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WILD MARGARET, — | 037
found out that she was alive. I could have traced her
from Brest easily enough——” |
~ “JT know!: I know!’ interrupted Austin Ambrose.
““'You have carried out my instructions! A French mou- ~
chard will do the rest. She landed there—she did not go
aboard again, you say?”
The detective hesitated for a second. As a matter of
fact, he was not certain on the point; but your detective
never likes to admit that he does not know everything, so,
after the imperceptible hesitation, he said, glibly enough:
‘*No, Mr. Ambrose, she went straight on by land. She’s
in France, most likely Paris—for certain. Large cities are |
generally chosen by people who want to hide securely;
every child knows that.”
“Yes, yes,’? muttered Austin Ambrose, “‘she is in
Paris.””:
He rose and took out his pocketbook.
‘*T am much obliged to you, Snowdon. The matter can
rest here now. I wanted to be certain of the young lady’s
existence, and for the rest, well, I dare say I can find her
if I should require her, which at present I do not. There
is the sum I promised you, and there is a bonus. You will
find it to your interest to deserve my confidence; and now
make yourself scarce as quickly and quietly as possible.”
_ “If you will kindly open that window, sir,’’ said the
detective, quietly, ‘‘I need not disturb any of the serv-
ants. I can find my way across the park,” and with a
respectful farewell he passed out. ; .
~ Austin Ambrose stood: and mused, his sharp brain turn-
ing the situation this way and that. Then he looked up
and smiled at his own face reflected in the mirror over the
mantel.. © LC . .
An hour afterward he re-entered the drawing-room,
with his usual placid smile, and all his plans made.
Lying on the couch was the countess. Her fingers were
picking restlessly at the edge of the Indian shawl, a habit
she had, and as she looked up, he saw her face was pale |
and troubled. .
He bent over the head of the couch, murmuring softly:
‘Not in bed yet? You ladies areas dissipated as we
men.”’
‘Yes, this is dreadful dissipation, is it not?” she retorted,
ironically. : .
“You look tired,”’ he said. ‘‘ Violet, Idon’t think this
air suits you——”
She laughed sarcastically. . oO -
‘Really you are too transparent. Blair has been telling
you I want a change and you can’t summon up courage to
tell me so openly! What cowards men are!