"It's a matter for the police, now," remarked Barres gloomily.

"Oh, Garry!" she exclaimed. "What a very horrid ending to the moonlit way we took together so long ago!--the lovely silvery path of Pierrot!"

"The story of Pierrot is a tragedy, Thessa! We have been luckier on our moonlit way."

"Than Pierrot and Pierrette?"

"Yes. Death always saunters along the path of the moon, watching for those who take it.... You are very fortunate, Pierrette."

"Yes," she murmured, "I am fortunate.... Am I not, Jim?" she added, looking up wistfully into his shadowy face above her.

"I don't know about that," he said, "but there'll be no more moonlight business for you unless I'm with you. And under those circ.u.mstances,"

he added, "I'll knock the block off Old Man Death if he tries to flirt with you!"

"How brutal! Garry, do you hear his language to me?"

"I hear," said Barres, laughing. "Your young man is a very matter of fact young man, Thessa, and I fancy he means what he says."

She looked up at Westmore; her lips barely moved:

"Do you--dear?"

"You bet I do," he whispered. "I'll pull this planet to pieces looking for you if you ever again steal away to a rendezvous with Old Man Death."

When the car arrived at Foreland Farms, Thessalie felt able to proceed to her room upon her own legs, and with Dulcie's arm around her.

Westmore bade her good-night, kissing her hand--awkwardly--not being convincing in any role requiring att.i.tudes.

He wanted to take her into his arms, but seemed to know enough not to do it. Probably she divined his irresolute state of mind, for she extended her hand in a pretty manner quite unmistakable. And the romantic education of James H. Westmore began.

Barres lingered at the door after Westmore departed, obeying a whispered aside from Dulcie. She came out in a few moments, carefully closing the bedroom door, and stood so, one hand behind her still resting on the k.n.o.b.

"Thessa is crying. It's only the natural relaxation from that horrible tension. I shall sleep with her to-night."

"Is there anything----"

"Oh, no. She will be all right.... Garry, are they--are they--in _love_?"

"It rather looks that way, doesn't it?" he said, smiling.

She gazed at him questioningly, almost fearfully.

"Do _you_ believe that Thessa is in love with Mr. Westmore?" she whispered.

"Yes, I do. Don't you?"

"I didn't know.... I thought so. But----"

"But what?"

"I didn't--didn't know--what you would think of it.... I was afraid it might--might make you--unhappy."

"Why?"

"Don't you _care_ if Thessa loves somebody else?" she asked breathlessly.

"Did you think I did, Dulcie?"

"Yes."

"Well, I don't."

There was a strained silence; then the girl smiled at him in a confused manner, drew a swift, sudden breath, and, as he stepped forward to detain her, turned sharply away, pressing her forearm across her eyes.

"Dulcie! Did you understand me?" he said in a low, unsteady voice.

She was already trying to open the door, but he dropped his right hand over her fingers where they were fumbling with the k.n.o.b, and felt them trembling. At the same moment, the sound of Thessalie's smothered and convulsive sobbing came to him; and Dulcie's nervous hand slipped from his.

"Dulcie!" he pleaded. "Will you come back to me if I wait?"

She had stopped; her back was still toward him, but she nodded slightly, then moved on toward the bed, where Thessalie lay all huddled up, her face buried in the tumbled pillows.

Barres noiselessly closed the door.

He had already started along the corridor toward his own room, when the low sound of voices in the staircase hall just below arrested his attention--his sister's voice and Westmore's. And he retraced his steps and went down to where they stood together by the library door.

Lee wore a nurse's dress and ap.r.o.n, such as a kennel-mistress affects, and her strong, capable hands were full of bottles labelled "Grover's Specific"--the same being dog medicine of various sorts.

"Mother is over at the kennels, Garry," she said. "She and I are going to sit up with those desperately sick pups. If we can pull them through to-night they'll probably get well, eventually, unless paralysis sets in. I was just telling Jim that a very attractive young Frenchman was here only a few minutes before you arrived. His name is Renoux. And he left this letter for you--fish it out of my ap.r.o.n pocket, there's a dear----"

Her brother drew out the letter; his sister said:

"Mr. Renoux went away in a car with two other men. He asked me to say to you that there was no time to lose--whatever he meant by that! Now, I must hurry away!" She turned and sped through the hall and out through the swinging screen door on the north porch. Garry had already opened the note from Renoux, glanced over it; then he read it aloud to Westmore:

"MY DEAR COMRADE:

"The fat's in the fire! Your agents took Tauscher in charge to-day. Max Freund and Franz Lehr have just been arrested by your excellent Postal authorities. Warrants are out for Sendelbeck, Johann Klein, and Louis Hochstein. I think the latter are making for Mexico, but your Secret Service people are close on their heels.

"Recall for von Papen and Boy-ed is certain to be demanded by your Government. Mine will look after Bolo Effendi and d'Eblis and their international gang of spies and crooks. Ferez Bey, however, still eludes us. He is somewhere in this vicinity, but of course, even when we locate him again, we can't touch him. All we can do is to point him out to your Government agents, who will then keep him in sight.

"So far so good. But now I am forced to ask a very great favour of you, and, if I may, of your friend, Mr. Westmore. It is this: Skeel, contrary to what was expected of him, did not go to the place which is being watched. Nor have any of his men appeared at that rendezvous where there lies the very swift and well-armed launch, _Togue Rouge_, which we had every reason to suppose was to be their craft in this outrageous affair.

"As a matter of fact, this launch is Tauscher's. But it, and the pretended rendezvous, are what you call a plant. Skeel never intended to a.s.semble his men there; never intended to use that particular launch. Tauscher merely planted it. Your men and the Canadian agents, unfortunately, are covering that vicinity and are still watching for Skeel, who has a very different plan in his crazy head.

"Now, this is Skeel's plan, and this is the situation, learned by me from papers discovered on Tauscher: