"My friend," she said, turning to Von Behrling, "if your friends can
spare you so long, will you fetch one of my maids? You will find
them both in my cabin, number three. I wish to walk for a few
moments before we arrive."

Von Behrling turned away like a man in a dream. Mademoiselle Idiale
followed him slowly, and behind her came Von Behrling's companions.


The details of the great singer's journey had been most carefully
planned by an excited manager who had received the telegram
announcing her journey to London. There was an engaged carriage at
Dover, into which she was duly escorted by a representative of the
Opera Syndicate, who had been sent down from London to receive her.
Von Behrling seemed to be missing. She had seen nothing of him
since he had descended to summon her maids. But just as the train
was starting, she heard the sound of angry voices, and a moment
later his white face was pressed through the open window of the
carriage.

"Louise," he muttered, "I am on fire! I cannot talk to you! I fear
that they suspect something. They have told me that if I travel
with you they will force their way in. Even now, Streuss comes.
Listen for your telephone to-night or whenever I can. I must think
- I must think!"

He passed on, and Louise, leaning back in her seat, closed her eyes.