Chapter 11 VON BEHRLING'S FATE

It seemed to Louise that she had scarcely been in bed an hour when the more confidential of her maids-Annette, the Frenchwoman-woke her with a light touch of the arm. She sat up in bed sleepily.

"What is it, Annette?" she asked. "Surely it is not mid-day yet? Why do you disturb me?"

"It is barely nine o'clock, Mademoiselle, but Monsieur Bella