nothing was the matter. On the way I tried to reason with myself. I asked how it was that I, Dick Hatteras, a man who thought he knew the world, should have been so impressed with a bit of wizardry as to be willing to risk making a fool of myself before the two last people in the world I wanted to think me one. Once I was almost tempted to turn back, but while the intention held me the picture rose before my mind's eye again, and on I went more determined to solve the mystery than before.
Arriving at the hotel, I paid my cabman off, and entered the hall. A gorgeously caparisoned porter stood on the steps, and of him I enquired where I could find Miss Wetherell. Imagine my surprise when he replied:
"They've left, sir. Started yesterday afternoon, quite suddenly, for Paris, on their way back to Australia!"
