“I can get an introduction to the Chef de bureau of the information department of the Ministere de la Guerre in Paris,” I replied after a moment's reflection. “He will be able to tell me whether Captain Vauvenarde is alive or dead.”
“He is alive. He must be.”
“Very well. But I doubt whether Captain Vauvenarde keeps the office informed of his movements.”
“But you'll go in search of him, won't you?”
“The earth is rather a large place,” I objected. “He may be in Dieppe, or he may be on top of Mount Popocatapetl.”
“I'm sure you'll find him,” she said encouragingly.
“You'll own,” said I, “that there's something humourous in the idea of my wandering all over the surface of the planet in search of a lost captain of Chasseurs. It is true that we might employ a private detective.”
“Yes!” she cried eagerly. “Why not? Then you could stay here—and I could go on seeing you till the news came. Let us do that.”
The swiftness of her change of mood surprised me.
“What is the particular object of your going on seeing me?” I asked, with a smile.