recognised him for Chu-Chu le Tondeur; the contour of the bony outline of the face, the poise of the head on the body, the tightening of the sleeve over the muscular arm. There could be no doubt.
And yet it was an amazing thing, and the instant that he had recovered his upright position I could have sworn that my vision had played me a trick, due perhaps to my one constant idea. Chu-Chu's brows were thin and straight and black, his nose was long but low-bridged, his eyes were rather light in shade, his chin pointed. Also he was a more trimly-built man, less full in the paunch. I was almost baffled.
But the woman opposite was looking at me as if she wanted to get up and bolt, and that would never do. I smiled at her and wondered at the fascinated look in her eyes. But I didn't wonder long, for in my business I couldn't afford to miss a single trick. The glimpse that the Countess Rosalie had got of the criminal, the assassin, looking out of the eyes of the studious young preacher, had frightened and startled her, but it had aroused her curiosity. I saw the chance of securing a valuable pal.
"Madame," said I, with a reassuring smile, "what was it that you thought you saw in my face?"
She gave a nervous little laugh. "Something terrible," she answered, and glanced over her shoulder at the sun-flooded street. There was nothing but the gardens and shuttered houses opposite, and the grizzled taxi driver drowsing on his seat.
"You are right," I answered with another smile and a little shrug. "It was something terrible, be-
