“No, I will not let him,” said the gendarme. “I think he would knock Miss Harding down in his delight at seeing her again.”
He looked at me, but I could not reply, except with an inclination of my head. I had never been so unstrung and nervous in my life.
“Oh, I wish I could see Chance, just for a minute! Can’t I go out?” Jack pleaded; but I shook my head.
Then the gendarme said to him, speaking in English for the first time:
“I will send him to the hotel to-morrow, or perhaps come with him and call.”
“That is better,” I said.
Jack, finding that M. Seguin spoke English, started up, exclaiming:
“Look here, you, sir! Auntie has told me you are looking for Miss Scholaskie’s brother. I tell you he is in Paris, at the Bon Marché. It is a shame to frighten us so.”
“When did you last see him at the Bon Marché?” Michel asked.
This was a puzzler. Jack had never seen him, but had taken Sophie’s word for it. He could not tell a lie, and he finally stammered: “He was there ten days ago, when his sister left Paris. She came in the train with us. That’s the way we know her.”