bered, in justice to her, that she had loved this man with all the ardor of a passionate, undisciplined nature, she had lost him, had been on the verge of recapturing him, and now he had escaped her once more, and something told her that this time it was forever!
"Very pretty, my faith!" she said, with a. bitter laugh of mingled rage and despair. "Quelle innocence, mon Dieu! You have defenders—is it not?—who combine military duties with a naval footing? How do you call them, hein? I forget."
"Possibly, madame," suggested Jacynth gravely, "you refer to the Marines?"
"The Marines—it is that, yes. Well, tell this fine story to them—to your Marines. Or, better still, for I hear them, they are here at last, to your detectives, and see what they will say to you!" Her fine instinct had not deceived her this time; almost before she had finished speaking a couple of men in plain clothes came into the room. They had the sharp, roving eye of the trained sleuthhound, and one of them carried a pair of steel handcuffs.
"There is the man you seek," cried Lucille, pointing to Frank, who stood quietly awaiting his captors in the center of the room. "Ah, my poor Doggie, you have had your day!"
"Begging your pardon, madame," said one of the men, not uncivilly, slipping the handcuffs over
