The Montgomery advertiser., 1907-09-11

Aiih ih' put ne may not come, now 1t Is so late" <.
 When Henri has gone. told Mari anne that she might go, too. I did not want her to walt. If the person I had expected should~call. 1t was a very old friend; In fact Mir. Ivor Dundas, whom Marianne must remember in London He was to call--if he did call--only on a matter of business. which would take but few minutes to get through. and possibly he would not even come into the house. If the gate-bell rang. would answer 1t myself, and speak with MT Dundas, perhaps In the garden Then I would let him out and come straight upstairs Marianne might 20 to bed if she liked
 do not like, unles Mademoiselle particularly desires me to do so" she said. T do not rest well when I have not been allowed to undress Madem- oiselle."
 "Sit up then. in your own room. and wait there for me till I ring for you" l replied T sban't be late, whether MT. Dundas comes or doesn't come"
 supposing the gate-bell should ring, and Mademoiselle should go, yet it might not be the Monsieur she expects, but another person whom she would not wish to admit?"
 There's no fear of that No fear of l any kind" I answered.
 She took off my cloak and went up- stairs Eeluctantly, carrying my jewel box.
 walked into the drawing room, which was l1ghted. and looked very bright and charming. with it's many flowers and framed photographs. and the delightful Louis Quinze furniture, which I had so enjoyed picking up here and there at antique shops or at private sales.
 flung myself on the sofa, but | could not rest In a moment I was up again, neving about, looking at the clock, comparing 1t with my watch. wondering what could have happened 10 make Ivor fail in keeping his prom Ise to be prompt on the hour of twelve. Of course, a hundred harmless things might have kept him, but I thought ! only of the worst, and was working myselft up to frenzy when at last I heard the gate-bell. I had been in the house no more than twelve or fourteen minutes. but it seemed an hour, and I gay sob of relief as I rushed out, down the garden path. to let my visitor in
 Fumbling a little at the lock. always little difficult If one were in a hurry, I asked myself what if, as Marianne had suggested, 1t were ont Ivor Dun das. but someone else-Raoul, perhaps --or the man who had been in her mind; Godensky.
 But 1t was Ivor
 What news?" questioned him, my voice sounding queer and far away in my own ears.
 T don't know whether you'll call 1t news or not, though plenty of things have happened. I'm awfully sorry to be late---"
 wouldn't let him finish, standing there, but tok him by the arm and drew irfn he zrHA I,tr kIa fn shut behind him as did so. Yet for- got to lock 1t. and naturally it did not occur to Ivor that 1t ought to be fastened.
 Once inside. in the garden. was go- ing to make him begin again. as had told Marianne would do But suddenly bethought myself that he might have been followed; that there might be watchers behind that high wall, watch CTS who would try to be listeners too, and whose ears would be very different from old Henrfs.
 Come into the house." I said. in low voice. before you begin to tell anything" Then, when we were in side, could not even wait for him to go on of his own accord and in his own way.
 "The treaty." I asked. Have you got hold of it?"
 Unfortunately, mo-"
 But you've heard of it? Oh, say you've heard something!"
 If haven't, 1t isn't because I've sat down and waited for news to come. I went back to the Care du Nord after you left me, to try and get on the track of the men who travelled with me in the train to Dover. But l was sent off on the wrong scent. and vast ed lot of time, worse luck-Ill tell you about it later, if you care to hear details. Then when that game was up. did what I wish I'd done at first, found out and consulted a private de- tective said to be one of the best in Paris"
 You told your story-my story-to detective?" I gasped
 No. Certainly not. said I'd lost something of value. given me by a lady whose name I could not bring into the affair. I vase George Sand ford. too, not MT. Dundas I describ- ed my travelling companions. telling all that happened on the way. and of- fered big pay if he could find them quickly-especially the little fellow. He held out hopes of spotting them tonight, so don't be desperate my poor girl. The detective chap seemed re- ally to think he'd not have much diff ficulty In tracking down our man; and even if he's parted with the treaty, we can ma out what ne'S done with 1t, no l doubt Girard says"
 "Girard!" I caught Ivor up 'Is your detectives name Antaole Girard and l does he live in rue ou Capucin Blanc?"
 Yes. Do you know him?"
 q know too much of him." I an- swered bitterly.
 Isn't he clever, after alI""
 Far too clever. I'd rather you had gone to any other detective in Paris | or to none"
 Why. what's wrong with him?" | Ivor began to be distressed.
 "Only that he's a personal friend of my worst enemy-the man I spoke of to you this evening-Count Godensky. | I've heard so from Godensky himself, | who mentioned the acquaintance once when Girard had just succeeded in a | case everybody was talking about"
 By love, what a beastly coinci- l dencew exclaimed Ivor horribly dis appointed al having done exactly the | wrong thing. when he had tried so hard to do the right one. Yet how could I have dreamed Of it?"
 You cOuldn't' l admitted, hope [ lessly, Nothing is your fault All | that's happened would have happened | just the same no matter what mes | senger the Foreign Secretary had sent | to me. It's fate. And it's my punish | ment ."
 still, even If Godensky and Girard | are friends" Tvor tried to console me. | "it isn't likely that the Count has talk | ed 10 the detective about you, and the ! affair of the treaty."
 He may have gone to him for help | in finding out things he couldn't find .