“Yes; but you did not tell after that.”
“I didn’t know but I should be forced to flee from France to save my life,” said Frank; “and, to be honest, I didn’t want you to know I had taken to my heels.”
From any other fellow, this might have seemed a reasonable explanation; but, although it was spoken openly and honestly, it seemed like a confession of a weakness, and they were looking for nothing of the sort in him. However, if he really had a weakness, it seemed natural that he should be the first to discover it, and expose it.
“That’s a pretty slim excuse!” growled the big Yale man. “I think you have treated us in a thundering shabby manner!”
“I can’t help it, boys. I may have to skip out of France now, but something tells me that the hour of great danger is past.”
At this moment, a man and a woman sat down at a table just vacated by a party. The man was tall, dark, scowling; the woman was young, handsome, scornful. There was something extremely unpleasant about her, even though she was handsome. As she sat down with her companion, he said something that caused her to laugh. Frank Merriwell started as if he had been shot. His hand went out, and fell on Jack Diamond’s arm.
“I have heard that laugh before!” he whispered. “She is Mademoiselle Nameless!”
“The woman who tried to murder you!” replied the Virginian.
“The same!” nodded Merry.
As the man and woman sat down, several of the men at another table, those whom the boys had heard talking together, bowed coldly to the newcomers. One or two of the men stared at them in stony silence.