She moved up the cathedral steps, and as she did so Westerham saw approaching the sombre figure of the black-bearded man whose presence in the little street by the Hôtel de la République had aroused his interest earlier in the morning.
But though their steps were evidently leading them to the same spot, neither the black-bearded man nor Lady Kathleen made the least sign. The girl passed into the cathedral, the man following closely on her heels.
In fear of losing sight of them Westerham almost ran across the square and darted up the cathedral steps. But for all his speed his feet fell silently, so that neither the girl nor the man, who now walked by her side, heard his quick pursuit.
Once in the cathedral, Westerham paused to accustom his eyes to the dimness of the light.
Far up the nave he could see the man and the girl walking side by side.
Then they turned from the nave into the north aisle and made their way thence into one of the dark recesses of a side chapel.
As he watched them vanish into the shadows Westerham paused.
He felt that he was spying, and the task was an uncongenial one, but he comforted himself with the reflection that, after all, he played the spy out of a desire to serve Lady Kathleen, and he walked on.
He saw that it would be impossible for him to approach the side chapel by the same way as Lady Kathleen had if he wished to remain unobserved. So he turned aside and drew near to the chapel by another way, sheltering himself behind the pillars, which cast black shadows on the floor.