"It will be easier in France than in New
York--they perhaps have the necessary preparations already made--they
may be only hesitating--a warning from Martigny may turn the scale."
My hands were trembling at the thought of it. If we should really be
too late!
"But I don't believe they'll go to such extremes, Mr. Lester,"
continued my companion. "I believe you're going to find her and solve
the mystery. My theory doesn't solve it, you know; it only makes it
deeper. The mystery, after all, is--who are these people?--why did
they kill Mr. Holladay?--why have they abducted his daughter?--what is
their plot?"
"Yes," I assented; and again I had a moment of confused perplexity, as
of a man staring down into a black abyss.
"But after you find her," she asked, "what will you do with her?"
"Do with her? Why, take her home, of course."
"But she'll very probably be broken down, perhaps even on the verge of
hysteria. Such an experience would upset any woman, I don't care how
robust she may have been. She'll need rest and care. You must bring
her to us at Paris, Mr. Lester."
I saw the wisdom of her words, and said so.
"That's very kind of you," I added. "I am sure Mr. Royce will
agree--but we have first to find her, Miss Kemball."
I was glad for my own sake, too; the parting of to-morrow would not,
then, be a final one.
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