"I hope my father has successfully escaped his enemies. It was,
however, a very narrow shave. If they had seen him, they would have
shot him dead, and afterwards declared it to have been an accident!"
"Surely not!" I cried. "That would have been murder."
"Of course. But they are desperate, and they would have wriggled out
of it somehow. That was why I feared for him. But, thank Heaven, he is
evidently safe."
And she turned from the window that looked forth into the Rue de
Rivoli, and then made an excuse to go to her room.
I saw that she was greatly perturbed. Her heart beat quickly, and her
face, once pale as death, was now flushed crimson.
"How your father got away so rapidly was simply marvellous!" I
declared. "Why, scarcely ten seconds elapsed from the time he closed
that door to Delanne's appearance on the threshold."
"Yes. But he instantly realized his peril, and did not hesitate."
"I am sorry, dearest, that this exciting incident should have so
upset our evening," I said, kissing her upon the brow, for she now
declared herself much fatigued. "When you have gone to your room, I
shall go downstairs and learn what I can about the curious affair.
Your father's enemies evidently knew of his arrival from Brussels, for
Delanne admitted that word of it was telephoned to Orleans, and he
came to Paris at once."
"Yes, he admitted that," she said hurriedly. "But do not let us speak
of it. My father has got away in safety. For me that is
all-sufficient. Good-night, Owen, dear." And she kissed me fondly.
"Good-night, darling," I said, returning her sweet caress; and then,
when she had passed from the room, I seized my hat and descended the
big flight of red-carpeted stairs, bent on obtaining some solution of
the mystery of that most exciting and curious episode.