“Inquire your way,” repeated Palmer mechanically. “I have seen you often this autumn going upstairs in this building.”
“True, to visit my friend, Major Jean,” calmly. “He left to-day.” La Montague looked more closely at Maynard and Palmer and their serious manner surprised him. “I fear I unintentionally intruded by stopping at your door,” he said haughtily, as he straightened himself. “I would not have risked disturbing you, but that I saw a man leave your door a second before.”
“A man!” Palmer came closer. “Did you see who he was?”
“I called to him to wait,” went on La Montagne, not answering the question directly. “But he did not evidently hear my hail or my question regarding Madame Van Ness’ apartment, for he did not stop.”
Maynard, listening with eager attention, looked his disappointment.
“Have you no idea who the man was?” he demanded. “It’s important, René; can you not describe the man?”
“Only that he wore the costume of a chauffeur,” responded the French officer. “I took him to be a taxi-driver.”
CHAPTER IX
THE TELEGRAM
JONES, on his way up the stairs to the housekeeper’s suite of rooms on the third floor, was startled by the unexpected appearance of Mrs. Burnham at his elbow. Absorbed in carrying the heavily laden tray without spilling its contents he had failed to hear her footstep on the stair behind him.
“It strikes me, Jones, that you have a hearty meal there for a sick woman,” she remarked, inspecting the hot dishes with a critical eye.