would, and, if all goes well, it may not very long do them any service at all."
"You mean—" began Mrs. Gleason.
But just then Bessie, who had arisen to go to the window to view the street, turned back with a start, and grasped Jack's hand.
"Look! Look!" she whispered, and through the curtains she pointed to a man on the opposite side of the way.
"Do you know him?" asked Jack.
"Know him? Yes, to my sorrow."
"Who is it?" asked Tom.
"The spy!" exclaimed Jack. "The man we saw in the train, and the same fellow who tried to get into our lodgings. In spite of our precautions he has found out where we are."
"I'm not so sure of that," said Tom. "He may not be here for any particular purpose. But do you know him too, Bessie?"
"Yes," the girl answered. "He was in the château where mother and I were held prisoners by Potzfeldt. He is a tool in the pay of that spy, and a spy himself!"
"Then we ought to do something!" exclaimed Jack, and he started to rush from the room.
