I saw he was full of regret, for the whole hotel seemed startled, and guests were asking each other what had occurred to create all that hubbub.
For an hour we waited, but Delanne did not return. He and the others had gone away over the roofs, on what seemed to be an entirely fruitless errand.
“Were they the police?” I heard a lady ask anxiously of a waiter.
“No, madame, we think not. They are strangers—and entirely unknown.”
Sylvia also heard the man’s reply, and exclaimed—
“I hope my father has successfully escaped his enemies. It was, however, a very narrow shave. If they had seen him, they would have shot him dead, and afterwards declared it to have been an accident!”
“Surely not!” I cried. “That would have been murder.”
“Of course. But they are desperate, and they would have wriggled out of it somehow. That was why I feared for him. But, thank Heaven, he is evidently safe.”
And she turned from the window that looked forth into the Rue de Rivoli, and then made an excuse to go to her room.