"Good-bye and good luck, Monsieur," she whispered. He held her hand
for an instant as she passed him, then she was gone.

Mile after mile from Le Cateau to Quevy found him puzzling over the
odd experience of the night. Suddenly he started and muttered, half
aloud:

"By thunder, I remember now! It was she who sat beside him in the
carriage this morning!"






VIII

THE FATE OF A LETTER





At Quevy the customs officers went through the train, and Quentin
knew that he was in Belgium. For some time he had been weighing in
his mind the advisability of searching the train for a glimpse of
the duke and his companion, doubtful as to the sincerity of the
beautiful and mysterious stranger. It was not until the train
reached Mons that he caught sight of the duke. He had started out