The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1908-06-07
! LAX Err


last then he was to know something
He was very English. a bad amateur
detective, and very weary of his task
Nothing but his intense interest in the-
girl herself-an interest which seemed
to have upset the whole tenor of his
life-would have kept him here plod-
ding so relentlessly away at a task
which seemed daily to present more
difficulties and complications. Yet so
absorbed had he become that the or
Cinary duties and pleasures which
made up the routine of his life scarce
ly ever entered into his mind. There
had been men coming down to shoot,
whom in an ordinary way he would
rot have dreamed of putting off-a
cricket match which had been post
pOned until his return. and which he
had completely forgotten. Paris had
nothing in the shape of amusement TO
offer him in place of these things, yet
in his own mind these things were as
if they had not been. Every interest
and energy of his life was concentrat-
ed upon the one simple object of his
search.
He gave the man half a crown and
walked to the lift whistling. The por-
ter shook his head, and Duncomhe re-
coded considerably in his estimation,
Notwithstanding the tip. He cOnsid-
cred Mademoiselle Flossie a little OBJ
ViOus for a gentleman of Duncombe's
class. DuncOmbe treated himself To a
cocktail and a cigarette as he changed
his clothes. 1t was positively the first
CLEAN of hope he had had. And then
suddenly he remembered SDencer's
warning, and he became grave.
He was at the Cafe Sylvan early.
He ordered dinner gave elaborate in
structions about young lady when
she arrived. and with a glass of q b.
sinthe and another cigarette sat down
to wait. At quarter to he began to
get restless. He summoned the waiteZ
again, and gave a more detailed de-
scriptiOn Of Mademoiselle FlOssie. The
waiter was regretful but positive. No
young lady of any description had ar
rived expecting 10 meet a gentleman
in a private room. Duncombe tried
him with her name. But yes, Madem-
oiselle Mermillon was exceedingly well
known there. He would give orders
that she should be shown up imme-
diately she arrival. 1t would be soon,
without doubt.
At a quarter past s DuncOmbe dined
alone, too disappointed to resent the
walters sympathetic attitude. At 8
O'Clock he returned to the hotel on the
chance that message might have
been sent there. He read the English
newspapers, and wrote letters until
midnight. Then he ordered a carriage
and drove to the Cafe Montmartre.
He mounted the stairs and passed
through the little bar which led into
| the supper room. Monsieur Albert
came forward with a low bow.
You can find me a table, l sup
poser Duncombe remarked. looking
around. Where shall I sit2"
Monsieur Albert shook his head
slowly. His hands were Outstreched,
his manner sad, but resigned.
Il am very sorry. monsieur. but to-
night every place is taken. l have had
To turn others away already" he de-
/ claTed. A thousand regrets"
DuncOmbe looked at him astonished
The place was more than half empty
Surely you can find me a small Ia
bic somewhere" he said. 4 was here
last evening, you know. If it is be-
cause l am alone l will order supper
for two and a magnum of wine"
Monsieur Albert was immovable. He
remembered DuncOmbe We'll and he
was proud of his patronage, but to-
night it was impossible to offer him a
table. DuncOmbe began to be an
noyed.
Very we'll" he said. Il will stay in
the bar. You can't turn me out of
there, can your"
Monsieur Albert was evasive. He de-
sired Monsieur Duncombe to be
amused. and the people who remained
in the bar-well, it was not possible to
get rid of them, but they were not fit
| ting company for him.
There is the Cafe Mazarin," he
added confidentially, "a few steps only
from here-a must amusing place. The
most wonderful ladies there, too, very
chic, and crowded every night. Mon
sieuI should really try it, The COM
missionaire would direct him-a few
yards only"
Much obliged to you" Duncombe
answered, turning on his heel. Il may
look in there presently"
He seated himself at a small round
table and ordered a drink. The people
here were of a slightly different class
from those who had the entree to the
supper room and were mostly crowded
round the bar itself. At a small desk
within a few feet of him a middle-aged
woman with a cold. hard face sat with
| a book of accounts before her and a
/ pile of bills. There was something al
most Sphynx-like about her appear
ance. She never spoke. Her express
/ sion never changed. Once their eyes
/ met. She looked at him steadfastly,
| but said nothing. The girl behind the
| bar also took note of him. She was
very tail and slim. absolutely cOIorless,
| ana with coils of fair hair drawn
/ tightly back from her forehead. She
was never without a cigarette, light
| ing a fresh one always from its pre-
| decessOT talking all the while unceas-
! ingly, but without the slightest change
of expression. Once she waved the
men and girls who stood talking to
her on one side, and Duncombe fancied
that it was because she desired a bet
| ter view of him.
/ Suddenly he was startled by a voice
close at hand. He looked up. The wo-
man at the desk was speaking to him.
| Monsieur would be we'll advised, -
she said ''if he departed"
| DuncOmbe looked at her in amaze
ment. She was writing rapidly in her
\ book and her eyes were fixed upon her
work. If he had not actually heard
/ her. it would have been hard to be-
/ lieve that she had spoken.
! But why, madame?" he asked
| why should l go? l am in no ones
way. l can pay for what l have"
She dipped her pen in the ink
II know nothing of monsieur or his