As her hand tightened upon my arm I saw a man standing on the west side of Broadway and staring intently at us.
He was of a singular appearance. He wore a fur coat with a collar of Persian lamb, and on his head was a black lambskin cap such as is worn in colder climates, but it seldom seen in New York. He looked about thirty years of age, he had an aspect decidedly foreign, and I imagined that he was scowling at us malignantly.
I was not sure that this surmise was not due to an over-active imagination, but I was determined to get away from the man's scrutiny, so I called a taxicab and gave the driver my address.
"Go through some side streets and go fast," I said.
The fellow nodded. He understood my motive, though I fear he may have misinterpreted the circumstances. We entered, and the girl nestled back against the comfortable cushions, and we drove at a furious speed, dodging down side streets at a rate that should have defied pursuit.
During the drive I instructed my companion emphatically.
"Since you have no friends here, you must have confidence in me, mademoiselle," I said.
"And you are my friend? Well, monsieur, be sure I trust you," she answered.
"You must listen to me attentively, then," I continued. "You must not admit anybody to the apartment until I ring to-morrow. I have the key, and I shall arrive at nine and ring, and then unlock the door. But take no notice of the bell. You understand?"
"Yes, monsieur," she answered wearily. Her eyelids drooped; I saw that she was very sleepy.