With a fierce imprecation of rage, the astonished young man rushed down to the office to interview the proprietor as to the meaning of the girl's disappearance.
Although Mona had supposed there was no one in the house who could speak English, there was an interpreter, and through him Louis soon made his trouble known.
"Impossible!" the amazed proprietor asserted; "no trunk had been removed from Number Eleven, and no young lady had left the house that morning."
Louis angrily insisted that there had, and in company with the landlord and the interpreter, he returned to Mona's room to prove his statement.
At first the affair was a great mystery, and created considerable excitement, but it was finally remembered that Americans had occupied the adjoining rooms, and it was therefore concluded that the young girl had managed in some way to make her situation known to them, and they, having left that morning, had, doubtless, assisted her in her flight.
"Who were they, and where were they going?" Louis demanded, in great excitement.
"Cutler was the name, and they had left early to take the steamer for New
York," they told him.
"What was her hour for sailing?" cried the young man.
"Nine-thirty," he was informed.
Louis looked at his watch.