“So does the Captain,” announced the bride, who could not look at me without a smile, which I altogether declined to return.  But I need hardly confess that she was right.  It was from Mrs. Lascelles that I also had heard of the dismal spot to which we were come, as her own ultimate objective after Switzerland.  It was the only address with which she had provided the concierge at the Riffel Alp.  All day I had regretted the night wasted at Zuerich, on the chance of saving a day; but until this moment I had been sanguine of bringing my dubious quest to a successful issue here in Triberg.  Now I was no longer even anxious to do so.  I did not desire witnesses of a meeting which might well be of a character humiliating to myself.  Still less should I have chosen for such witnesses a couple who were plainly disposed to put the usual misconstruction upon the relations of any man with any woman.

My disappointment was consequently less than theirs when we drove up to as gloomy a hostelry as I have ever beheld, with the blue-black forest smoking wet behind it, to find that here also the foul weather had brought the season to a premature and sudden end, literally emptying this particular hotel.  Nor did the landlord give us the welcome we might have expected on a hasty consideration of the circumstances.  He said that he had been on the point of shutting up that house until next season and hinted at less profit than loss upon three persons only.

“But there’s a fourth person coming,” declared the disconsolate bride.  “We figured on finding her right here!”

“A Mrs. Lascelles,” her husband explained.

“Been and gone,” said the landlord, grinning sardonically.  “Too lonely for the lady.  She has arrived last night, and gone away again this morning.  You will find her at the Darmstaedterhof, in Baden-Baden, unless she changes her mind on the way.”

I caught his grin.  It had been the same story, at every stage of my journey; the chances were that it would be the same thing again at Baden-Baden.  There may have been something, however, of which I was unaware in my smile; for I found myself under close observation by the bride; and as our eyes met her hand slipped within her husband’s arm.

“I guess we won’t find her there,” she said.  “I guess we’ll just light out for ourselves, and wish the captain luck.”

A stern chase is proverbially protracted, but on dry land it has usually one end.  Mine ended in Baden on the fifth (and first fine) day, rather early in the afternoon.  On arrival I drove straight to the Darmstaedterhof, and asked to see no visitors’ books, for the five days had taken the edge off my finesse, but inquired at once whether a Mrs. Lascelles was staying there or not.  She was.  It seemed incredible.  Were they sure she had not just left?  They were sure.  But she was not in; at my request they made equally sure of that.  She had probably gone to the Conversationshaus, to listen to the band.