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  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE MISSING SLIPPER

  There will always remain something to be said of woman as long as there is one on earth.--_Bauflers_.

  My new friend, I was glad to note, seemed not anxious to terminate ouracquaintance, although in his amiable and childlike fashion he babbledof matters which to me seemed unimportant. He was eager to propound hisviews on the connection of the American tribes with the peoples of theOrient, whereas I was all for talking of the connection of England andthe United States with Oregon. Thus we passed the luncheon hour at thehostelry of my friend Jacques Bertillon; after which I suggested astroll about the town for a time, there being that upon my mind whichleft me ill disposed to remain idle. He agreed to my suggestion, a factfor which I soon was to feel thankful for more reasons than one.

  Before we started upon our stroll, I asked him to step to my own room,where I had left my pipe. As we paused here for a moment, he noticed onthe little commode a pair of pistols of American make, and, with a wordof apology, took them up to examine them.

  "You also are acquainted with these?" he asked politely.

  "It is said that I am," I answered.

  "Sometimes you need to be?" he said, smiling. There smote upon me, evenas he spoke, the feeling that his remark was strangely true. My eye fellon the commode's top, casually. I saw that it now was bare. I recalledthe strange warning of the baroness the evening previous. I was watched!My apartment had been entered in my absence. Property of mine had beentaken.

  My perturbation must have been discoverable in my face. "What iss it?"asked the old man. "You forget someting?"

  "No," said I, stammering. "It is nothing."

  He looked at me dubiously. "Well, then," I admitted; "I miss somethingfrom my commode here. Some one has taken it."

  "It iss of value, perhaps?" he inquired politely.

  "Well, no; not of intrinsic value. 'Twas only a slipper--of white satin,made by Braun, of Paris."

  "_One_ slipper? Of what use?--"

  "It belonged to a lady--I was about to return it," I said; but I fear myface showed me none too calm. He broke out in a gentle laugh.

  "So, then, we had here the stage setting," said he; "the pistols, thecause for pistols, sometimes, eh?"

  "It is nothing--I could easily explain--"

  "There iss not need, my young friend. Wass I not also young once? Yess,once wass I young." He laid down the pistols, and I placed them with myalready considerable personal armament, which seemed to give him noconcern.

  "Each man studies for himself his own specialty," mused the old man."You haf perhaps studied the species of woman. Once, also I."

  I laughed, and shook my head.

  "Many species are there," he went on; "many with wings of gold and blueand green, of unknown colors; creatures of air and sky. Haf I not seenthem? But always that one species which we pursue, we do not find. Oncein my life, in Oregon, I follow through the forest a smell of sweetfields of flowers coming to me. At last I find it--a wide field offlowers. It wass in summer time. Over the flowers were many, manybutterflies. Some of them I knew; some of them I had. One great new one,such as I haf not seen, it wass there. It rested. 'I shall now make itmine,' I said. It iss fame to gif name first to this so noble a species.I would inclose it with mein little net. Like this, you see, I creep upto it. As I am about to put it gently in my net--not to harm it, orbreak it, or brush away the color of its wings--lo! like a puff ofdown, it rises and goes above my head. I reach for it; I miss. It risesstill more; it flies; it disappears! So! I see it no more. It iss gone._Stella Terrae_ I name it--my Star of the Earth, that which I crave butdo not always haf, eh? Believe me, my friend, yess, the study of thespecies hass interest. Once I wass young. Should I see that little shoeI think myself of the time when I wass young, and made studies--_Ach,Mein Gott!_--also of the species of woman! I, too, saw it fly from me,my _Stella Terrae!_"

  We walked, my friend still musing and babbling, myself still anxious anduneasy. We turned out of narrow Notre Dame Street, and into St. LawrenceMain Street. As we strolled I noted without much interest the motleylife about me, picturesque now with the activities of the advancingspring. Presently, however, my idle gaze was drawn to two youngEnglishmen whose bearing in some way gave me the impression that theybelonged in official or military life, although they were in civiliangarb.

  Presently the two halted, and separated. The taller kept on to the east,to the old French town. At length I saw him joined, as though byappointment, by another gentleman, one whose appearance at once gave mereason for a second look. The severe air of the Canadian spring seemednot pleasing to him, and he wore his coat hunched up about his neck, asthough he were better used to milder climes. He accosted my youngEnglishman, and without hesitation the two started off together. As theydid so I gave an involuntary exclamation. The taller man I had seen oncebefore, the shorter, very many times--in Washington!

  "Yess," commented my old scientist calmly; "so strange! They gotogether."

  "Ah, you know them!" I almost fell upon him.

  "Yess--last night. The tall one iss Mr. Peel, a young Englishman; theother is Mexican, they said--Senor Yturrio, of Mexico. He spoke much.Me, I wass sleepy then. But also that other tall one we saw goback--that wass Captain Parke, also of the British Navy. His ship issthe war boat _Modeste_--a fine one. I see her often when I walk on theriffer front, there."

  I turned to him and made some excuse, saying that presently I would joinhim again at the hotel. Dreamily as ever, he smiled and took his leave.For myself, I walked on rapidly after the two figures, then a block orso ahead of me.

  I saw them turn into a street which was familiar to myself. They passedon, turning from time to time among the old houses of the Frenchquarter. Presently they entered the short side street which I myself hadseen for the first time the previous night. I pretended to busy myselfwith my pipe, as they turned in at the very gate which I knew, andknocked at the door which I had entered with my mysterious companion!

  The door opened without delay; they both entered.

  So, then, Helena von Ritz had other visitors! England and Mexico wereindeed conferring here in Montreal. There were matters going forwardhere in which my government was concerned. That was evident. I wasalmost in touch with them. That also was evident. How, then, might Igain yet closer touch?

  At the moment nothing better occurred to me than to return to my roomand wait for a time. It would serve no purpose for me to disclosemyself, either in or out of the apartments of the baroness, and it wouldnot aid me to be seen idling about the neighborhood in a city wherethere was so much reason to suppose strangers were watched. I resolvedto wait until the next morning, and to take my friend Von Rittenhofenwith me. He need not know all that I knew, yet in case of any accidentto myself or any sudden contretemps, he would serve both as a witnessand as an excuse for disarming any suspicion which might be entertainedregarding myself.

  The next day he readily enough fell in with my suggestion of a morningstroll, and again we sallied forth, at about nine o'clock, having bythat time finished a _dejeuner a la fourchette_ with Jacques Bertillon,which to my mind compared unfavorably with one certain other I hadshared.

  A sense of uneasiness began to oppress me, I knew not why, before I hadgone half way down the little street from the corner where we turned. Itwas gloomy and dismal enough at the best, and on this morning an unusualapathy seemed to sit upon it, for few of the shutters were down,although the hour was now mid-morning. Here and there a homely habitantappeared, and bade us good morning; and once in a while we saw the faceof a good wife peering from the window. Thus we passed some dozen housesor so, in a row, and paused opposite the little gate. I saw that theshutters were closed, or at least all but one or two, which were partlyajar. Something said to me that it would be as well for me to turn back.

  I might as well have done so. We passed up the little walk, and I raisedthe knocker at the door; but even as it sounded I knew what wouldhappen. There came to me that c
urious feeling which one experiences whenone knocks at the door of a house which lacks human occupancy. Even morestrongly I had that strange feeling now, because this sound was notmerely that of unoccupied rooms--it came from rooms empty and echoing!

  I tried the door. It was not locked. I flung it wide, and steppedwithin. At first I could not adjust my eyes to the dimness. Absolutesilence reigned. I pushed open a shutter and looked about me. The roomswere not only unoccupied, but unfurnished! The walls and floors wereutterly bare! Not a sign of human occupancy existed. I hastened out tothe little walk, and looked up and down the street, to satisfy myselfthat I had made no mistake. No, this was the number--this was the place.Yesterday these rooms were fitted sumptuously as for a princess; nowthey were naked. Not a stick of the furniture existed, nor was there anytrace either of haste or deliberation in this removal. What had been,simply was not; that was all.

  Followed by my wondering companion, I made such inquiry as I could inthe little neighborhood. I could learn nothing. No one knew anything ofthe occupant of these rooms. No one had heard any carts approach, norhad distinguished any sounds during the night.

  "Sir," said I to my friend, at last; "I do not understand it. I havepursued, but it seems the butterfly has flown." So, both silent, myselfmorosely so, we turned and made our way back across the town.

  Half an hour later we were on the docks at the river front, where wecould look out over the varied shipping which lay there. My scientificfriend counted one vessel after another, and at last pointed to a gapin the line.

  "Yesterday I wass here," he said, "and I counted all the ships and theirnames. The steamer _Modeste_ she lay there. Now she iss gone."

  I pulled up suddenly. This was the ship which carried Captain Parke andhis friend Lieutenant Peel, of the British Navy. The secret council atMontreal was, therefore, apparently ended! There would be an Englishland expedition, across Canada to Oregon. Would there be also anexpedition by sea? At least my errand in Montreal, now finished, had notbeen in vain, even though it ended in a mystery and a query. But ah! hadI but been less clumsy in that war of wits with a woman, what might Ihave learned! Had she not been free to mock me, what might I not havelearned! She was free to mock me, why? Because of Elisabeth. Was it thentrue that faith and loyalty could purchase alike faithlessnessand--failure?