caféTo Paris I accordingly went, and called at the last address given by Rosseau to the proprietor of the Genoa café. He had lived in apartments there, and I was told he had been gone away about eight months, and it was believed he had married an actress of the Châtelet. Inquiries pushed at this theatre revealed to me that the actress who had become Madame Henri Rosseau was none other than the beautiful but heartless Mdlle. Thérèse Fontaine—“La Belle Fontaine,” as the gilded youth of Paris had fondly called her. This news was instructive. La Belle Fontaine was the young lady who had beguiled Count Weberstein, and I began to think that the scent was getting warm. A little later I ascertained that the last heard of Rosseau and his wife was that they had gone to London. My next move, therefor
