Duson, with a murmur of apology, broke in upon his meditations.

“You will pardon me, sir, but the second dinner is now being served.  The restaurant car will be detached at the next stop.”

“What of it?” Mr. Sabin asked calmly.

“I have taken the liberty of ordering dinner for you, sir.  It is thirty hours since you ate anything save biscuits.”

Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.

“You are quite right, Duson,” he said.  “I will dine.”

In half-an-hour he was back again.  Duson placed before him silently a box of cigarettes and matches.  Mr. Sabin smoked.

Soon the lights of the great city flared in the sky, the train stopped more frequently, the express men and newspaper boys came into evidence.  Mr. Sabin awoke from his long spell of thought.  He bought a newspaper, and glanced through the list of steamers which had sailed during the week.  When the train glided into the depot he was on his feet and ready to leave it.

“You will reserve our rooms, Duson, for one month,” he said on the way to the hotel.  “We shall probably leave for Europe a month to-morrow.”

“Very good, sir.”

“You were Mrs. Peterson’s servant, Duson, before you were mine!”

“Yes, sir.”

“You have been with her, I believe, for many years.  You are doubtless much attached to her!”

“Indeed I am, sir!”

“You may have surmised, Duson, that she has left me.  I desire to ensure your absolute fidelity, so I take you into my confidence to this extent.  Your mistress is in the hands of those who have some power over her.  Her absence is involuntary so far as she is concerned.  It has been a great blow to me.  I am prepared to run all risks to discover her whereabouts.  It is late in my life for adventures, but it is very certain that adventures and dangers are before us.  In accompanying me you will associate yourself with many risks.  Therefore—­”

Duson held up his hand.

“I beg, sir,” he exclaimed, “that you will not suggest for a moment my leaving your service on that account.  I beg most humbly, sir, that you will not do me that injustice.”

Mr. Sabin paused.  His eyes, like lightning, read the other’s face.

“It is settled then, Duson,” he said.  “Kindly pay this cabman, and follow me as quickly as possible.”

Mr. Sabin passed across the marble hall, leaning heavily upon his stick.  Yet for all his slow movements there was a new alertness in his eyes and bearing.  He was once more taking keen note of everybody and everything about him.  Only a few days ago she had been here.

He claimed his rooms at the office, and handed the keys to Duson, who by this time had rejoined him.  At the moment of turning away he addressed an inquiry to the clerk behind the counter.

“Can you tell me if the Duchess of Souspennier is staying here?” he inquired.