Baxter, who had received instructions to meet him, relieved him of his travelling bag, and a taximeter cab, whisking him quickly to the Place Vendôme, soon deposited him at the Hôtel du Rhin.

As for the Russian lady, Paul was a bit discouraged over the adventure. Langres and Paris were two entirely different places. What chance had he of finding her here?

He confessed to himself that it was[142] not a promising undertaking, yet sooner or later everyone came to Paris. Here he was, and here would he stay, for a time at least. Perhaps,—who knew?—he might find her more easily than he dared hope. And from his apartments he looked out over the tree-tops.

[142]

The sight of miles and miles of chimney pots were not at all reassuring.

"Well! I'll never find her, mooning away up here," he thought. "I'll go down to dinner—and then for a plan of action."

That night he went to the theatre, but his thoughts were not for the elegantly gowned daughters of respectable bourgeoises who disported themselves for his amusement. What if they did play the parts of grand duchesses better than those great ladies themselves know how? Only one woman on earth interested Paul.[143] And—confound his luck!—he did not know where in this great town he could find her.

[143]

Our Paul was not in a particularly pleasant frame of mind when he strolled out upon the pavement—not waiting even for the piece to end.

Another hour spent at a boulevard table impressed him as the height of stupidity. He chafed under the enforced inaction of the situation. "How many more wasted hours must he endure?" he asked himself.

He saw them slowly stretching out before him—days into months—months into years—years into eternity. Ah! God! that must not be!

And while Paul was wondering, speculating over what seemed well-nigh impossible, the lights of the Dalmatian Em[144]bassy in the Faubourg St. Germain gleamed brightly out upon the asphalt pavement.

[144]

In a sitting room on one of the upper floors sat Natalie Vseslavitch and the wife of the Ambassador. The guests of the evening had gone, and they were having one of those little, intimate ante-retiring chats so dear to the hearts of all 

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