I sighed.

“I fear that I am in the same position as Monsieur Bartot,” I said.  “I do not understand!”

There was a warning cry.  I had only just time to swing myself on to the slowly moving train.  Louis ran for a moment by the side.

“Those people are harmless,” he said.  “They merely wished, if they could, to make use of you.  Mademoiselle has tied other fools to her chariot wheels before now, that Bartot may grow fat.  But, monsieur!”

I leaned over to catch his words.

“If Monsieur or Mademoiselle Delora should address you,” he said, “you need have no fear.  They are not of the same order as Bartot and Susette.”

“I will remember,” I answered, waving my farewells.

I regained my compartment, which I was annoyed to find had filled up till mine was the only vacant seat.  I had not had time to buy any papers or magazines, but, after all, I had enough to interest me in my thoughts.  Of Tapilow I scarcely thought at all.  He and I had met, and I had kept my oath.  So far as I was concerned, that was the end.  I had not even any fears for my own safety as regards this matter.  My interview with Decresson and his friend had had a curiously convincing effect upon me.  I felt that I had been tried for my crime, and acquitted, in the most orthodox fashion.  For me the curtain had fallen upon that tragedy.  It was the other things which occupied my mind.  I seemed to have found my way into a maze, to have become mixed up in certain affairs in a most mysterious and inexplicable way.  What was the meaning of that place to which Louis had introduced me?  Was it some sort of secret organization,—­an organization which assumed to itself, at any rate, the power to circumvent the police?  And Bartot, too!  Had he really the power which Louis had declared him to possess?  If so, why had he baited a clumsy trap for me and permitted me to walk out of it untouched?  What did they want from me, these people?  The thought was utterly confusing.  I could find absolutely no explanation.  Then, again, another puzzle remained.  I remembered Louis’ desire, almost command, that I should return to London by this particular train.  Had he any reason for it?  Was it connected in any way, I wondered, with the presence of this man and girl in the next compartment?  It seemed feasible, even if inexplicable.

I rose and strolled down the corridor, looking in at the coupe where these two people sat, with all the banal impertinence of the curious traveller.  The girl met my eyes once and afterwards simply ignored me.  The man never looked up from his magazine.  I passed and repassed three or four times.  The effect was always the same.  At last I resumed my seat.  At any rate, they showed no pressing desire to make my acquaintance!

At Boulogne I descended at once into the saloon and made a hasty meal.  When I came up on deck in the harbor I found that the chair which I had engaged was lashed close to the open door of a private cabin, and in the door of that cabin, standing within a few feet of me, was the niece of Monsieur Delora.  I racked my brains for something to say.  She gave me no encouragement whatever.  At last I descended to a banality.