1.  That the landlady was right when she told me the girl was never left alone, one of the men, if not the father then the son, always remaining with her.

2.  That while thus guarded, she was not so restricted but that she had the liberty of walking in the hall, though never for any length of time.

3.  That the cross on the door seemed to possess some secret meaning connected with their presence in the house, it having been erased one evening when the whole three went out on some matter or other, only to be chalked on again when in an hour or so later, father and daughter returned alone.

4.  That it was the father and not the son who made such purchases as were needed, while it was the son and not the father who carried on whatever operations they had on hand; nightfall being the favorite hour for the one and midnight for the other; though it not infrequently happened that the latter sauntered out for a short time also in the afternoon, probably for the drink he could not go long without.

5.  That they were men of great strength but little alertness; the stray glimpses I had had of them, revealing a breadth of back that was truly formidable, if it had not been joined to a heaviness of motion that proclaimed a certain stolidity of mind that was eminently in our favor.

How best to use these facts in the building up of a matured plan of action, was, then, the problem.  By noon of a certain day I believed it to have been solved, and reluctant as I was to leave the spot of my espionage even for the hour or two necessary to a visit to headquarters, I found myself compelled to do so.  Packing up in a small basket I had for the purpose, the little articles I had been engaged during the last few days in making, I gave way to a final fit of coughing so hollow and sepulchral in its tone, that it awoke a curse from the next room deep as the growl of a wild beast, and still continuing, finally brought Luttra to the door with that look of compassion on her face that always called up a flush to my cheek whether I wished it or no.

“Ah, Monsieur, I am afraid your cough is very bad to-day.  O I see; you have been getting ready to go out—­”

“Come back here,” broke in a heavy voice from the room she had left.  “What do you mean by running off to palaver with that old rascal every time he opens his ----- battery of a cough?”

A smile that went through me like the cut of a knife, flashed for a moment on her face.

“My father is in one of his impatient moods,” said she, “you had better go.  I hope you will be successful,” she murmured, glancing wistfully at my basket.

“What is that?” again came thundering on our ears.  “Successful?  What are you two up to?” And we heard the rough clatter of advancing steps.

“Go,” said she; “you are weak and old; and when you come back, try and not cough.”  And she gave me a gentle push towards the door.