without exciting comment.
Another movement, and the room Was flooded with the yellow glow of an electric lamp, which seemed dingy and wan, compared with the cold brilliance which it displaced. The dispelling of darkness brought to Duvall's brain a rush of sensations, among which the knowledge that he was once more in the lumber-room beneath the laboratory stood forth with overwhelming prominence.
A thorough search of Duvall's baggage Dufrenne, it seemed, had none disclosed nothing, except certain documents setting forth that the latter was Richard Duvall, an American citizen. It was these papers, in fact, which Duvall had shown to Mr. Phelps earlier in the day.
Duvall's companion sprang to her assistance, while Duvall himself snatched the object which had so affected her from her hand and hastily examined it. It was a photograph of Ruth Morton herself, but Duvall, as he gazed at it, comprehended instantly the effect it had produced upon the girl's over-wrought nerves.
The thought that he might never see them again left him with a great sense of loneliness. "Good-by, my dear boy," he said, grasping Duvall's hand in both of his, as he stood beside the door of the automobile which was to take the happy pair to the railway station.
She lay in bed, praying that there might yet be time in which to save Richard from Hartmann's machinations. What it was that the latter was doing to him, she could not guess, but the look of agony on Duvall's face told her that his sufferings, from some cause, were very great. After a long time the day broke, and she dressed and managed to choke down a little breakfast.
Without a moment's hesitation he crossed to the study door and tapped lightly upon it. As he did so, his back was toward Seltz, hence the latter did not see the swift movement, by which he conveyed the snuff box to the pocket of his waistcoat. When, after a few moments' delay, Dr. Hartmann appeared on the threshold, Duvall's hands were both quite empty.
The last thing that sounded in Richard Duvall's ears as he left the office of Monsieur Lefevre, Prefect of Police of Paris, were the latter's words, spoken in a voice of mingled confidence and alarm, "The fortunes of a nation may depend upon your faithfulness. Go, and God be with you."
"In his room at the hotel, perhaps his portmanteau," the doctor said, eagerly, releasing Duvall's hands and throwing him to one side with some violence. Mayer looked grave. "I have searched everything thoroughly. It is not there." The doctor muttered an oath. "The other the old Frenchman?" "He was arrested to-night on a charge of irregularity in his passport. Nothing discovered.
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