The Master of the Mint IV. ’ ‘You saw? Where were you? How did you see?’ ‘Your heroic milice are not as clever as they thought. . ’ Gerald cast a swift look up the corridor, but there was no one there, not even a shadow. ‘How did you know that Mary was his daughter?’ Gerald hesitated. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. It was his belief that the French had enough troubles of their own in these difficult times without bothering to nose out British business. “He is quiet only this minute,” she said to the official. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. “Annabel;” he moaned. “You vixen!” said Mr.
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