“So I packed what few belongings I had and took the money which I had managed to save from my father’s so meager allowance,” the low voice continued; “and when night came and all was still in the house, I stole quietly away and turned my back upon what was the only refuge I have ever known.

“I will not dwell upon the days and weeks that followed. Suffice it to say that they were very, very hard, and I was dangerously near giving up all hope, when, one day, I chanced to come across an old, old man, full three score ten he must have been, perhaps more, who seemed to know something of the people I sought. When I had described them to the best of my ability, he nodded sagely and directed me up a side road near by. Three miles of steady travel would bring Monsieur to the chateau where lived the old caretaker and his wife. Aye, he remembered the old gentleman, who was now dead, and the little, fairy-like creature, his ward, whom all had loved.

“I thanked him with great warmth, for he had brought a little spark of hope to a heart that before had lain heavy as lead.

“Wearily I trudged along till I was rewarded by the vision of a small chateau, almost surrounded by dense woodland. My unruly heart throbbed violently at the thought that in these very woods my sweet Jeanette had played when a child and earned the name throughout the countryside of the fairy child, whom every one loved. My heart yearned toward the little home which I was convinced must shelter my love, and, weary as I was, in my 94 impatience I began to run, covering the remaining distance with feet as light as air and a heart that sang with dawning hope and joy.

“As I neared the door of my heart’s desire, it opened and out stepped a plump, middle-aged little person, looking very trim and neat in her spotless white attire.

“To her I appealed. ‘Madame,’ said I, ‘will you be so kind as to allow me the privilege of a few words of conversation? You have it in your power either to raise me to the heights of joy or to sink me in the very depths of despair.’

“She gazed upon me as she would upon a madman, and perhaps, after all, it was not so strange that she should do so, I being footsore and weary and all covered with the stains and dust of travel—or perhaps it was merely my so strange form of address which startled her. However, she retreated several steps toward the house and stood with her hand clasping the latch, as though making ready to fly should I attempt any violence.

“‘May I ask sir,’ she said, with great primness, not unmixed with fear, ‘who comes so early in the morning with so strange, so unusual, requests?’

“‘Aye, Madame,’ said I, with most reassuring manner, ‘if you will but allow me, I will soon make all clear. Give me but a hearing,’ I cried, frantically, as I saw she was about to retire.

“To my great surprise, when she spoke it was in so much different and more gentle a tone that I could have gone on my knees to her, so great was my gratitude for a little kindness!

“‘Oh, Monsieur, I believe you are honest,’ she said, gently. ‘I will listen to what you have to say.’

“‘Ah, Madame, you are good!’ I cried from my heart. ‘I am sure your good opinion will be strengthened when you hear all.’ 95

“Then did I pour out my story, while the good soul listened attentively, nodding now and then or uttering little exclamations of surprise or sympathy. ‘And, oh, Madame,’ I finished, ‘if you have seen her; if, as I believe, she is here, I beg you, take me to her. Let me but see her, and all, I am convinced, will be well.’

“Then, what was my great horror, my boundless despair, when the good woman slowly and sadly shook her head, saying, in a voice full of sympathy and commiseration, ‘How loath I am to shatter your hopes and add more trouble to your already much overheavy sorrows, you cannot know, Monsieur, but I fear I can give you little encouragement.’

“‘Ah, Madame,’ I cried, wildly, beseechingly, ‘surely, you cannot be so cruel; surely, you must give me some hope! If Jeanette is not here now, surely, you have heard from her, seen her, can give me some clue to her present whereabouts!’

“It seemed to me as though she hesitated for the fraction of a second, but when her answer came, though gentle and sympathetic as before, it contained decision and finality which I could not but respect.

“‘Monsieur, she is not here, and neither have I seen her.’

“‘Merci, Madame,’ I murmured, wearily, and was turning away with sinking heart and feet that seemed weighted with lead, when she called to me softly:

“‘Monsieur is weary. Will he not rest and partake of some refreshment before continuing his journey?’

“Apathetically, scarce knowing where I went, nor caring, I followed her into a great, homelike, airy room, with flowers all about, even in the broad-silled, open windows. In the fragrance of the flowers it seemed that I could see Jeanette, and I had a strange impression she was near me. But I pushed it aside, thinking it but one of the many fancies that had beset me unceasingly of late. 96

“It was not long before the good dame set before me a steaming dish, and I, who, a few minutes before, had thought I could never eat again, fell upon it ravenously and never stopped until the last delicious morsel had disappeared. Thus refreshed and strengthened, my courage returned as by magic and I began again to make my plans for the future.

“An hour later, leaving the house upon which I had based such high hopes, I again turned my steps toward the city. Of course, I was now—what you call it?—more in the dark than ever about Jeanette, but in my heart was a great and dogged determination to find her somehow, somewhere, if I had to search the city through.

“Five days later I found myself again before the city, infinitely more dusty, infinitely more hungry, infinitely more footsore and more weary than when I had encountered Madame Vidaud at the chateau.

“As I turned a corner, a great, whirling streak rushed by me, so close as to make me jump quickly to the side of the road. To my great surprise, the automobile stopped a few yards from where I was standing and two men, one tall, one short, jumped out and hurried toward me.

“‘Hello!’ cried the tall one, in a big, rumbling voice. ‘Aren’t you the son of Charloix?’ he said. ‘I thought I recognized you, even through the dust. Just the man I’m looking for!’

“‘I would be pleased, sir, if you would name your business with me,’ I replied, not being in the best of humors to bandy words with this stranger who seemed so familiar with my name and ancestry.

“‘Certainly, certainly,’ said the big man, with a heartiness that made me ashamed of my bad humor. ‘That’s exactly what I stopped for. I am your father’s solicitor.’

“I started and drew back. ‘You come from my father?’ 97

“‘Yes; and you must prepare yourself for a great shock, my son,’ said he, laying a great hand upon my shoulder. ‘Your father is very ill.’

“‘Dead!’ I gasped, feeling myself turn white. ‘When?’

“‘Four days ago,’ said the little man, who had not yet spoken. ‘Apoplexy.’

“‘Ah, I had forgotten! My friend M. Abbott, M. Charloix.’

“I bowed, scarcely acknowledging the introduction, for my mind was a whirling turmoil of hopes and fears. ‘You say,’ I began, still much dazed, ‘that my father died four days ago. And have you been looking for me since then, Monsieur?’

“‘Yes, Monsieur, we have scoured the country and, before this fortunate meeting to-day, had almost given up hope of finding you.’

“‘But why did you take this so much trouble to find me Monsieur?’ I had asked. ‘I had not thought myself of such importance.’

“‘There were many good reasons for our search, Monsieur,’ said my big friend, a trifle stiffly, for I doubt not he was amazed at my lack of emotion, not knowing my father as I had known him. ‘In the first place, we thought you might possibly wish to know of your father’s death. Also, there are several important matters relative to his decease that we thought might interest you.’

“‘Pardon, Monsieur,’ said I. ‘I had not meant to be abrupt. As you may see, I have had a long and wearisome journey and am—what you call—fagged. I must rest, Monsieur; then I can talk.’

“‘Quite right, quite right!’ he agreed, in his hearty manner. ‘If I had had any brains instead of being a great empty-headed fool of an attorney, I should have seen to that before,’ and, linking his arm in mine, he led me in 98 spite of all protests on my part, to his great touring car and bade me enter.

“‘But, Monsieur,’ I protested, gazing despairingly down upon my torn and dusty clothing, ‘I am not fit——’

“‘But me no buts, young man. As your attorney and rightful executor of your estate, I have the right to demand an interview, and I am going to take advantage of that right.’

“There being nothing more to say, and it seeming only natural and right to obey the commands of this great, blustering attorney, I submitted, and lounged back against the soft, upholstered seat with a great sigh of relaxation.

“My father’s attorney talked incessantly until we reached our destination, giving me no time to think. At his home he directed me to a large room, saying that in an hour’s time he would meet me in his study, where, over a good dinner and a bottle or two of choice Madeira, we could talk in comfort.

“Ah, the luxury of that bath and the subsequent putting on of a clean, whole suit of clothes placed upon the bed by the so obsequious man servant, who said his master had sent these clothes with his compliments and the hope that they would fit. The clothes I accepted thankfully enough, for I had decided to ask M. Cartier the address of a shop in the city in which I might purchase myself a cheap but respectable suit, for I had still a little money left.

“In Monsieur Cartier’s study again that night I learned many things. I learned, among other things, that my father had long been suspected of being somewhat of a miser—that he was thought to possess a great deal more money than he cared to let people know about. Also, I learned that, several days before his death, he had made a flying visit to a little chateau which had been owned by a friend of his—I must have started, for the lawyer asked if I had heard of the place. ‘Yes, I had heard of it—but please go on.’ 99

“‘Well, he stayed over night that night,’ the lawyer continued, ‘saying that he had come in search of his ward, who had run away from home.’

“‘Yes, yes,’ I cried; ‘go on! What then?’

“‘Well it seems that in the night the good dame heard a noise, and, rising to investigate, came upon your father in the attic, bending over something, the nature of which she could not make out.’

“‘But, Monsieur, you mean to say my father——’ I began, but he interrupted me with an admonitory wave of the hand.

“‘If you will but wait till I have finished, Monsieur Charloix,’ he said, ‘I will be glad to answer any and all of your questions. As I have said, your father was bending over some object and was so absorbed that he did not hear our good friend till she ventured a gentle cough by way of introduction. At the slight sound, your father sprang forward with an oath, leveling the pistol at the good dame’s head——’”

“Oh!” breathed Jessie, and Lucile’s hand went out instinctively to silence the interruption. “Sh-h!” she warned, but the Frenchman seemed not to have heard and continued his narrative, while his hand beat a nervous tattoo on the arm of the chair.

“I sat fascinated, my eyes fixed strainingly on the face of the lawyer, while he continued to speak, calmly, nonchalantly, as though that of which he spoke were of every-day occurrence. ‘Of course, the good dame screamed, but the next instant her fear turned to terror when the weapon fell from your father’s hand and he reeled, falling upon the ground with a strangling, choking cry, and lay motionless. She thought him dead, but ran for assistance nevertheless. It was some hours before the doctor arrived, and not long afterward your father passed away, quietly and painlessly, for he had lain in a coma since the stroke.’ 100

“‘But, Monsieur,’ I cried, forgetful of his admonition, ‘you say this was a week ago?’ He nodded consent. ‘But I myself but left the chateau three days ago, and Madame Vidaud made no mention of the tragedy to me, who am most concerned.’

“Then it was Cartier’s turn to have surprise. ‘You mean,’ said he, leaning his arm on the table and eyeing me steadily. ‘You mean that you were actually at the chateau three days ago and that the Vidaud woman said nothing to you of your father’s death? Are you sure that it was the right chateau?’

“‘Oui, Monsieur, I am sure,’ said I.

“Then ensued a silence, during which the lawyer seemed to ponder, and I, impatient though I was, must needs respect his silence and await his pleasure.

“‘Aye, it is strange—very strange,’ said he at last, with a thoughtful frown. ‘However, it is only one more snarl in the tangled thread of circumstances, and, with good luck, we ought to be able to get at the root of all this mystery soon. But, my young friend,’ said he, bringing his gaze back from the wall and long line of books and centering it once more upon me, ‘there is one more very important matter which requires our careful consideration.’

“‘And that?’ I cried.

“‘That,’ he continued, ‘is the matter of the will,’ and then, seeing that I was about to interrupt, he continued, quickly, ‘Just a moment, if you please, and you will know everything; then I will be in a position to discuss whys and wherefores. Your father’s last will, the will which I myself drew up about a year ago, is strangely missing. One has been found, however, dating back two years, and in the event of the first will not being found, will, of course, become valid.’

“‘Well?’ said I.

“‘Well,’ he continued, calmly launching his thunderbolt, ‘in that case, you, Monsieur, will be left penniless.’ 101

“‘Ah!’ I cried, aghast, and the lawyer nodded, ‘I trust that you now see the seriousness of the situation, Monsieur.’

“‘Ah, but there is one point of far greater importance than you have mentioned,’ I cried, with such earnestness that he leaned back in his chair with a sigh of resignation, saying, ‘Great heavens! What could be more important than that?’

“‘Many things, Monsieur, which, when you have heard of them, will cause you to agree with me.’

“My manner may have impressed him, perhaps my earnestness; for he bade me speak out freely, leaving nothing untold. This I did, to the most minute details, save, of course, those things sacred only to Jeanne and me. When I had finished, we had a long talk, during which I came to know the value of this new ally of mine.

“So it was finally decided that I was to travel to America for the purpose of hunting up one of the chief witnesses of my father’s will and beg him to return to France with me. Meanwhile, my father’s attorney assured me he would not be idle.”

“And did you find him—the witness, I mean?” said Mr. Payton.

“No, Monsieur, I did not; but, after a long and exhaustive search, I learned that the one I sought had sailed a week ago on the steamer ‘Baltic,’ so all my journey has been for nothing.”

“What difference does it make? At least, you accomplished your purpose.”

“That is true, Madame, but he would have sailed without aid of mine, and it maddens me to think that all this time I have been wasting in a fruitless search, my Jeanette is still unfound. Where may she not be? Dead—perhaps——” His voice trailed off into silence and they sat motionless, fascinated by the spell of romance, tragedy and mystery he had woven.