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[Illustration: _A William Fox Production._ _The Winding Stair._ “NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.”]
=“_All rising to great place is by_= =_a winding stair._”—Bacon.=
=N E W Y O R K= =G R O S S E T & D U N L A P= =P U B L I S H E R S=
=COPYRIGHT, 1923,= =BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY=
=THE WINDING STAIR.= =———= =PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA=
CHAPTER PAGE I Flags and Pedigree. . . . . 9 II The Man with the Medals. . . 23 III At King’s Corner. . . . . 31 IV Betwixt and Between. . . . 44 V The Villa Iris. . . . . . 49 VI The Order. . . . . . . 62 VII The Pilgrimage. . . . . . 74 VIII Henriette Explains. . . . . 85 IX Marguerite Lambert. . . . . 98 X Colonel Vanderfelt’s Letter. . 114 XI A Dilemma. . . . . . . 119 XII The Little Door in the Angle. . 136 XIII The Companions of the Night. . 143 XIV The Tunic. . . . . . . 160 XV On the Roof Top. . . . . 173 XVI Marguerite’s Way Out. . . . 185 XVII The Outcasts. . . . . . 196 XVIII Captain Laguessière’s Report. . 212 XIX In the Sacred City. . . . . 227 XX The Coup de Grâce. . . . . 239 XXI Two Outcasts. . . . . . 248 XXII The Splendid Throw. . . . . 261 XXIII The Necessary Man. . . . . 272
“I have finished work for the week. I’ll see no one else were he as terse as Tacitus,” cried Mr. Ferguson, the lawyer.
It was six o’clock on a Friday afternoon and a pleasant rustle of the plane trees in the square came through the open window of the office. Mr. Ferguson thought of his cool garden at Goring, with the river running past, and of the fine long day he would have upon the links to-morrow. Gregory, the head clerk, however, held his ground.
“Perhaps if you would look at this card, Mr. Ferguson.”
“By the Lord, no! It’s a woman. She’ll be as prolix as the devil.”
“It’s not a woman,” the stubborn Gregory insisted.
“Then it’s a foreigner, and that’s worse.”
“It’s not even a real foreigner,” said Gregory. He had been a servant of the firm for thirty years, and knew the ins and outs of its affairs as thoroughly as the principals.
“You are very annoying, Gregory,” said Mr. Ferguson, with a sigh. He took the card regretfully, but when he had read the name printed upon it, he dropped it upon his table as if it had stung his hand.