"Obliged! Why?"
"Because I want your promise that you will make no attempt to stop him. If I had said nothing, you might have watched the house, and, upon recognizing the fellow as the one who was here tonight, have placed him under arrest. I want you to do nothing to interfere with either his coming or his going. He will be safe, after he once leaves the Arc de Triomphe in his automobile."
"But the police?"
"They know nothing of the matter. Miss Goncourt has given me her word to remain silent. She has even agreed to have the men on watch about the house withdrawn. Both you and the police may do your best to catch this man, after I have carried out my compact with him; but until then I want you to keep your hands off."
Duvall was silent for a moment. "Very well, Mr. Stapleton, I shall do as you say. In fact, to assure you that I am carrying out your wishes, I will agree to remain here with you, at the house, throughout the evening."
"Good! I shall expect you. Good night."
"Good night." Duvall left the house, and went at once to his hotel.
Here, a few moments later, he seated himself in an easy chair, and taking from his pocket the cigarette which he had secured in the chauffeur's room, regarded it critically.
After some little time, he took a match from a box upon a nearby table, and, placing the gold tip of the cigarette between his lips, carefully lit it.
He drew the smoke into his lungs, inhaling it deeply. Once—twice—three times he repeated the operation, then threw himself back into his chair, and, closing his eyes, sat buried in thought. In his preoccupation, he allowed the end of the cigarette to fall unheeded to the floor.