On each side of my long line I make me a half circle--only half way round on the opposite sides. So, now, what I got, eh? You understand him?"

I shook my head. He pointed in turn to the rude ornamentation in the sh.e.l.l clasp. I declare that then I could see a resemblance between the two designs!

"It is curious," I said.

"_Mein Gott_! it iss more than curious. It iss vonderful! I haf two _Amazonias_ collected by my own bands, and twelve species of my own discovery, yess, in b.u.t.terflies alone. That iss much? Listen. It iss notings! _Here_ iss the _discovery!_"

He took a pace or two excitedly, and came back to thump with his forefinger on the little desk.

"What you see before you iss the sign of the Great Monad! It iss known in China, in Burmah, in all Asia, in all j.a.pan. It iss sign of the great One, of the great Two. In your hand iss the Tah Gook--the Oriental symbol for life, for s.e.x. Myself, I haf seen that in Sitka on Chinese bra.s.ses; I haf seen it on j.a.panese signs, in one land and in another land. But here you show it to me made by the hand of some ignorant aborigine of _this_ continent! On _this_ continent, where it did not originate and does not belong! It iss a discovery! Science shall hear of it. It iss the link of Asia to America. It brings me fame!"

He put his hand into a pocket, and drew it out half filled with gold pieces and with raw gold in the form of nuggets, as though he would offer exchange. I waved him back. "No," said I; "you are welcome to one of these disks, if you please. If you wish, I will take one little bit of these. But tell me, where did you find these pieces of raw gold?"

"Those? They are notings. I recollect me I found these one day up on the Rogue River, not far from my cabin. I am pursuing a most beautiful moth, such as I haf not in all my collection. So, I fall on a log; I skin me my leg. In the moss I find some bits of rock. I recollect me not where, but believe it wa.s.s somewhere there. But what I find now, here, by a stranger--it iss worth more than gold! My friend, I thank you, I embrace you! I am favored by fate to meet you. Go with you to Washington? Yess, yess, I go!"

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 our acquaintance, although in his amiable and childlike fashion he babbled of matters which to me seemed unimportant. He was eager to propound his views on the connection of the American tribes with the peoples of the Orient, whereas I was all for talking of the connection of England and the United States with Oregon. Thus we pa.s.sed the luncheon hour at the hostelry of my friend Jacques Bertillon; after which I suggested a stroll about the town for a time, there being that upon my mind which left me ill disposed to remain idle. He agreed to my suggestion, a fact for 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 on the little commode a pair of pistols of American make, and, with a word of 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, even as he spoke, the feeling that his remark was strangely true. My eye fell on the commode's top, casually. I saw that it now was bare. I recalled the strange warning of the baroness the evening previous. I was watched!

My apartment had been entered in my absence. Property of mine had been taken.

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 something from 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 my face showed me none too calm. He broke out in a gentle laugh.

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

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

"There iss not need, my young friend. Wa.s.s I not also young once? Yess, once wa.s.s I young." He laid down the pistols, and I placed them with my already considerable personal armament, which seemed to give him no concern.

"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 blue and green, of unknown colors; creatures of air and sky. Haf I not seen them? But always that one species which we pursue, we do not find. Once in my life, in Oregon, I follow through the forest a smell of sweet fields of flowers coming to me. At last I find it--a wide field of flowers. It wa.s.s in summer time. Over the flowers were many, many b.u.t.terflies. Some of them I knew; some of them I had. One great new one, such as I haf not seen, it wa.s.s there. It rested. 'I shall now make it mine,' I said. It iss fame to gif name first to this so n.o.ble a species.

I would inclose it with mein little net. Like this, you see, I creep up to it. As I am about to put it gently in my net--not to harm it, or break it, or brush away the color of its wings--lo! like a puff of down, it rises and goes above my head. I reach for it; I miss. It rises still 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 but do not always haf, eh? Believe me, my friend, yess, the study of the species ha.s.s interest. Once I wa.s.s young. Should I see that little shoe I think myself of the time when I wa.s.s 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 and uneasy. We turned out of narrow Notre Dame Street, and into St. Lawrence Main Street. As we strolled I noted without much interest the motley life about me, picturesque now with the activities of the advancing spring. Presently, however, my idle gaze was drawn to two young Englishmen whose bearing in some way gave me the impression that they belonged in official or military life, although they were in civilian garb.

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 by appointment, by another gentleman, one whose appearance at once gave me reason for a second look. The severe air of the Canadian spring seemed not pleasing to him, and he wore his coat hunched up about his neck, as though he were better used to milder climes. He accosted my young Englishman, and without hesitation the two started off together. As they did so I gave an involuntary exclamation. The taller man I had seen once before, the shorter, very many times--in Washington!

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

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

"Yess--last night. The tall one iss Mr. Peel, a young Englishman; the other is Mexican, they said--Senor Yturrio, of Mexico. He spoke much.

Me, I wa.s.s sleepy then. But also that other tall one we saw go back--that wa.s.s Captain Parke, also of the British Navy. His ship iss the war boat _Modeste_--a fine one. I see her often when I walk on the riffer front, there."

I turned to him and made some excuse, saying that presently I would join him 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 or so ahead of me.

I saw them turn into a street which was familiar to myself. They pa.s.sed on, turning from time to time among the old houses of the French quarter. Presently they entered the short side street which I myself had seen for the first time the previous night. I pretended to busy myself with my pipe, as they turned in at the very gate which I knew, and knocked 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 were indeed conferring here in Montreal. There were matters going forward here in which my government was concerned. That was evident. I was almost in touch with them. That also was evident. How, then, might I gain yet closer touch?

At the moment nothing better occurred to me than to return to my room and wait for a time. It would serve no purpose for me to disclose myself, either in or out of the apartments of the baroness, and it would not aid me to be seen idling about the neighborhood in a city where there was so much reason to suppose strangers were watched. I resolved to wait until the next morning, and to take my friend Von Rittenhofen with me. He need not know all that I knew, yet in case of any accident to myself or any sudden contretemps, he would serve both as a witness and as an excuse for disarming any suspicion which might be entertained regarding myself.

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

A sense of uneasiness began to oppress me, I knew not why, before I had gone half way down the little street from the corner where we turned. It was gloomy and dismal enough at the best, and on this morning an unusual apathy seemed to sit upon it, for few of the shutters were down, although the hour was now mid-morning. Here and there a homely habitant appeared, and bade us good morning; and once in a while we saw the face of a good wife peering from the window. Thus we pa.s.sed some dozen houses or so, in a row, and paused opposite the little gate. I saw that the shutters were closed, or at least all but one or two, which were partly ajar. Something said to me that it would be as well for me to turn back.

I might as well have done so. We pa.s.sed up the little walk, and I raised the knocker at the door; but even as it sounded I knew what would happen. There came to me that curious feeling which one experiences when one knocks at the door of a house which lacks human occupancy. Even more strongly I had that strange feeling now, because this sound was not merely that of unoccupied rooms--it came from rooms empty and echoing!

I tried the door. It was not locked. I flung it wide, and stepped within. At first I could not adjust my eyes to the dimness. Absolute silence reigned. I pushed open a shutter and looked about me. The rooms were not only unoccupied, but unfurnished! The walls and floors were utterly bare! Not a sign of human occupancy existed. I hastened out to the little walk, and looked up and down the street, to satisfy myself that I had made no mistake. No, this was the number--this was the place.

Yesterday these rooms were fitted sumptuously as for a princess; now they were naked. Not a stick of the furniture existed, nor was there any trace 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 in the little neighborhood. I could learn nothing. No one knew anything of the occupant of these rooms. No one had heard any carts approach, nor had distinguished any sounds during the night.