MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO

 BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM

AUTHOR OF "THE VANISHED MESSENGER, " "A PEOPLE'S MAN, " "THE MISCHIEFMAKER"

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BYWILL GREFÉ

BOSTONLITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY1915

THE COLONIAL PRESSC. H. SIMONDS CO. , BOSTON, U. S. A. 

[Illustration: She leaned across and with trembling fingers backednumber fourteen _en plein_. ]

CONTENTS

 I. An Unexpected Meeting

 II. By Accident or Design

 III. A Warning

 IV. Enter the American

 V. "Who is Mr. Grex?"

 VI. Cakes and Counsels

 VII. The Effrontery of Richard

 VIII. Up the Mountain

 IX. In the Mists

 X. Signs of Trouble

 XI. Hints to Hunterleys

 XII. "I Cannot Go!"

 XIII. Miss Grex at Home

 XIV. Dinner for Two

 XV. International Politics

 XVI. A Bargain with Jean Coulois

 XVII. Duty Interferes Again

 XVIII. A Midnight Conference

 XIX. "Take Me Away!"

 XX. Wily Mr. Draconmeyer

 XXI. Assassination!

 XXII. The Wrong Man

 XXIII. Trouble Brewing

 XXIV. Hunterleys Scents Murder

 XXV. Draconmeyer is Desperate

 XXVI. Extraordinary Love-Making

 XXVII. Playing for High Stakes

 XXVIII. To the Villa Mimosa

 XXIX. For His Country

 XXX. "Supposing I Take This Money"

 XXXI. Nearing a Crisis

 XXXII. An Interesting Meeting

 XXXIII. The Fates Are Kind

 XXXIV. Coffee for One Only

 XXXV. A New Map of the Earth

 XXXVI. Checkmate!

 XXXVII. An Amazing Elopement

XXXVIII. Honeymooning

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

She leaned across and with trembling fingers backed number fourteen _enplein_

"For the last time, then--to Monte Carlo!"

"Come on, you fellows!" he shouted

"What we ask of France is that she looks the other way"

"That two hundred shall be five hundred, but it must be a cemetery towhich they take him!"

Mr. Grex, with his daughter and Lady Hunterleys on one side and MonsieurDouaille on the other, were in the van. 

MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO

CHAPTER I

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING

The eyes of the man who had looked in upon a scene inordinately, fantastically brilliant, underwent, after those first few moments ofcomparative indifference, a curious transformation. He was contemplatingone of the sights of the world. Crowded around the two roulette tables, promenading or lounging on the heavily cushioned divans against thewall, he took note of a conglomeration of people representing, perhaps, every grade of society, every nationality of importance, yet with acurious common likeness by reason of their tribute paid to fashion. Heglanced unmoved at a beautiful Englishwoman who was a duchess but lookedotherwise; at an equally beautiful Frenchwoman, who looked like aduchess but was--otherwise. On every side of him were women gowned bythe great artists of the day, women like flowers, all perfume andsoftness and colour. His eyes passed them over almost carelessly. Alittle tired with many weeks' travel in countries where the luxuries oflife were few, his senses were dulled to the magnificence of the scene, his pulses as yet had not responded to its charm and wonder. And thenthe change came. He saw a woman standing almost exactly opposite to himat the nearest roulette table, and he gave a noticeable start. For amoment his pale, expressionless face was transformed, his secret was atany one's mercy. That, however, was the affair of an instant only. Hewas used to shocks and he survived this one. He moved a little on oneside from his prominent place in the centre of the wide-flung doorway. He stood by one of the divans and watched. 

She was tall and fair and slight. She wore a high-necked gown ofshimmering grey, a black hat, under which her many coils of hair shonelike gold, and a necklace of pearls around her throat, pearls on whichhis eyes had rested with a curious expression. She played, unlike manyof her neighbours, with restraint, yet with interest, almost enthusiasm. There was none of the strain of the gambler about her smooth, beautifulface. Her delicately curved lips were free from the grim lines ofconcentrated acquisitiveness. She was thirty-two years old but shelooked much younger as she stood there, her lips a little parted in apleased smile of anticipation. She was leaning a little over the tableand her eyes were fixed with humorous intentness upon the spinningwheel. Even amongst that crowd of beautiful women she possessed acertain individual distinction. She not only looked what she was--anEnglishwoman of good birth--but there was a certain delicate aloofnessabout her expression and bearing which gave an added charm to apersonality which seemed to combine the two extremes of provocativenessand reserve. One would have hesitated to address to her even the chanceremarks which pass so easily between strangers around the tables. 

"Violet here!" the man murmured under his breath. "Violet!"

There was tragedy in the whisper, a gleam of something like tragedy, too, in the look which passed between the man and the woman a fewmoments later. With her hands full of plaques which she had just won, she raised her eyes at last from the board. The smile upon her lips wasthe delighted smile of a girl. And then, as she was in the act ofsweeping her winnings into her gold bag, she saw the man opposite. Thesmile seemed to die from her lips; it appeared, indeed, to pass with allelse of expression from her face. The plaques dropped one by one throughher fingers, into the satchel. Her eyes remained fixed upon him asthough she were looking upon a ghost. The seconds seemed drawn out intoa grim hiatus of time. The croupier's voice, the muttered imprecation ofa loser by her side, the necessity of making some slight movement inorder to allow the passage of an arm from some one in search ofchange--some such trifle at last brought her back from the shadows. Herexpression became at once more normal. She did not remove her eyes butshe very slightly inclined her head towards the man. He, in return, bowed very gravely and without a smile. 

The table in front of her was cleared now. People were beginning toconsider their next coup. The voice of the croupier, with hisparrot-like cry, travelled down the board. 

_"Faites vos jeux, mesdames et messieurs. "_

The woman made no effort to stake. After a moment's hesitation sheyielded up her place, and moving backwards, seated herself upon an emptydivan. Rapidly the thoughts began to form themselves in her mind. Herdelicate eyebrows drew closer together in a distinct frown. After thatfirst shock, that queer turmoil of feeling, beyond analysis, yet havingwithin it some entirely unexpected constituent, she found herselfdisposed to be angry. The sensation had not subsided when a moment ortwo later she was conscious that the man whose coming had proved sodisturbing was standing before her. 

"Good afternoon, " he said, a little stiffly. 

She raised her eyes. The frown was still upon her forehead, although toa certain extent it was contradicted by a slight tremulousness of thelips. 

"Good afternoon, Henry!"

For some reason or other, further speech seemed to him a difficultmatter. He moved towards the vacant place. 

"If you have no objection, " he observed, as he seated himself. 

She unfurled her fan--an ancient but wonderful weapon of defence. Itgave her a brief respite. Then she looked at him calmly. 

"Of all places in the world, " she murmured, "to meet you here!"

"Is it so extraordinary?"

"I find it so, " she admitted. "You don't at all fit in, you know. Ascene like this, " she added, glancing around, "would scarcely ever belikely to attract you for its own sake, would it?"

"It doesn't particularly, " he admitted. 

"Then why have you come?"

He remained silent. The frown upon her forehead deepened. 

"Perhaps, " she went on coldly, "I can help you with your reply. You havecome because you are not satisfied with the reports of the privatedetective whom you have engaged to watch me. You have come to supplementthem by your own investigation. "

His frown matched hers. The coldness of his tone was rendered even morebitter by its note of anger. 

"I am surprised that you should have thought me capable of such anaction, " he declared. "All I can say is that it is thoroughly in keepingwith your other suspicions of me, and that I find it absolutelyunworthy. "

She laughed a little incredulously, not altogether naturally. 

"My dear Henry, " she protested, "I cannot flatter myself that there isany other person in the world sufficiently interested in my movements tohave me watched. "

"Are you really under the impression that that is the case?" he enquiredgrimly. 

"It isn't a matter of impression at all, " she retorted. "It is thetruth. I was followed from London, I was watched at Cannes, I am watchedhere day by day--by a little man in a brown suit and a Homburg hat, andwith a habit of lounging. He lounges under my windows, he is probablylounging across the way now. He has lounged within fifty yards of me forthe last three weeks, and to tell you the truth I am tired of him. Couldn't I have a week's holiday? I'll keep a diary and tell you allthat you want to know. "

"Is it sufficient, " he asked, "for me to assure you, upon my word ofhonour, that I know nothing of this?"

She was somewhat startled. She turned and looked at him. His tone wasconvincing. He had not the face of a man whose word of honour was anegligible thing. 

"But, Henry, " she protested, "I tell you that there is no doubt aboutthe matter. I am watched day and night--I, an insignificant person whosedoings can be of no possible interest save to you and you only. "

The man did not at once reply. His thoughts seemed to have wandered offfor a moment. When he spoke again, his tone had lost its note ofresentment. 

"I do not blame you for your suspicion, " he said calmly, "although I canassure you that I have never had any idea of having you watched. It isnot a course which could possibly have suggested itself to me, even inmy most unhappy moments. "

She was puzzled--at once puzzled and interested. 

"I am so glad to hear this, " she said, "and of course I believe you, butthere the fact is. I think that you will agree with me that it iscurious. "

"Isn't it possible, " he ventured to suggest, "that it is your companionswho are the object of this man's vigilance? You are not, I presume, alone here?"

She eyed him a little defiantly. 

"I am here, " she announced, "with Mr. And Mrs. Draconmeyer. "

He heard her without any change of expression, but somehow or other itwas easy to see that her news, although more than half expected, hadstung him. 

"Mr. And Mrs. Draconmeyer, " he repeated, with slight emphasis on thelatter portion of the sentence. 

"Certainly! I am sorry, " she went on, a moment late, "that my companionsdo not meet with your approval. That, however, I could scarcely expect, considering--"

"Considering what?" he insisted, watching her steadfastly. 

"Considering all things, " she replied, after a moment's pause. 

"Mrs. Draconmeyer is still an invalid?"

"She is still an invalid. "

The slightly satirical note in his question seemed to provoke a certaindefiance in her manner as she turned a little sideways towards him. Shemoved her fan slowly backwards and forwards, her head was thrown back, her manner was almost belligerent. He took up the challenge. He askedher in plain words the question which his eyes had already demanded. 

"I find myself constrained to ask you, " he said, in a studiouslymeasured tone, "by what means you became possessed of the pearls you arewearing? I do not seem to remember them as your property. "

Her eyes flashed. 

"Don't you think, " she returned, "that you are a little outstepping yourprivileges?"

"Not in the least, " he declared. "You are my wife, and although you havedefied me in a certain matter, you are still subject to my authority. Isee you wearing jewels in public of which you were certainly notpossessed a few months ago, and which neither your fortune nor mine--"

"Let me set your mind at rest, " she interrupted icily. "The pearls arenot mine. They belong to Mrs. Draconmeyer. "

"Mrs. Draconmeyer!"

"I am wearing them, " she continued, "at Linda's special request. She istoo unwell to appear in public and she is very seldom able to wear anyof her wonderful jewelry. It gives her pleasure to see them sometimesupon other people. "

He remained quite silent for several moments. He was, in reality, passionately angry. Self-restraint, however, had become such a habit ofhis that there were no indications of his condition save in the slighttwitchings of his long fingers and a tightening at the corners of hislips. She, however, recognised the symptoms without difficulty. 

"Since you defy my authority, " he said, "may I ask whether my wisheshave any weight with you?"

"That depends, " she replied. 

"It is my earnest wish, " he went on, "that you do not wear anotherwoman's jewelry, either in public or privately. "

She appeared to reflect for a moment. In effect she was strugglingagainst a conviction that his request was reasonable. 

"I am sorry, " she said at last. "I see no harm whatever in my doing soin this particular instance. It gives great pleasure to poor Mrs. Draconmeyer to see her jewels and admire them, even if she is unable towear them herself. It gives me an intense joy which even a normal mancould scarcely be expected to understand; certainly not you. I am sorrythat I cannot humour you. "

He leaned towards her. 

"Not if I beg you?"

She looked at him fixedly, looked at him as though she searched forsomething in his face, or was pondering over something in his tone. Itwas a moment which might have meant much. If she could have seen intohis heart and understood the fierce jealousy which prompted his words, it might have meant a very great deal. As it was, her contemplationappeared to be unsatisfactory. 

"I am sorry that you should lay so much stress upon so small a thing, "she said. "You were always unreasonable. Your present request is anotherinstance of it. I was enjoying myself very much indeed until you came, and now you wish to deprive me of one of my chief pleasures. I cannothumour you. "

He turned away. Even then chance might have intervened. The moment herwords had been spoken she realised a certain injustice in them, realiseda little, perhaps, the point of view of this man who was still herhusband. She watched him almost eagerly, hoping to find some sign in hisface that it was not only his stubborn pride which spoke. She failed, however. He was one of those men who know too well how to wear the mask. 

"May I ask where you are staying here?" he enquired presently. 

"At the Hotel de Paris. "

"It is unfortunate, " he observed. "I will move my quarters to-morrow. "

She shrugged her shoulders. 

"Monte Carlo is full of hotels, " she remarked, "but it seems a pity thatyou should move. The place is large enough for both of us. "

"It is not long, " he retorted, "since you found London itself too small. I should be very sorry to spoil your holiday. "

Her eyes seemed to dwell for a moment upon the Spanish dancer who sat atthe table opposite them, a woman whose name had once been a householdword, dethroned now, yet still insistent for notice and homage;commanding them, even, with the wreck of her beauty and the splendour ofher clothes. 

"It seems a queer place, this, " she observed, "for domesticdisagreements. Let us try to avoid disputable subjects. Shall I be tooinquisitive if I ask you once more what in the name of all that isunsuitable brought you to such a place as Monte Carlo?"

He fenced with her question. Perhaps he resented the slightly ironicalnote in her tone. Perhaps there were other reasons. 

"Why should I not come to Monte Carlo?" he enquired. "Parliament is notparticularly amusing when one is in opposition, and I do not hunt. Thewhole world amuses itself here. "

"But not you, " she replied quickly. "I know you better than that, mydear Henry. There is nothing here or in this atmosphere which couldpossibly attract you for long. There is no work for you to do--work, thevery breath of your body; work, the one thing you live for and were madefor; work, you man of sawdust and red tape. "

"Am I as bad as all that?" he asked quietly. 

She fingered her pearls for a moment. 

"Perhaps I haven't the right to complain, " she acknowledged. "I havegone my own way always. But if one is permitted to look for a momentinto the past, can you tell me a single hour when work was not theprominent thought in your brain, the idol before which you worshipped?Why, even our honeymoon was spent canvassing!"

"The election was an unexpected one, " he reminded her. 

"It would have been the same thing, " she declared. "The only literaturewhich you really understand is a Blue Book, and the only music you hearis the chiming of Big Ben. "

"You speak, " he remarked, "as though you resented these things. Yet youknew before you married me that I had ambitions, that I did not proposeto lead an idle life. "

"Oh, yes, I knew!" she assented drily. "But we are wandering from thepoint. I am still wondering what has brought you here. Have you comedirect from England?"

He shook his head. 

"I came to-day from Bordighera. "

"More and more mysterious, " she murmured. "Bordighera, indeed! I thoughtyou once told me that you hated the Riviera. "

"So I do, " he agreed. 

"And yet you are here?"

"Yet I am here. "

"And you have not come to look after me, " she went on, "and the mysteryof the little brown man who watches me is still unexplained. "

"I know nothing about that person, " he asserted, "and I had no idea thatyou were here. "

"Or you would not have come?" she challenged him. 

"Your presence, " he retorted, nettled into forgetting himself for amoment, "would not have altered my plans in the slightest. "

"Then you have a reason for coming!" she exclaimed quickly. 

He gave no sign of annoyance but his lips were firmly closed. Shewatched him steadfastly. 

"I wonder at myself no longer, " she continued. "I do not think that anywoman in the world could ever live with a man to whom secrecy is asgreat a necessity as the very air he breathes. No wonder, my dear Henry, the politicians speak so well of you, and so confidently of yourbrilliant future!"

"I am not aware, " he observed calmly, "that I have ever been undulysecretive so far as you are concerned. During the last few months, however, of our life together, you must remember that you chose toreceive on terms of friendship a person whom I regard--"

Her eyes suddenly flashed him a warning. He dropped his voice almost toa whisper. A man was approaching them. 

"As an enemy, " he concluded, under his breath. 

CHAPTER II

BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN

The newcomer, who had presented himself now before Hunterleys and hiswife, was a man of somewhat unusual appearance. He was tall, thickly-built, his black beard and closely-cropped hair were streakedwith grey, he wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and he carried his head alittle thrust forward, as though, even with the aid of his glasses, hewas still short-sighted. He had the air of a foreigner, although histone, when he spoke, was without accent. He held out his hand a littletentatively, an action, however, which Hunterleys appeared to ignore. 

"My dear Sir Henry!" he exclaimed. "This is a surprise, indeed! MonteCarlo is absolutely the last place in the world in which I should haveexpected to come across you. The Sporting Club, too! Well, well, well!"

Hunterleys, standing easily with his hands behind his back, raised hiseyebrows. The two men were of curiously contrasting types. Hunterleys, slim and distinguished, had still the frame of an athlete, notwithstanding his colourless cheeks and the worn lines about his eyes. He was dressed with extreme simplicity. His deep-set eyes and sensitivemouth were in marked contrast to the other's coarser mould of featuresand rather full lips. Yet there was about both men an air of strength, strength developed, perhaps, in a different manner, but still anappreciable quality. 

"They say that the whole world is here, " Hunterleys remarked. "Why maynot I form a harmless unit of it?"

"Why not, indeed?" Draconmeyer assented heartily. "The most serious ofus must have our frivolous moments. I hope that you will dine with usto-night? We shall be quite alone. "

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"Thank you, " he said, "I have another engagement pending. "

Mr. Draconmeyer was filled with polite regrets, but he did not renew theinvitation. 

"When did you arrive?" he asked. 

"A few hours ago, " Hunterleys replied. 

"By the Luxe? How strange! I went down to meet it. "

"I came from the other side. "

"Ah!"

Mr. Draconmeyer's ejaculation was interrogative, Hunterleys hesitatedfor a moment. Then he continued with a little shrug of the shoulders. 

"I have been staying at San Remo and Bordighera. "

Mr. Draconmeyer was much interested. 

"So that is where you have been burying yourself, " he remarked. "I sawfrom the papers that you had accepted a six months' pair. Surely, though, you don't find the Italian Riviera very amusing?"

"I am abroad for a rest, " Hunterleys replied. 

Mr. Draconmeyer smiled curiously. 

"A rest?" he repeated. "That rather belies your reputation, you know. They say that you are tireless, even when you are out of office. "

Hunterleys turned from the speaker towards his wife. 

"I have not tempted fortune myself yet, " he observed. "I think that Ishall have a look into the baccarat room. Do you care to stroll thatway?"

Lady Hunterleys rose at once to her feet. Mr. Draconmeyer, however, intervened. He laid his fingers upon Hunterleys' arm. 

"Sir Henry, " he begged, "our meeting has been quite unexpected, but in asense it is opportune. Will you be good enough to give me five minutes'conversation?"

"With pleasure, " Hunterleys replied. "My time is quite at your disposal, if you have anything to say. "

Draconmeyer led the way out of the crowded room, along the passage andinto the little bar. They found a quiet corner and two easy-chairs. Draconmeyer gave an order to a waiter. For a few moments theirconversation was conventional. 

"I trust that you think your wife looking better for the change?"Draconmeyer began. "Her companionship is a source of great pleasure andrelief to my poor wife. "

"Does the conversation you wish to have with me refer to LadyHunterleys?" her husband asked quietly. "If so, I should like to say afew preliminary words which would, I hope, place the matter at oncebeyond the possibility of any misunderstanding. "

Draconmeyer moved a little uneasily in his place. 

"I have other things to say, " he declared, "yet I would gladly hear whatis in your mind at the present moment. You do not, I fear, approve ofthis friendship between my wife and Lady Hunterleys. "

Hunterleys was uncompromising, almost curt. 

"I do not, " he agreed. "It is probably no secret to you that my wife andI are temporarily estranged, " he continued. "The chief reason for thatestrangement is that I forbade her your house or your acquaintance. "

Draconmeyer was a little taken back. Such extreme directness of speechwas difficult to deal with. 

"My dear Sir Henry, " he protested, "you distress me. I do not understandyour attitude in this matter at all. "

"There is no necessity for you to understand it, " Hunterleys retortedcoolly. "I claim the right to regulate my wife's visiting list. Shedenies that right. "

"Apart from the question of marital control, " Mr. Draconmeyer persisted, "will you tell me why you consider my wife and myself unfit persons tofind a place amongst Lady Hunterleys' acquaintances?"

"No man is bound to give the reason for his dislikes, " Hunterleysreplied. "Of your wife I know nothing. Nobody does. I have everysympathy with her unfortunate condition, and that is all. You personallyI dislike. I dislike my wife to be seen with you, I dislike having hername associated with yours in any manner whatsoever. I dislike sittingwith you here myself. I only hope that the five minutes' conversationwhich you have asked for will not be exceeded. "

Mr. Draconmeyer had the air of a benevolent person who is deeply pained. 

"Sir Henry, " he sighed, "it is not possible for me to disregard suchplain speaking. Forgive me if I am a little taken aback by it. You areknown to be a very skilful diplomatist and you have many weapons in yourarmoury. One scarcely expected, however--one's breath is a little takenaway by such candour. "

"I am not aware, " Hunterleys said calmly, "that the question ofdiplomacy need come in when one's only idea is to regulate the personalacquaintances of oneself and one's wife. "

Mr. Draconmeyer sat quite still for a moment, stroking his black beard. His eyes were fixed upon the carpet. He seemed to be struggling with aproblem. 

"You have taken the ground from beneath my feet, " he declared. "Youropinion of me is such that I hesitate to proceed at all in the matterwhich I desired to discuss with you. "

"That, " Hunterleys replied, "is entirely for you to decide. I amperfectly willing to listen to anything you have to say--all the moreready because now there can be no possibility of any misunderstandingbetween us. "

"Very well, " Mr. Draconmeyer assented, "I will proceed. After all, I amnot sure that the personal element enters into what I was about to say. I was going to propose not exactly an alliance--that, of course, wouldnot be possible--but I was certainly going to suggest that you and Imight be of some service to one another. "

"In what way?"

"I call myself an Englishman, " Mr. Draconmeyer went on. "I have madelarge sums of money in England, I have grown to love England and Englishways. Yet I came, as you know, from Berlin. The position which I hold inyour city is still the position of president of the greatest German bankin the world. It is German finance which I have directed, and withGerman money I have made my fortune. To be frank with you, however, after these many years in London I have grown to feel myself very muchof an Englishman. "

Hunterleys was sitting perfectly still. His face was rigid butexpressionless. He was listening intently. 

"On the other hand, " Mr. Draconmeyer proceeded slowly, "I wish to bewholly frank with you. At heart I must remain always a German. Theinterests of my country must always be paramount. But listen. In Germanythere are, as you know, two parties, and year by year they are drawingfurther apart. I will not allude to factions. I will speak broadly. There is the war party and there is the peace party. I belong to thepeace party. I belong to it as a German, and I belong to it as a devotedfriend of England, and if the threatened conflict between the two shouldcome, I should take my stand as a peace-loving German-cum-Englishmanagainst the war party even of my own country. "

Hunterleys still made no sign. Yet for one who knew him it was easy torealise that he was listening and thinking with absorbed interest. 

"So far, " Draconmeyer pointed out, "I have laid my cards on the table. Ihave told you the solemn truth. I regret that it did not occur to me todo so many months ago in London. Now to proceed. I ask you to emulate myfrankness, and in return I will give you information which should enableus to work hand in hand for the peace which we both desire. "

"You ask me, " Hunterleys said thoughtfully, "to be perfectly frank withyou. In what respect? What is it that you wish from me?"

"Not political information, " Mr. Draconmeyer declared, his eyes blinkingbehind his glasses. "For that I certainly should not come to you. I onlywish to ask you a question, and I must ask it so that we may meet on acommon ground of confidence. Are you here in Monte Carlo to look afteryour wife, or in search of change of air and scene? Is that your honestmotive for being here? Or is there any other reason in the world whichhas prompted you to come to Monte Carlo during this particular month--Imight almost say this particular week?"

Hunterleys' attitude was that of a man who holds in his hand a puzzleand is doubtful where to commence in his efforts to solve it. 

"Are you not a little mysterious this afternoon, Mr. Draconmeyer?" heasked coldly. "Or are you trying to incite a supposititious curiosity? Ireally cannot see the drift of your question. "

"Answer it, " Mr. Draconmeyer insisted. 

Hunterleys took a cigarette from his case, tapped it upon the table andlit it in leisurely fashion. 

"If you have any idea, " he said, "that I came here to confront my wife, or to interfere in any way with her movements, let me assure you thatyou are mistaken. I had no idea that Lady Hunterleys was in Monte Carlo. I am here because I have a six months' holiday, and a holiday for theaverage Englishman between January and April generally means, as youmust be aware, the Riviera. I have tried Bordighera and San Remo. I havefound them, as I no doubt shall find this place, wearisome. In the end Isuppose I shall drift back to London. "

Mr. Draconmeyer frowned. 

"You left London, " he remarked tersely, "on December first. It is to-dayFebruary twentieth. Do you wish me to understand that you have been atBordighera and San Remo all that time?"

"How did you know when I left London?" Hunterleys demanded. 

Mr. Draconmeyer pursed his lips. 

"I heard of your departure from London entirely by accident, " he said. "Your wife, for some reason or other, declined to discuss yourmovements. I imagine that she was acting in accordance with yourwishes. "

"I see, " Hunterleys observed coolly. "And your present anxiety is toknow where I spent the intervening time, and why I am here in MonteCarlo? Frankly, Mr. Draconmeyer, I look upon this close interest in mymovements as an impertinence. My travels have been of no importance, butthey concern myself only. I have no confidence to offer respecting them. If I had, it would not be to you that I should unburden myself. "

"You suspect me, then? You doubt my integrity?"

"Not at all, " Hunterleys assured his questioner. "For anything I know tothe contrary, you are, outside the world of finance, one of the dullestand most harmless men existing. My own position is simply as I explainedit during the first few sentences we exchanged. I do not like you, Idetest my wife's name being associated with yours, and for that reason, the less I see of you the better I am pleased. "

Mr. Draconmeyer nodded thoughtfully. He was, to all appearance, studyingthe pattern of the carpet. For once in his life he was genuinelypuzzled. Was this man by his side merely a jealous husband, or had heany idea of the greater game which was being played around them? Had he, by any chance, arrived to take part in it? Was it wise, in any case, topursue the subject further? Yet if he abandoned it at this juncture, itmust be with a sense of failure, and failure was a thing to which he wasnot accustomed. 

"Your frankness, " he admitted grimly, "is almost exhilarating. Ourpersonal relations being so clearly defined, I am inclined to go furthereven than I had intended. We cannot now possibly misunderstand oneanother. Supposing I were to tell you that your arrival in Monte Carlo, accidental though it may be, is in a sense opportune; that you may, in ashort time meet here one or two politicians, friends of mine, with whoman interchange of views might be agreeable? Supposing I were to offer myservices as an intermediary? You would like to bring about betterrelations with my country, would you not, Sir Henry? You are admittedlya statesman and an influential man in your Party. I am only a banker, itis true, but I have been taken into the confidence of those who directthe destinies of my country. "

Hunterleys' face reflected none of the other's earnestness. He seemed, indeed, a little bored, and he answered almost irritably. 

"I am much obliged to you, " he said, "but Monte Carlo seems scarcely theplace to me for political discussions, added to which I have no officialposition. I could not receive or exchange confidences. While my Party isout of power, there is nothing left for us but to mark time. I dare sayyou mean well, Mr. Draconmeyer, " he added, rising to his feet, "but I amhere to forget politics altogether, if I can. If you will excuse me, Ithink I will look in at the baccarat rooms. "

He was on the point of departure when through the open doorway whichcommunicated with the baccarat rooms beyond came a man of sufficientlyarresting personality, a man remarkably fat, with close-cropped greyhair which stuck up like bristles all over his head; a huge, clean-shaven face which seemed concentrated at that moment in onetremendous smile of overwhelming good-humour. He held by the hand alittle French girl, dark, small, looking almost like a marionette in herslim tailor-made costume. He recognised Draconmeyer with enthusiasm. 

"My friend Draconmeyer, " he exclaimed, in stentorian tones, "baccarat isthe greatest game in the world. I have won--I, who know nothing aboutit, have won a hundred louis. It is amazing! There is no place like thisin the world. We are here to drink a bottle of wine together, mademoiselle and I, mademoiselle who was at once my instructress and mymascot. Afterwards we go to the jeweler's. Why not? A fair division ofthe spoils--fifty louis for myself, fifty louis for a bracelet formademoiselle. And then--"

He broke off suddenly. His gesture was almost dramatic. 

"I am forgotten!" he cried, holding out his hand toHunterleys, --"forgotten already! Sir Henry, there are many who forget meas a humble Minister of my master, but there are few who forget mephysically. I am Selingman. We met in Berlin, six years ago. You camewith your great Foreign Secretary. "

"I remember you perfectly, " Hunterleys assured him, as he submitted tothe newcomer's vigorous handshake. "We shall meet again, I trust. "

Selingman thrust his arm through Hunterleys' as though to prevent hisdeparture. 

"You shall not run away!" he declared. "I introduce both of you--Mr. Draconmeyer, the great Anglo-German banker; Sir Henry Hunterleys, theEnglish politician--to Mademoiselle Estelle Nipon, of the Opera House. Now we all know one another. We shall be good friends. We will sharethat bottle of champagne. "

"One bottle between four!" mademoiselle laughed, poutingly. "And I amparched! I have taught monsieur baccarat. I am exhausted. "

"A magnum!" Selingman ordered in a voice of thunder, shaking his fist atthe startled waiter. "We seat ourselves here at the round table. Mademoiselle, we will drink champagne together until the eyes of all ofus sparkle as yours do. We will drink champagne until we do not believethat there is such a thing as losing at games or in life. We will drinkchampagne until we all four believe that we have been brought uptogether, that we are bosom friends of a lifetime. See, this is how wewill place ourselves. Mademoiselle, if the others make love to you, takeno notice. It is I who have put fifty louis in one pocket for thatbracelet. Do not trust Sir Henry there; he has a reputation. "

As usual, the overpowering Selingman had his way. Neither Draconmeyernor Hunterleys attempted to escape. They took their places at the table. They drank champagne and they listened to Selingman. All the time hetalked, save when mademoiselle interrupted him. Seated upon a chairwhich seemed absurdly inadequate, his great stomach with its vastexpanse of white waistcoat in full view, his short legs doubled upbeneath him, he beamed upon them all with a smile which never failed. 

"It is a wonderful place, " he declared, as he lifted his glass for thefifth time. "We will drink to it, this Monte Carlo. It is here that theycome from all quarters of the world--the ladies who charm away ourhearts, " he added, bowing to mademoiselle, "the financiers whose wordcan shake the money-markets of the world, and the politicians whounbend, perhaps, just a little in the sunshine here, however cold andinflexible they may be under their own austere skies. For the last time, then--to Monte Carlo! To Monte Carlo, dear mademoiselle!--messieurs!"

[Illustration: "For the last time, then--to Monte Carlo!"]

They drank the toast and a few minutes later Hunterleys slipped away. The two men looked after him. The smile seemed gradually to leaveSelingman's lips, his face was large and impressive. 

"Run and fetch your cloak, dear, " he said to the girl. 

She obeyed at once. Selingman leaned across the table towards hiscompanion. 

"What does Hunterleys do here?" he asked. 

Draconmeyer shook his head. 

"Who knows?" he answered. "Perhaps he has come to look after his wife. He has been to Bordighera and San Remo. "

"Is that all he told you of his movements?"

"That is all, " Draconmeyer admitted. "He was suspicious. I made noprogress. "

"Bordighera and San Remo!" Selingman muttered under his breath. "For aday, perhaps, or two. "

"What do you know about him?" Draconmeyer asked, his eyes suddenlybright beneath his spectacles. "I have been suspicious ever since I methim, an hour ago. He left England on December first. "

"It is true, " Selingman assented. "He crossed to Paris, and--mark thecunning of it--he returned to England. That same night he travelled toGermany. We lost him in Vienna and found him again in Sofia. What doesit mean, I wonder? What does it mean?"

"I have been talking to him for twenty minutes in here before you came, "Draconmeyer said. "I tried to gain his confidence. He told me nothing. He never even mentioned that journey of his. "

Selingman was sitting drumming upon the table with his broad fingertips. 

"Sofia!" he murmured. "And now--here! Draconmeyer, there is work beforeus. I know men, I tell you. I know Hunterleys. I watched him, I listenedto him in Berlin six years ago. He was with his master then but he hadnothing to learn from him. He is of the stuff diplomats are fashionedof. He has it in his blood. There is work before us, Draconmeyer. "

"If monsieur is ready!" mademoiselle interposed, a little petulantly, letting the tip of her boa play for a moment on his cheek. 

Selingman finished his wine and rose to his feet. Once more the smileencompassed his face. Of what account, after all, were the wanderings ofthis melancholy Englishman! There was mademoiselle's bracelet to bebought, and perhaps a few flowers. Selingman pulled down his waistcoatand accepted his grey Homburg hat from the vestiaire. He heldmademoiselle's fingers as they descended the stairs. He looked like aschool-boy of enormous proportions on his way to a feast. 

"We drank to Monte Carlo in champagne, " he declared, as they turned onto the terrace and descended the stone steps, "but, dear Estelle, wedrink to it from our hearts with every breath we draw of this wonderfulair, every time our feet touch the buoyant ground. Believe me, littleone, the other things are of no account. The true philosophy of life andliving is here in Monte Carlo. You and I will solve it. "

CHAPTER III

A WARNING

Hunterleys dined alone at a small round table, set in a remote corner ofthe great restaurant attached to the Hotel de Paris. The scene aroundhim was full of colour and interest. A scarlet-coated band madewonderful music. The toilettes of the women who kept passing backwardsand forwards, on their way to the various tables, were marvellous; intheir way unique. The lights and flowers of the room, its appointmentsand adornments, all represented the last word in luxury. Everywhere wascolour, everywhere an almost strained attempt to impress upon thepasserby the fact that this was no ordinary holiday resort but the giantpleasure-ground of all in the world who had money to throw away and thecapacity for enjoyment. Only once a more somber note seemed struck whenMrs. Draconmeyer, leaning on her husband's arm and accompanied by anurse and Lady Hunterleys, passed to their table. Hunterleys' eyesfollowed the little party until they had reached their destination andtaken their places. His wife was wearing black and she had discarded thepearls which had hung around her neck during the afternoon. She woreonly a collar of diamonds, his gift. Her hair was far less elaboratelycoiffured and her toilette less magnificent than the toilettes of thewomen by whom she was surrounded. Yet as he looked from his corneracross the room at her, Hunterleys realised as he had realised instantlytwelve years ago when he had first met her, that she was incomparable. There was no other woman in the whole of that great restaurant with herair of quiet elegance; no other woman so faultless in the smallerdetails of her toilette and person. Hunterleys watched withexpressionless face but with anger growing in his heart, as he sawDraconmeyer bending towards her, accepting her suggestions about thedinner, laughing when she laughed, watching almost humbly for herpleasure or displeasure. It was a cursed mischance which had brought himto Monte Carlo!

Hunterleys hurried over his dinner, and without even going to his roomfor a hat or coat, walked across the square in the soft twilight of anunusually warm February evening and took a table outside the Café deParis, where he ordered coffee. Around him was a far more cosmopolitancrowd, increasing every moment in volume. Every language was beingspoken, mostly German. As a rule, such a gathering of people was, in itsway, interesting to Hunterleys. To-night his thoughts were truant. Heforgot his strenuous life of the last three months, the dangers anddiscomforts through which he had passed, the curious sequence of eventswhich had brought him, full of anticipation, nerved for a crisis, toMonte Carlo of all places in the world. He forgot that he was in themidst of great events, himself likely to take a hand in them. Histhoughts took, rarely enough for him, a purely personal and sentimentalturn. He thought of the earliest days of his marriage, when he and hiswife had wandered about the gardens of his old home in Wiltshire onspring evenings such as these, and had talked sometimes lightly, sometimes seriously, of the future. Almost as he sat there in the midstof that noisy crowd, he could catch the faint perfume of hyacinths fromthe borders along which they had passed and the trimly-cut flower-bedswhich fringed the deep green lawn. Almost he could hear the chiming ofthe old stable clock, the clear note of a thrush singing. A puff of windbrought them a waft of fainter odour from the wild violets whichcarpeted the woods. Then the darkness crept around them, a star cameout. Hand in hand they turned towards the house and into the library, where a wood fire was burning on the grate. His thoughts travelled on. Awave of tenderness had assailed him. Then he was awakened by thewaiter's voice at his elbow. 

"Le café, monsieur. "

He sat up in his chair. His dreaming moments were few and this one hadpassed. He set his heel upon that tide of weakening memories, sipped hiscoffee and looked out upon the crowd. Three or four times he glanced athis watch impatiently. Precisely at nine o'clock, a man moved fromsomewhere in the throng behind and took the vacant chair by his side. 

"If one could trouble monsieur for a match!"

Hunterleys turned towards the newcomer as he handed his matchbox. He wasa young man of medium height, with sandy complexion, a little freckled, and with a straggling fair moustache. He had keen grey eyes and thefaintest trace of a Scotch accent. He edged his chair a little nearer toHunterleys. 

"Much obliged, " he said. "Wonderful evening, isn't it?"

Hunterleys nodded. 

"Have you anything to tell me, David?" he asked. 

"We are right in the thick of it, " the other replied, his tone a littlelowered. "There is more to tell than I like. "

"Shall we stroll along the Terrace?" Hunterleys suggested. 

"Don't move from your seat, " the young man enjoined. "You are watchedhere, and so am I, in a way, although it's more my news they want tocensor than anything personal. This crowd of Germans around us, withouta single vacant chair, is the best barrier we can have. Listen. Selingman is here. "

"I saw him this afternoon at the Sporting Club, " Hunterleys murmured. 

"Douaille will be here the day after to-morrow, if he has not alreadyarrived, " the newcomer continued. "It was given out in Paris that he wasgoing down to Marseilles and from there to Toulon, to spend three dayswith the fleet. They sent a paragraph into our office there. As a matterof fact, he's coming straight on here. I can't learn how, exactly, but Ifancy by motor-car. "

"You're sure that Douaille is coming himself?" Hunterleys askedanxiously. 

"Absolutely! His wife and family have been bustled down to Mentone, soas to afford a pretext for his presence here if the papers get hold ofit. I have found out for certain that they came at a moment's notice andwere not expecting to leave home at all. Douaille will have full powers, and the conference will take place at the Villa Mimosa. That will be theheadquarters of the whole thing. .. . Look out, Sir Henry. They've gottheir eyes on us. The little fellow in brown, close behind, is hand inglove with the police. They tried to get me into a row last night. It'sonly my journalism they suspect, but they'd shove me over the frontierat the least excuse. They're certain to try something of the sort withyou, if they get any idea that we are on the scent. Sit tight, sir, andwatch. I'm off. You know where to find me. "

The young man raised his hat and left Hunterleys with the politefarewell of a stranger. His seat was almost immediately seized by asmall man dressed in brown, a man with a black imperial and moustachecurled upwards. As Hunterleys glanced towards him, he raised his Hamburghat politely and smiled. 

"Monsieur's friend has departed?" he enquired. "This seat isdisengaged?"

"As you see, " Hunterleys replied. 

The little man smiled his thanks, seated himself with a sigh of contentand ordered coffee from a passing waiter. 

"Monsieur is doubtless a stranger to Monte Carlo?"

"It is my second visit only, " Hunterleys admitted. 

"For myself I am an habitué, " the little man continued, "I might almostsay a resident. Therefore, all faces soon become familiar to me. Directly I saw monsieur, I knew that he was not a frequenter. "

Hunterleys turned a little in his chair and surveyed his neighbourcuriously. The man was neatly dressed and he spoke English with scarcelyany accent. His shoulders and upturned moustache gave him a militaryappearance. 

"There is nothing I envy any one so much in life, " he proceeded, "ascoming to Monte Carlo for the first or second time. There is so much toknow, to see, to understand. "

Hunterleys made no effort to discourage his companion's obvious attemptsto be friendly. The latter talked with spirit for some time. 

"If it would not be regarded as a liberty, " he said at last, asHunterleys rose to move off, "may I be permitted to present myself? Myname is Hugot? I am half English, half French. Years ago my health brokedown and I accepted a position in a bank here. Since then I have come into money. If I have a hobby in life, it is to show my beloved MonteCarlo to strangers. If monsieur would do me the honour to spare me a fewhours to-night, later on, I would endeavour to see that he was amused. "

Hunterleys shook his head. He remained, however, perfectly courteous. Hehad a conviction that this was the man who had been watching his wife. 

"You are very kind, sir, " he replied. "I am here only for a few days andfor the benefit of my health. I dare not risk late hours. We shall meetagain, I trust. "

He strolled off and as he hesitated upon the steps of the Casino heglanced across towards the Hotel de Paris. At that moment a woman cameout, a light cloak over her evening gown. She was followed by anattendant. Hunterleys recognised his wife and watched them with acurious little thrill. They turned towards the Terrace. Very slowly he, too, moved in the same direction. They passed through the gardens of theHotel de Paris, and Hunterleys, keeping to the left, met them upon theTerrace as they emerged. As they came near he accosted them. 

"Violet, " he began. 

She started. 

"I beg your pardon, " she said. "I did not recognise you. "

"Haven't you been told, " he asked stiffly, "that the Terrace is unsafefor women after twilight?"

"Very often, " she assented, with that little smile at the corners of herlips which once he had found so charming and which now half maddenedhim. "Unfortunately, I have a propensity for doing things which aredangerous. Besides, I have my maid. "

"Another woman is no protection, " he declared. 

"Susanne can shriek, " Lady Hunterleys assured him. "She has wonderfullungs and she loves to use them. She would shriek at the leastprovocation. "

"And meanwhile, " Hunterleys observed drily, "while she is indulging inher vocal exercises, things happen. If you wish to promenade here, permit me to be your escort. "

She hesitated for a moment, frowning. Then she continued her walk. 

"You are very kind, " she assented. "Perhaps you are like me, though, andfeel the restfulness of a quiet place after these throngs and throngs ofpeople. "

They passed slowly down the broad promenade, deserted now save for oneor two loungers like themselves, and a few other furtive, hurryingfigures. In front of them stretched an arc of glittering lights--thewonderful Bay of Mentone, with Bordighera on the distant sea-board;higher up, the twinkling lights from the villas built on the rockyhills. And at their feet the sea, calm, deep, blue, lapping the narrowbelt of hard sand, scintillating with the reflection of a thousandlights; on the horizon a blood-red moon, only half emerged from the sea. 

"Since we have met, Henry, " Lady Hunterleys said at last, "there issomething which I should like to say to you. "

"Certainly!"

She glanced behind. Susanne had fallen discreetly into the rear. She wasa new importation and she had no idea as to the identity of the tall, severe-looking Englishman who walked by her mistress's side. 

"There is something going on in Monte Carlo, " Lady Hunterleys went on, "which I cannot understand. Mr. Draconmeyer knows about it, I believe, although he is not personally concerned in it. But he will tell menothing. I only know that for some reason or other your presence hereseems to be an annoyance to certain people. Why it should be I don'tknow, but I want to ask you about it. Will you tell me the truth? Areyou sure that you did not come here to spy upon me?"

"I certainly did not, " Hunterleys answered firmly. "I had no idea thatyou were near the place. If I had--"

She turned her head. The smile was there once more and a queer, softlight in her eyes. 

"If you had?" she murmured. 

"My visit here, under the present circumstances, would have been moredistasteful than it is, " Hunterleys replied stiffly. 

She bit her lip and turned away. When she resumed the conversation, hertone was completely changed. 

"I speak to you now, " she said, "in your own interests. Mr. Draconmeyeris, of course, not personally connected with this affair, whatever itmay be, but he is a wonderful man and he hears many things. To-night, before dinner, he gave me a few words of warning. He did not tell me topass them on to you but I feel sure that he hoped I would. You would notlisten to them from him because you do not like him. I am afraid thatyou will take very little more heed of what I say, but at least you willbelieve that I speak in your own interests. Mr. Draconmeyer believesthat your presence here is misunderstood. A person whom he describes asbeing utterly without principle and of great power is incensed by it. Tospeak plainly, you are in danger. "

"I am flattered, " Hunterleys remarked, "by this interest on my behalf. "

She turned her head and looked at him. His face, in this cold lightbefore the moon came up, was almost like the face of some marble statue, lifeless, set, of almost stonelike severity. She knew the look so welland she sighed. 

"You need not be, " she replied bitterly. "Mine is merely the ordinaryfeeling of one human creature for another. In a sense it seems absurd, Isuppose, to speak to you as I am doing. Yet I do know that this placewhich looks so beautiful has strange undercurrents. People pass awayhere in the most orthodox fashion in the world, outwardly, but theirreal ending is often never known at all. Everything is possible here, and Mr. Draconmeyer honestly believes that you are in danger. "

They had reached the end of the Terrace and they turned back. 

"I thank you very much, Violet, " Hunterleys said earnestly. "In return, may I say something to you? If there is any danger threatening me orthose interests which I guard, the man whom you have chosen to make yourintimate friend is more deeply concerned in it than you think. I toldyou once before that Draconmeyer was something more than the greatbanker, the king of commerce, as he calls himself. He is ambitiousbeyond your imaginings, a schemer in ways you know nothing of, and hisresidence in London during the last fifteen years has been the worstthing that ever happened for England. To me it is a bitter thing thatyou should have ignored my warning and accepted his friendship--"

"It is not Mr. Draconmeyer who is my friend, Henry, " she interrupted. "You continually ignore that fact. It is Mrs. Draconmeyer whom I cannotdesert. I knew her long before I did her husband. We were at schooltogether, and there was a time before her last illness when we wereinseparable. "

"That may have been so at first, " Hunterleys agreed, "but how aboutsince then? You cannot deny, Violet, that this man Draconmeyer has insome way impressed or fascinated you. You admire him. You find greatpleasure in his society. Isn't that the truth, now, honestly?"

Her face was a little troubled. 

"I do certainly find pleasure in his society, " she admitted. "I cannotconceive any one who would not. He is a brilliant, a wonderful musician, a delightful talker, a generous host and companion. He has treated mealways with the most scrupulous regard, and I feel that I am entirelyreasonable in resenting your mistrust of him. "

"You do resent it still, then?"

"I do, " she asserted emphatically. 

"And if I told you, " Hunterleys went on, "that the man was in love withyou. What then?"

"I should say that you were a fool!"

Hunterleys shrugged his shoulders. 

"There is no more to be said, " he declared, "only, for a clever woman, Violet, you are sometimes woefully or wilfully blind. I tell you that Iknow the type. Sooner or later--before very long, I should think--youwill have the usual scene. I warn you of it now. If you are wise, youwill go back to England. "

"Absurd!" she scoffed. "Why, we have only just come! I want to win somemoney--not that your allowance isn't liberal enough, " she added hastily, "but there is a fascination in winning, you know. And besides, I couldnot possibly desert Mrs. Draconmeyer. She would not have come at all ifI had not joined them. "

"You are the mistress of your own ways, " Hunterleys said. "According tomy promise, I shall attempt to exercise no authority over you in anyway, but I tell you that Draconmeyer is my enemy, and the enemy of allthe things I represent, and I tell you, too, that he is in love withyou. When you realise that these things are firmly established in mybrain, you can perhaps understand how thoroughly distasteful I find yourassociation with him here. It is all very well to talk about Mrs. Draconmeyer, but she goes nowhere. The consequence is that he is yourescort on every occasion. I am quite aware that a great many people insociety accept him. I personally am not disposed to. I look upon him asan unfit companion for my wife and I resent your appearance with him inpublic. "

"We will discuss this subject no further, " she decided. "From the momentof our first disagreement, it has been your object to break off myfriendship with the Draconmeyers. Until I have something more than wordsto go by, I shall continue to give him my confidence. "

They crossed the stone flags in front of the Opera together, and turnedup towards the Rooms. 

"I think, perhaps, then, " he said, "that we may consider the subjectclosed. Only, " he added, "you will forgive me if I still--"

He hesitated. She turned her head quickly. Her eyes sought his butunfortunately he was looking straight ahead and seeing gloomy things. Ifhe had happened to turn at that moment, he might have concluded hisspeech differently. 

"If I still exhibit some interest in your doings. "

"I shall always think it most kind of you, " she replied, her facesuddenly hardening. "Have I not done my best to reciprocate? I have evenpassed on to you a word of warning, which I think you are very unwise toignore. "

They were outside the hotel. Hunterleys paused. 

"I have nothing to fear from the mysterious source you have spoken of, "he assured her. "The only enemy I have in Monte Carlo is Draconmeyerhimself. "

"Enemy!" she repeated scornfully. "Mr. Draconmeyer is much too wrappedup in his finance, and too big a man, in his way, to have enemies. Oh, Henry, if only you could get rid of a few of your prejudices, how muchmore civilised a human being you would be!"

He raised his hat. His expression was a little grim. 

"The man without prejudices, my dear Violet, " he retorted, "is a manwithout instincts. .. . I wish you luck. "

She ran lightly up the steps and waved her hand. He watched her passthrough the doors into the hotel. 

CHAPTER IV

ENTER THE AMERICAN

Lady Weybourne was lunching on the terrace of Ciro's restaurant with herbrother. She was small, dark, vivacious. Her friends, of whom she hadthousands, all called her Flossie, and she was probably the most popularAmerican woman who had ever married into the English peerage. Herbrother, Richard Lane, on the other hand, was tall, verybroad-shouldered, with a strong, clean-shaven face, inclined bydisposition to be taciturn. On this particular morning he had less eventhan usual to say, and although Lady Weybourne, who was a greatchatterbox, was content as a rule to do most of the talking for herself, his inattention became at last a little too obvious. He glanced upeagerly as every newcomer appeared, and his answers to his sister'scriticisms were sometimes almost at random. 

"Dicky, I'm not at all sure that I'm liking you this morning, " sheobserved finally, looking across at him with a critically questioningsmile. "A certain amount of non-responsiveness to my advances I can putup with--from a brother--but this morning you are positivelyinattentive. Tell me your troubles at once. Has Harris been botheringyou, or did you lose a lot of money last night?"

Considering that the young man's income was derived from an exceedinglywell-invested capital of nine million dollars, and that Harris was theall too perfect captain of his yacht lying then in the harbour, whoseworst complaint was that he had never enough work to do, LadyWeybourne's enquiries might have been considered as merely tentative. Richard shook his head a little gloomily. 

"Those things aren't likely to trouble me, " he remarked. "Harris is allright, and I've promised him we'll make up a little party and go over toCannes in a day or two. "

"What a ripping idea!" Lady Weybourne declared, breaking up her thintoast between her fingers. "I'd love it, and so would Harry. We couldeasily get together a delightful party. The Pelhams are here and simplydying for a change, and there's Captain Gardner and Frank Clowes, andlots of nice girls. Couldn't we fix a date, Dick?"

"Not just yet, " her brother replied. 

"And why not?"

"I am waiting, " he told her, "until I can ask the girl I want to go. "

"And why can't you now?" she demanded, with upraised eyebrows. "I'll behostess and chaperone all in one. "

"I can't ask her because I don't know her yet, " the young man explaineddoggedly. 

Lady Weybourne leaned back in her chair and laughed. 

"So that's it!" she exclaimed. "Now I know why you're sitting there likean owl this morning! In love with a fair unknown, are you, Dick? Becareful. Monte Carlo is full of young ladies whom it would be just aswell to know a little about before you thought of taking them yachting. "

"This one isn't that sort, " the young man said. 

"How do you know that?" she asked, leaning across the table, her headresting on her clasped hands. 

He looked at her almost contemptuously. 

"How do I know!" he repeated. "There are just one or two things thathappen in this world which a man can be utterly and entirely sure of. She is one of them. Say, Flossie, " he added, the enthusiasm creeping atlast into his tone, "you never saw any one quite like her in all yourlife!"

"Do I know her, I wonder?" Lady Weybourne enquired. 

"That's just what I've asked you here to find out, " her brother repliedingenuously. "I heard her tell the man she was with this morning--herfather, I believe--about an hour ago, that she would be at Ciro's athalf-past one. It's twenty minutes to two now. "

Lady Weybourne laughed heartily. 

"So that's why you dragged me out of bed and made me come to lunch withyou! Dick, what a fraud you are! I was thinking what a dear, affectionate brother you were, and all the time you were just making useof me. "

"Sorry, " the young man said briskly, "but, after all, we needn't standon ceremony, need we? I've always been your pal; gave you a leg up withthe old man, you know, when he wasn't keen on the British alliance. "

She nodded. 

"Oh, I'll do what I can for you, " she promised. "If she is any one inparticular I expect I shall know her. What's happening, Dick?"

The young man's face was almost transformed. His eyes were bright andvery fixed. His lips had come together in a firm, straight line, asthough he were renewing some promise to himself. Lady Weybourne followedthe direction of his gaze. A man and a girl had reached the entrance tothe restaurant and were looking around them as though to select a table. The chief maître d'hôtel had hastened out to receive them. They were, without doubt, people of importance. The man was of medium height, withiron-grey hair and moustache, and a small imperial. He wore lightclothes of perfect cut; patent shoes with white linen gaiters; a blacktie fastened with a pin of opals. He carried himself with an air whichwas unmistakable and convincing. The girl by his side was beautiful. Shewas simply dressed in a tailor-made gown of white serge. Her black hatwas a miracle of smartness. Her hair was of a very light shade ofgolden-brown, her complexion wonderfully fair. Lady Weybourne glanced ather shoes and gloves, at the bag which she was carrying, and the handleof her parasol. Then she nodded approvingly. 

"You don't know her?" Richard asked, in a disappointed whisper. 

She shook her head. 

"Sorry, " she admitted, "but I don't. They've probably only justarrived. "

With great ceremony the newcomers were conducted to the best table uponthe terrace. The man was evidently an habitué. He had scarcely taken hisseat before, with a very low bow, the sommelier brought him a smallwine-glass filled with what seemed to be vermouth. While he sipped it hesmoked a Russian cigarette and with a gold pencil wrote out the menu ofhis luncheon. In a few minutes the manager himself came hurrying outfrom the restaurant. His salute was almost reverential. When, after afew moments' conversation, he departed, he did so with the air of onetaking leave of royalty. Lady Weybourne, who was an inquisitive littleperson, was puzzled. 

"I don't know who they are, Dick, " she confessed, "but I know the waysof this place well, and I can tell you one thing--they are people ofimportance. You can tell that by the way they are received. Theserestaurant people don't make mistakes. "

"Of course they are people of importance, " the young man declared. "Anyone can see that by a glance at the girl. I am sorry you don't knowthem, " he went on, "but you've got to find out who they are, and prettyquickly, too. Look here, Flossie. I am a bit useful to you now and then, aren't I?"

"Without you, my dear Dick, " she murmured, "I should never be able tomanage those awful trustees. You are invaluable, a perfect jewel of abrother. "

"Well, I'll give you that little electric coupé you were so keen on lasttime we were in London, if you'll get me an introduction to that girlwithin twenty-four hours. "

Lady Weybourne gasped. 

"What a whirlwind!" she exclaimed. "Dicky, are you, by any chance, inearnest?"

"In earnest for the first time in my life, " he assured her. "Somethinghas got hold of me which I'm not going to part with. "

She considered him reflectively. He was twenty-seven years of age, andnotwithstanding the boundless opportunities of his youth and greatwealth he had so far shown an almost singular indifference to the wholeof the opposite sex, from the fascinating chorus girls of London and NewYork to the no less enterprising young women of his own order. As shesat there studying his features, she felt a sensation almost of awe. There was something entirely different, something stronger in his face. She thought for a moment of their father as she had known him in herchildhood, the founder of their fortunes, a man who had risen from amoderate position to immense wealth through sheer force of will, ofpertinacity. For the first time she saw the same look upon her brother'sface. 

"Well, " she sighed, "I shall do my best to earn it. I only hope, Dick, that she is--"

"She is what?" he demanded, looking at her steadfastly. 

"Oh! not engaged or anything, I mean, " Lady Weybourne explained hastily. "I must admit, Dick, although I don't suppose any sister is particularlykeen upon her brother's young women, that I think you've shown excellenttaste. She is absolutely the best style of any one I've seen in MonteCarlo. "

"How are you going to manage that introduction?" he asked bluntly. "Haveyou made any plans?"

"I don't suppose it will be difficult, " she assured him, lighting acigarette and shaking her head at the tray of liqueurs which thesommelier was offering. "Get me some cream for my coffee, Dick. Now I'lltell you, " she continued, as the waiter disappeared. "You will have tocall that under-maître d'hôtel. You had better give him a substantialtip and ask him quietly for their names. Then I'll see about the rest. "

"That seems sensible enough, " he admitted. 

"And look here, Dick, " she went on, "I know how impetuous you are. Don'tdo anything foolish. Remember this isn't an ordinary adventure. If yougo rushing in upon it you'll come to grief. "

"I know, " he answered shortly. "I was fool enough to hang about theflower shops and that milliner's this morning. I couldn't help it. Idon't know whether she noticed. I believe she did. Once our eyes didmeet, and although I'll swear she never changed her expression, I feltthat the whole world didn't hold so small a creature as I. Here comesCharles. I'll ask him. "

He beckoned to the maître d'hôtel and talked for a moment about theluncheon. Then he ordered a table for the next day, and slipping a louisinto the man's hand, leaned over and whispered in his ear. 

"I want you to tell me the name of the gentleman and young lady who aresitting over there at the corner table?"

The maître d'hôtel glanced covertly in the direction indicated. He didnot at once reply. His face was perplexed, almost troubled. 

"I am very sorry, sir, " he said hesitatingly, "but our orders are verystrict. Monsieur Ciro does not like anything in the way of gossip aboutour clients, and the gentleman is a very honoured patron. The young ladyis his daughter. "

"Quite right, " the young man agreed bluntly. "This isn't an ordinarycase, Charles. You go over to the desk there, write me down the name andbring it, and there's a hundred franc note waiting here for you. No needfor the name to pass your lips. "

The man bowed and retreated. In a few minutes he came back again andlaid a small card upon the table. 

"Monsieur will pardon my reminding him, " he begged earnestly, "but if hewill be so good as to never mention this little matter--"

Richard nodded and waved him away. 

"Sure!" he promised. 

He drew the card towards him and looked at it in a puzzled manner. Thenhe passed it to his sister. Her expression, too, was blank. 

"Who in the name of mischief, " he exclaimed softly, "is Mr. Grex!"

CHAPTER V

"WHO IS MR. GREX?"

Lady Weybourne insisted, after a reasonable amount of time spent overtheir coffee, that her brother should pay the bill and leave therestaurant. They walked slowly across the square. 

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked. 

"There is only one thing to be done, " she replied. "I shall speak toevery one I meet this afternoon--I shall be, in fact, most sociable--andsooner or later in our conversation I shall ask every one if they knowMr. Grex and his daughter. When I arrive at some one who does, that willbe the first step, won't it?"

"I wonder whether we shall see some one soon!" he grumbled, lookingaround. "Where are all the people to-day!"

She laughed softly. 

"Just a little impetuous, aren't you?"

"I should say so, " he admitted. "I'd like to be introduced to her beforefour o'clock, propose to her this evening, and--and--"

"And what?"

"Never mind, " he concluded, marching on with his head turned towards theclouds. "Let's go and sit down upon the Terrace and talk about her. "

"But, my dear Dicky, " his sister protested, "I don't want to sit uponthe Terrace. I am going to my dressmaker's across the way there, andafterwards to Lucie's to try on some hats. Then I am going back to thehotel for an hour's rest and to prink, and afterwards into the SportingClub at four o'clock. That's my programme. I shall be doing what I canthe whole of the time. I shall make discreet enquiries of my dressmaker, who knows everybody, and I sha'n't let a single acquaintance go by. Youwill have to amuse yourself till four o'clock, at any rate. There's SirHenry Hunterleys over there, having coffee. Go and talk to him. He mayput you out of your misery. Thanks ever so much for my luncheon, and aurevoir!"

She turned away with a little nod. Her brother, after a moment'shesitation, approached the table where Hunterleys was sitting alone. 

"How do you do, Sir Henry?"

Hunterleys returned his greeting, a little blankly at first. Then heremembered the young man and held out his hand. 

"Of course! You are Richard Lane, aren't you? Sit down and have somecoffee. What are you doing here?"

"I've got a little boat in the harbour, " Richard replied, as he drew upa chair. "I've been at Algiers for a time with some friends, and I'vebrought them on here. Just been lunching with my sister. Are you alone?"

Hunterleys hesitated. 

"Yes, I am alone. "

"Wonderful place, " the young man went on. "Wonderful crowd of peoplehere, too. I suppose you know everybody?" he added, warming up as heapproached his subject. 

"On the contrary, " Hunterleys answered, "I am almost a stranger here. Ihave been staying further down the coast. "

"Happen to know any one of the name of Grex?" Lane asked, with elaboratecarelessness. 

Hunterleys made no immediate reply. He seemed to be considering thename. 

"Grex, " he repeated, knocking the ash from his cigarette. "Rather anuncommon name, isn't it? Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I've seen an elderly man and a young lady about once or twice, "Lane explained. "Very interesting-looking people. Some one told me thattheir name was Grex. "

"There is a person living under that name, I think, " Hunterleys said, "who has taken the Villa Mimosa for the season. "

"Do you know him personally?" the young man asked eagerly. 

"Personally? No, I can scarcely say that I do. "

Richard Lane sighed. It was disappointment number one. For some reasonor other, too, Hunterleys seemed disposed to change the conversation. 

"The young lady who is always with him, " Richard persisted, "would thatbe his daughter?"

Hunterleys turned a little in his seat and surveyed his questioner. Hehad met Lane once or twice and rather liked him. 

"Look here, young fellow, " he said, good humouredly, "let me ask you aquestion for a change. What is the nature of these enquiries of yours?"

Lane hesitated. Something in Hunterleys' face and manner induced him totell the truth. 

"I have fallen head over heels in love with the young lady, " heconfessed. "Don't think I am a confounded jackass. I am not in the habitof doing such things. I'm twenty-seven and I have never gone out of myway to meet a girl yet. This is something--different. I want to find outabout them and get an introduction. "

Hunterleys shook his head regretfully. 

"I am afraid, " he said, "that I can be of no use to you--no practicaluse, that is. I can only give you one little piece of advice. "

"Well, what is it?" Richard asked eagerly. 

"If you are in earnest, " Hunterleys continued, "and I will do you thecredit to believe that you are, you had better pack up your things, return to your yacht and take a cruise somewhere. "

"Take a cruise somewhere!"

Hunterleys nodded. 

"Get out of Monte Carlo as quickly as you can, and, above all, don'tthink anything more of that young lady. Get the idea out of your head asquickly as you can. "

The young man was sitting upright in his chair. His manner was halfminatory. 

"Say, what do you mean by this?" he demanded. 

"Exactly what I said just now, " Hunterleys rejoined. "If you are inearnest, and I have no doubt that you are, I should clear out. "

"What is it you are trying to make me understand?" Richard askedbluntly. 

"That you have about as much chance with that young lady, " Hunterleysassured him, "as with that very graceful statue in the square yonder. "

Richard sat for a moment with knitted brows. 

"Then you know who she is, any way?"

"Whether I do or whether I do not, " the older man said gravely, "so faras I am concerned, the subject is exhausted. I have given you the bestadvice you ever had in your life. It's up to you to follow it. "

Richard looked at him blankly. 

"Well, you've got me puzzled, " he confessed. 

Hunterleys rose to his feet, and, summoning a waiter, paid his bill. 

"You'll excuse me, won't you?" he begged. "I have an appointment in afew minutes. If you are wise, young man, " he added, patting him on theshoulder as he turned to go, "you will take my advice. "

Left to himself, Richard Lane strolled around the place towards theTerrace. He had no fancy for the Rooms and he found a seat as farremoved as possible from the Tir du Pigeons. He sat there with foldedarms, looking out across the sun-dappled sea. His matter-of-fact brainoffered him but one explanation as to the meaning of Hunterleys' words, and against that explanation his whole being was in passionate revolt. He represented a type of young man who possesses morals by reason of acertain unsuspected idealism, mingled with perfect physical sanity. Itseemed to him, as he sat there, that he had been waiting for this dayfor years. The old nights in New York and Paris and London floatedbefore his memory. He pushed them on one side with a shiver, and yetwith a curious feeling of exultation. He recalled a certain sensationwhich had been drawn through his life like a thin golden thread, asensation which had a habit of especially asserting itself in the midstof these youthful orgies, a curious sense of waiting for something tohappen, a sensation which had been responsible very often for what hisfriends had looked upon as eccentricity. He knew now that this thing hadarrived, and everything else in life seemed to pale by the side of it. Hunterleys' words had thrown him temporarily into a strange turmoil. Solitude for a few moments he had felt to be entirely necessary. Yetdirectly he was alone, directly he was free to listen to hisconvictions, he could have laughed at that first mad surging of hisblood, the fierce, instinctive rebellion against the conclusion to whichHunterleys' words seemed to point. Now that he was alone, he was noteven angry. No one else could possibly understand!

Before long he was once more upon his feet, starting out upon his questwith renewed energy. He had scarcely taken a dozen steps, however, whenhe came face to face with Lady Hunterleys and Mr. Draconmeyer. Quiteoblivious of the fact that they seemed inclined to avoid him, he greetedthem both with unusual warmth. 

"Saw your husband just now, Lady Hunterleys, " he remarked, a littlepuzzled. "I fancied he said he was alone here. "

She smiled. 

"We did not come together, " she explained; "in fact, our meeting wasalmost accidental. Henry had been at Bordighera and San Remo and I cameout with Mr. And Mrs. Draconmeyer. "

The young man nodded and turned towards Draconmeyer, who was standing alittle on one side as though anxious to proceed. 

"Mr. Draconmeyer doesn't remember me, perhaps. I met him at my sister's, Lady Weybourne's, just before Christmas. "

"I remember you perfectly, " Mr. Draconmeyer assured him courteously. "Wehave all been admiring your beautiful yacht in the harbour there. "

"I was thinking of getting up a little cruise before long, " Richardcontinued. "If so, I hope you'll all join us. Flossie is going to behostess, and the Montressors are passengers already. "

They murmured something non-committal. Lady Hunterleys seemed as thoughabout to pass on but Lane blocked the way. 

"I only arrived the other day from Algiers, " he went on, making franticefforts to continue the conversation. "I brought Freddy Montressor andhis sister, and Fothergill. "

"Mr. Montressor has come to the Hotel de Paris, " Lady Hunterleysremarked. "What sort of weather did you have in Algiers?"

"Ripping!" the young man replied absently, entirely oblivious of thefact that they had been driven away by incessant rain. "This place ismuch more fun, though, " he added, with sudden inspiration. "Crowds ofinteresting people. I suppose you know every one?"

Lady Hunterleys shook her head. 

"Indeed I do not. Mr. Draconmeyer here is my guide. He is as good as awalking directory. "

"I wonder if either of you know some people named Grex?" Richard asked, with studious indifference. 

Mr. Draconmeyer for the first time showed some signs of interest. Helooked at their questioner steadfastly. 

"Grex, " he repeated. "A very uncommon name. "

"Very uncommon-looking people, " Richard declared. "The man is elderly, and looks as though he took great care of himself--awfully well turnedout and all that. The daughter is--good-looking. "

Mr. Draconmeyer took off his gold-rimmed spectacles and rubbed them withhis handkerchief. 

"Why do you ask?" he enquired. "Is this just curiosity?"

"Rather more than that, " Richard said boldly. "It's interest. "

Mr. Draconmeyer readjusted his spectacles. 

"Mr. Grex, " he announced, "is a gentleman of great wealth andillustrious birth, who has taken a very magnificent villa and desiresfor a time to lead a life of seclusion. That is as much as I or any oneelse knows. "

"What about the young lady?" Richard persisted. 

"The young lady, " Mr. Draconmeyer answered, "is, as you surmised, hisdaughter. .. . Shall we finish our promenade, Lady Hunterleys?"

Richard stood grudgingly a little on one side. 

"Mr. Draconmeyer, " he said desperately, "do you think there'd be anychance of my getting an introduction to the young lady?"

Mr. Draconmeyer at first smiled and then began to laugh, as thoughsomething in the idea tickled him. He looked at the young man andRichard hated him. 

"Not the slightest in the world, I should think, " he declared. "Goodafternoon!"

Lady Hunterleys joined in her companion's amusement as they continuedtheir promenade. 

"Is the young man in love, do you suppose?" she enquired lightly. 

"If so, " her companion replied, "he has made a somewhat unfortunatechoice. However, it really doesn't matter. Love at his age is nothingmore than a mood. It will pass as all moods pass. "

She turned and looked at him. 

"Do you mean, " she asked incredulously, "that youth is incapable oflove?"

They had paused for a moment, looking out across the bay towards theglittering white front of Bordighera. Mr. Draconmeyer took off his hat. Somehow, without it, in that clear light, one realised, notwithstandinghis spectacles, his grizzled black beard of unfashionable shape, hisover-massive forehead and shaggy eyebrows, that his, too, was the faceof one whose feet were not always upon the earth. 

"Perhaps, " he answered, "it is a matter of degree, yet I am almosttempted to answer your question absolutely. I do not believe that youthcan love, because from the first it misapprehends the meaning of theterm. I believe that the gift of loving comes only to those who havereached the hills. "

She looked at him, a little surprised. Always thoughtful, alwayssympathetic, generally stimulating, it was very seldom that she hadheard him speak with so much real feeling. Suddenly he turned his headfrom the sea. His eyes seemed to challenge hers. 

"Your question, " he continued, "touches upon one of the great tragediesof life. Upon those who are free from their youth there is a great taxlevied. Nature has decreed that they should feel something which theycall love. They marry, and in this small world of ours they give ahostage as heavy as a millstone of their chances of happiness. For it isonly in later life, when a man has knowledge as well as passion, whenunless he is fortunate it is too late, that he can know what love is. "

She moved a little uneasily. She felt that something was coming whichshe desired to avoid, some confidence, something from which she mustescape. The memory of her husband's warning was vividly present withher. She felt the magnetism of her companion's words, his compellinggaze. 

"It is so with me, " he went on, leaning a little towards her, "only inmy case--"

Providence was intervening. Never had the swish of a woman's skirtsounded so sweet to her before. 

"Here's Dolly Montressor, " she interrupted, "coming up to speak to us. "

CHAPTER VI

CAKES AND COUNSELS

The Sporting Club seemed to fill up that afternoon almost as soon as thedoors were opened. At half-past four, people were standing two or threedeep around the roulette tables. Selingman, very warm, and lookingsomewhat annoyed, withdrew himself from the front row of the lowertable, and taking Mr. Grex and Draconmeyer by the arm, led them towardsthe tea-room. 

"I have lost six louis!" he exclaimed, fretfully. "I have had thedevil's own luck. I shall play no more for the present. We will have teatogether. "

They appropriated a round table in a distant corner of the restaurant. 

"History, " Selingman continued, heaping his plate with rich cakes, "hasbeen made before now in strange places. Why not here? We sit here inclose touch with one of the most interesting phases of modern life. Wecan even hear the voice of fate, the click of the little ball as itfinishes its momentous journey and sinks to rest. Why should we, too, not speak of fateful things?"

Mr. Draconmeyer glanced around. 

"For myself, " he muttered, "I must say that I prefer a smaller room anda locked door. "

Selingman demolished a chocolate éclair and shook his head vigorously. 

"The public places for me, " he declared. "Now look around. There is noone, as you will admit, within ear-shot. Very well. What will they say, those who suspect us, if they see us drinking tea and eating many cakestogether? Certainly not that we conspire, that we make mischief here. Onthe other hand, they will say 'There are three great men at play, cometo Monte Carlo to rest from their labours, to throw aside for a time theburden from their shoulders; to flirt, to play, to eat cakes. ' It is agood place to talk, this, and I have something in my mind which must besaid. "

Mr. Grex sipped his pale, lemon-flavoured tea and toyed with hiscigarette-case. He was eating nothing. 

"Assuming you to be a man of sense, my dear Selingman, " he remarked, "Ithink that what you have to say is easily surmised. The Englishman!"

Selingman agreed with ponderous emphasis. 

"We have before us, " he declared, "a task of unusual delicacy. Ourfriend from Paris may be here at any moment. How we shall fare with him, heaven only knows! But there is one thing very certain. At the sight ofHunterleys he will take alarm. He will be like a frightened bird, allruffled feathers. He will never settle down to a serious discussion. Hunterleys knows this. That is why he presents himself without reservein public, why he is surrounded with Secret Service men of his owncountry, all on the _qui vive_ for the coming of Douaille. "

"It appears tolerably certain, " Mr. Draconmeyer said calmly, "that wemust get rid of Hunterleys. "

Mr. Grex looked out of the window for a moment. 

"To some extent, " he observed, "I am a stranger here. I come as a guestto this conference, as our other friend from Paris comes, too. Any smalltask which may arise from the necessities of the situation, devolves, Ithink I may say without unfairness, upon you, my friend. "

Selingman assented gloomily. 

"That is true, " he admitted, "but in Hunterleys we have to do with noordinary man. He does not gamble. To the ordinary attractions of MonteCarlo he is indifferent. He is one of these thin-blooded men withprinciples. Cromwell would have made a lay preacher of him. "

"You find difficulties?" Mr. Grex queried, with slightly upliftedeyebrows. 

"Not difficulties, " Selingman continued quickly. "Or if indeed we docall them difficulties, let us say at once that they are very minorones. Only the thing must be done neatly and without ostentation, forthe sake of our friend who comes. "

"My own position, " Mr. Draconmeyer intervened, "is, in a way, delicate. The unexplained disappearance of Sir Henry Hunterleys might, by somepeople, be connected with the great friendship which exists between mywife and his. "

Mr. Grex polished his horn-rimmed eyeglass. Selingman noddedsympathetically. Neither of them looked at Draconmeyer. FinallySelingman heaved a sigh and brushed the crumbs from his waistcoat. 

"If one were assured, " he murmured thoughtfully, "that Hunterleys'presence here had a real significance--"

Draconmeyer pushed his chair forward and leaned across the table. Theheads of the three men were close together. His tone was stealthilylowered. 

"Let me tell you something, my friend Selingman, which I think shouldstrengthen any half-formed intention you may have in your brain. Hunterleys is no ordinary sojourner here. You were quite right when youtold me that his stay at Bordighera and San Remo was a matter of daysonly. Now I will tell you something. Three weeks ago he was atBukharest. He spent two days with Novisko. From there he went to Sofia. He was heard of in Athens and Constantinople. My own agent wrote me thathe was in Belgrade. Hunterleys is the bosom friend of the EnglishForeign Secretary. That I know for myself. You have your reports. Youcan read between the lines. I tell you that Hunterleys is the man whohas paralysed our action amongst the Balkan States. He has played a neatlittle game out there. It is he who was the inspiration of Roumania. Itis he who drafted the secret understanding with Turkey. The war which wehoped for will not take place. From there Hunterleys came in a gunboatand landed on the Italian coast. He lingered at Bordighera forappearances only. He is here, if he can, to break up our conference. Itell you that you none of you appreciate this man. Hunterleys is themost dangerous Englishman living--"

"One moment, " Selingman interrupted. "To some extent I follow you, butwhen you speak of Hunterleys as a power in the present tense, doesn't itoccur to you that his Party is not in office? He is simply a member ofthe Opposition. If his Party get in again at the next election, I grantyou that he will be Foreign Minister and a dangerous one, but to-day heis simply a private person. "

"It is not every one, " Mr. Draconmeyer said slowly, "who bows his kneeto the shibboleth of party politics. Remember that I come to you fromLondon and I have information of which few others are possessed. Hunterleys is of the stuff of which patriots are made. Party is noconcern of his. He and the present Foreign Secretary are the greatest ofpersonal friends. I know for a fact that Hunterleys has actually beenconsulted and has helped in one or two recent crises. The verycircumstance that he is not of the ruling Party makes a free lance ofhim. When his people are in power, he will have to take office and wearthe shackles. To-day, with every quality which would make him thegreatest Foreign Minister England has ever had since Disraeli, he isnothing more nor less than a roving diplomatist, Emperor of hiscountry's Secret Service, if you like to put it so. Furthermore, look alittle into that future of which I have spoken. The present EnglishGovernment will last, at the most, another two years. I tell you thatwhen they go out of power, whoever comes in, Hunterleys will go to theForeign Office. We shall have to deal with a man who knows, a man--"

"I am not wholly satisfied with these éclairs, " Selingman interrupted, gazing into the dish. "Maître d'hôtel, come and listen to an awfulcomplaint, " he went on, and, addressing one of the head-waiters. "Youréclairs are too small, your cream-cakes too irresistible. I eat too muchhere. How, I ask you in the name of common sense, can a man dine whotakes tea here! Bring the bill. "

The man, smiling, hastened away. Not a word had passed between thethree, yet the other two understood the situation perfectly. Hunterleysand Richard Lane had entered the room together and were seated at anadjoining table. Selingman plunged into a fresh tirade, pointing to thehalf-demolished plateful of cakes. 

"I will eat one more, " he declared. "We will bilk the management. Thebill is made out. I shall not be observed. Our friend, " he continued, under his breath, "has secured a valuable bodyguard, something verylarge and exceedingly powerful. "

Draconmeyer hesitated for a moment. Then he turned to Mr. Grex. 

"You have perhaps observed, " he said, "the young man who is seated atthe next table. It may amuse you to hear of a very extraordinary pieceof impertinence of which, only this afternoon, he was guilty. Heaccosted me upon the Terrace--he is a young American whom I have met inLondon--and asked me for information respecting a Mr. And Miss Grex. "

Mr. Grex looked slowly towards the speaker. There was very little changein his face, yet Draconmeyer seemed in some way confused. 

"You will understand, I am sure, sir, " he continued, a little hastily, "that I was in no way to blame for the question which the young manaddressed to me. He had the presumption to enquire whether I couldprocure for him an introduction to the young lady whom he knew as MissGrex. Even at this moment, " Draconmeyer went on, lowering his voice, "heis trying to persuade Hunterleys to let him come over to us. "

"The young man, " Mr. Grex said deliberately, "is ignorant. If necessary, he must be taught his lesson. "

Selingman intervened. He breathed a heavy sigh. 

"Well, " he observed, "I perceive that the task at which we have hintedis to fall upon my shoulders. We must do what we can. I am atender-hearted man, and if extremes can be avoided, I shall like my taskbetter. .. . And now I have changed my mind. The loss of that six louisweighs upon me. I shall endeavour to regain it. Let us go. "

They rose and passed out into the roulette rooms. Richard Lane, whoremained in his seat with an effort, watched them pass with a frown uponhis face. 

"Say, Sir Henry, " he complained, "I don't quite understand this. Why, I'd only got to go over to Draconmeyer there and stand and talk for amoment, and he must have introduced me. "

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"Let me assure you, " he said, "that Draconmeyer would have done nothingof the sort. For one thing, we don't introduce over here as a matter ofcourse, as you do in America. And for another--well, I won't trouble youwith the other reason. .. . Look here, Lane, take my advice, there's asensible fellow. I am a man of the world, you know, and there arecertain situations in which one can make no mistake. If you are as hardhit as you say you are, go for a cruise and get over it. Don't hangaround here. No good will come of it. "

The young man set his teeth. He was looking very determined indeed. 

"There isn't anything in this world, short of a bomb, " he declared, "which is going to blow me out of Monte Carlo before I have made theacquaintance of Miss Grex!"

CHAPTER VII

THE EFFRONTERY OF RICHARD

Hunterleys took leave of his companion as soon as they arrived at theroulette rooms. 

"Take my advice, Lane, " he said seriously. "Find something to occupyyour thoughts. Throw a few hundred thousand of your dollars away at thetables, if you must do something foolish. You'll get into far lesstrouble. "

Richard made no direct reply. He watched Hunterleys depart and took uphis place opposite the door to await his sister's arrival. It was aquarter to five before she appeared and found him waiting for her in thedoorway. 

"Say, you're late, Flossie!" he grumbled. "I thought you were going tobe here soon after four. "

She glanced at the little watch upon her wrist. 

"How the time does slip away!" she sighed. "But really, Dicky, I am latein your interests as much as anything. I have been paying a few calls. Iwent out to the Villa Rosa to see some people who almost live here, andthen I met Lady Crawley and she made me go in and have some tea. "

"Well?" he asked impatiently. "Well?"

She laid her fingers upon his arm and drew him into a less crowded partof the room. 

"Dicky, " she confessed, "I don't seem to have had a bit of luck. TheComtesse d'Hausson, who lives at the Villa Rosa, knows them and showedme from the window the Villa Mimosa, where they live, but she would tellme absolutely nothing about them. The villa is the finest in MonteCarlo, and has always been taken before by some one of note. Shedeclares that they do not mix in the society of the place, but sheadmits that she has heard a rumour that Grex is only an assumed name. "

"I begin to believe that myself, " he said doggedly. "Hunterleys knowswho they are and won't tell me. So does that fellow Draconmeyer. "

"Sir Henry and Mr. Draconmeyer!" she repeated, raising her eyes. "Mydear Dick, that doesn't sound very reasonable, does it?"

"I tell you that they do, " he persisted. "They as good as told me so. Hunterleys, especially, left me here only half-an-hour ago, and his lastwords were advising me to chuck it. He's a sensible chap enough but hewon't even tell me why. I've had enough of it. I've a good mind to takethe bull by the horns myself. Mr. Grex is here now, somewhere about. Hewas sitting with Mr. Draconmeyer and a fat old German a few minutes ago, at the next table to ours. If I had been alone I should have gone up andchanced being introduced, but Hunterleys wouldn't let me. "

"Well, so far, " Lady Weybourne admitted, "I fear that I haven't donemuch towards that electric coupé; but, " she added, in a changed tone, looking across the tables, "there is just one thing, Dicky. Fatesometimes has a great deal to do with these little affairs. Look overthere. "

Richard left his sister precipitately, without even a word of farewell. She watched him cross the room, and smiled at the fury of a littleFrenchman whom he nearly knocked over in his hurry to get round to theother side of the table. A moment later he was standing a few feet awayfrom the girl who had taken so strange a hold upon his affections. Hehimself was conscious of a curious and unfamiliar nervousness. Physically he felt as though he had been running hard. He set his teethand tried to keep cool. He found some plaques in his pocket and began tostake. Then he became aware that the girl was holding in her hand a noteand endeavouring to attract the attention of the man who was givingchange. 

"_Petite monnaie, s'il vous plaît_, " he heard her say, stretching outthe note. 

The man took no notice. Richard held out his hand. 

"Will you allow me to get it changed for you?" he asked. 

Her first impulse at the sound of his voice was evidently one ofresentment. She seemed, indeed, in the act of returning some chillingreply. Then she glanced half carelessly towards him and her eyes restedupon his face. Richard was good-looking enough, but the chiefcharacteristic of his face was a certain honesty, which seemedaccentuated at that moment by his undoubted earnestness. The type wasperhaps strange to her. She was almost startled by what she saw. Scarcely knowing what she did, she allowed him to take the note from herfingers. 

"Thank you very much, " she murmured. 

Richard procured the change. He would have lifted every one out of theway if she had been in a hurry. Then he turned round and counted it veryslowly into her hands. From the left one she had removed the glove andhe saw, to his relief, that there was no engagement ring there. Hecounted so slowly that towards the end she seemed to become a littleimpatient. 

"That is quite all right, " she said. "It was very kind of you totrouble. "

She spoke very correct English with the slightest of foreign accents. Helooked once more into her eyes. 

"It was a pleasure, " he declared. 

She smiled faintly, an act of graciousness which absolutely turned hishead. With her hand full of plaques, she moved away and found a place alittle lower down the table. Richard fought with his first instinct andconquered it. He remained where he was, and when he moved it was inanother direction. He went into the bar and ordered a whisky and soda. He was as excited as he had been in the old days when he had rowedstroke in a winning race for his college boat. He felt, somehow orother, that the first step had been a success. She had been inclined atfirst to resent his offer. She had looked at him and changed her mind. Even when she had turned away, she had smiled. It was ridiculous, but hefelt as though he had taken a great step. Presently Lady Weybourne, onher way to the baccarat rooms, saw him sitting there and looked in. 

"Well, Dicky, " she exclaimed, "what luck?"

"Sit down, Flossie, " he begged. "I've spoken to her. "

"You don't mean, --" she began, horrified. 

"Oh, no, no! Nothing of that sort!" he interrupted. "Don't think I'msuch a blundering ass. She was trying to get change and couldn't reach. I took the note from her, got the change and gave it to her. She said, 'Thank you. ' When she went away, she smiled. "

Lady Weybourne flopped down upon the divan and screamed with laughter. 

"Dicky, " she murmured, wiping her eyes, "tell me, is that why you aresitting there, looking as though you could see right into Heaven? Do youknow that your face was one great beam when I came in?"

"Can't help it, " he answered contentedly. "I've spoken to her and shesmiled. "

Lady Weybourne opened her gold bag and produced a card. 

"Well, " she said, "here is another chance for you. Of course, I don'tknow that it will come to anything, but you may as well try your luck. "

"What is it?" he asked. 

She thrust a square of gilt-edged cardboard into his hand. 

"It's an invitation, " she told him, "from the directors, to attend adinner at La Turbie Golf Club-house, up in the mountains, to-night. Itisn't entirely a joke, I can tell you. It takes at least an hour to getthere, climbing all the way, and the place is as likely as not to bewrapped in clouds, but a great many of the important people are going, and as I happened to see Mr. Grex's name amongst the list of members, the other night, there is always a chance that they may be there. Ifnot, you see, you can soon come back. "

"I'm on, " Richard decided. "Give me the ticket. I am awfully obliged toyou, Flossie. "

"If she is there, " Lady Weybourne declared, rising, "I shall considerthat it is equivalent to one wheel of the coupé. "

"Have a cocktail instead, " he suggested. 

She shook her head. 

"Too early. If we meet later on, I'll have one. What are you going todo?"

"Same as I've been doing ever since lunch, " he answered, --"hang aroundand see if I can meet any one who knows them. "

She laughed and hurried off into the baccarat room, and Richardpresently returned to the table at which the girl was still playing. Hetook particular care not to approach her, but he found a place on theopposite side of the room, from which he could watch her unobserved. Shewas still standing and apparently she was losing her money. Once, with alittle petulant frown, she turned away and moved a few yards lower downthe room. The first time she staked in her new position, she won, and asmile which it seemed to him was the most brilliant he had ever seen, parted her lips. He stood there looking at her, and in the midst of ascene where money seemed god of all things, he realised all manner ofstrange and pleasant sensations. The fact that he had twenty thousandfrancs in his pocket to play with, scarcely occurred to him. He waswatching a little wisp of golden hair by her ear, watching her slightlywrinkled forehead as she leaned over the table, her little grimace asshe lost and her stake was swept away. She seemed indifferent to allbystanders. It was obvious that she had very few acquaintances. Where hestood it was not likely that she would notice him, and he abandonedhimself wholly to the luxury of gazing at her. Then some instinct causedhim to turn his head. He felt that he in his turn was being watched. Heglanced towards the divan set against the wall, by the side of which hewas standing. Mr. Grex was seated there, only a few feet away, smoking acigarette. Their eyes met and Richard was conscious of a suddenembarrassment. He felt like a detected thief, and he acted at thatmoment as he often did--entirely on impulse. He leaned down andresolutely addressed Mr. Grex. 

"I should be glad, sir, if you would allow me to speak to you for amoment. "

Mr. Grex's expression was one of cold surprise, unmixed with anycuriosity. 

"Do you address me?" he asked. 

His tone was vastly discouraging but it was too late to draw back. 

"I should like to speak to you, if I may, " Richard continued. 

"I am not aware, " Mr. Grex said, "that I have the privilege of youracquaintance. "

"You haven't, " Richard admitted, "but all the same I want to speak toyou, if I may. "

"Since you have gone so far, " Mr. Grex conceded, "you had better finish, but you must allow me to tell you in advance that I look upon anyaddress from a perfect stranger as an impertinence. "

"You'll think worse of me before I've finished, then, " Richard declareddesperately. "You don't mind if I sit down?"

"These seats, " Mr. Grex replied coldly, "are free to all. "

The young man took his place upon the divan with a sinking heart. Therewas something in Mr. Grex's tone which seemed to destroy all hisconfidence, a note of something almost alien in the measured contempt ofhis speech. 

"I am sorry to give you any offence, " Richard began. "I happened tonotice that you were watching me. I was looking at yourdaughter--staring at her. I am afraid you thought me impertinent. "

"Your perspicuity, " Mr. Grex observed, "seems to be of a higher orderthan your manners. You are, perhaps, a stranger to civilised society?"

"I don't know about that, " Richard went on doggedly. "I have been tocollege and mixed with the usual sort of people. My birth isn't much tospeak of, perhaps, if you count that for anything. "

Something which was almost like the ghost of a smile, devoid of anytrace of humour, parted Mr. Grex's lips. 

"If I count that for anything!" he repeated, half closing his eyes for amoment. "Pray proceed, young man. "

"I am an American, " Richard continued. "My name is Richard Lane. Myfather was very wealthy and I am his heir. My sister is Lady Weybourne. I was lunching with her at Ciro's to-day when I saw you and yourdaughter. I think I can say that I am a respectable person. I have agreat many friends to whom I can refer you. "

"I am not thinking of engaging anybody, that I know of, " Mr. Grexmurmured. 

"I want to marry your daughter, " Richard declared desperately, feelingthat any further form of explanation would only lead him into greatertrouble. 

Mr. Grex knocked the ash from his cigarette. 

"Is your keeper anywhere in the vicinity?" he asked. 

"I am perfectly sane, " Richard assured him. "I know that it soundsfoolish but it isn't really. I am twenty-seven years old and I havenever asked a girl to marry me yet. I have been waiting until--"

The words died away upon his lips. It was impossible for him tocontinue, the cold enmity of this man was too chilling. 

"I am absolutely in earnest, " he insisted. "I have been endeavouring allday to find some mutual friend to introduce me to your daughter. Willyou do so? Will you give me a chance?"

"I will not, " Mr. Grex replied firmly. 

"Why not? Please tell me why not?" Richard begged. "I am not asking foranything more now than just an opportunity to talk with her. "

"It is not a matter which admits of discussion, " Mr. Grex pronounced. "Ihave permitted you to say what you wished, notwithstanding the colossal, the unimaginable impertinence of your suggestion. I request you to leaveme now and I advise you most heartily to indulge no more in the mostpreposterous and idiotic idea which ever entered into the head of anapparently sane young man. "

Richard rose slowly to his feet. 

"Very well, sir, " he replied, "I'll go. All the same, what you have saiddoesn't make any difference. "

"Does not make any difference?" Mr. Grex repeated, with arched eyebrows. 

"None at all, " Richard declared. "I don't know what your objection to meis, but I hope you'll get over it some day. I'd like to make friendswith you. Perhaps, later on, you may look at the matter differently. "

"Later on?" Mr. Grex murmured. 

"When I have married your daughter, " Richard concluded, marchingdefiantly away. 

Mr. Grex watched the young man until he had disappeared in the crowd. Then he leaned hack amongst the cushions of the divan with folded arms. Little lines had become visible around his eyes, there was a slighttwitching at the corners of his lips. He looked like a man who wasinwardly enjoying some huge joke. 

CHAPTER VIII

UP THE MOUNTAIN

Richard, passing the Hotel de Paris that evening in his wicked-lookinggrey racing car, saw Hunterleys standing on the steps and pulled up. 

"Not going up to La Turbie, by any chance?" he enquired. 

Hunterleys nodded. 

"I'm going up to the dinner, " he replied. "The hotel motor is startingfrom here in a few minutes. "

"Come with me, " Richard invited. 

Hunterleys looked a little doubtfully at the long, low machine. 

"Are you going to shoot up?" he asked. "It's rather a dangerous road. "

"I'll take care of you, " the young man promised. "That hotel 'bus willbe crammed. "

They glided through the streets on to the broad, hard road, and creptupwards with scarcely a sound, through the blue-black twilight. Aroundand in front of them little lights shone out from the villas and smallhouses dotted away in the mountains. Almost imperceptibly they passedinto a different atmosphere. The air became cold and exhilarating. Theflavour of the mountain snows gave life to the breeze. Hunterleysbuttoned up his coat but bared his head. 

"My young friend, " he said, "this is wonderful. "

"It's a great climb, " Richard assented, "and doesn't she just eat itup!"

They paused for a moment at La Turbie. Below them was a chain ofglittering lights fringing the Bay of Mentone, and at their feet thelights of the Casino and Monte Carlo flared up through the scenteddarkness. Once more they swung upwards. The road now had become narrowerand the turnings more frequent. They were up above the region of villasand farmhouses, in a country which seemed to consist only of bleakhill-side, open to the winds, wrapped in shadows. Now and then theyheard the tinkling of a goat bell; far below they saw the twin lights ofother ascending cars. They reached the plateau at last and drew upbefore the club-house, ablaze with cheerful lights. 

"I'll just leave the car under the trees, " Richard declared. "No onewill be staying late. "

Hunterleys unwound his scarf and handed his coat and hat to a page-boy. Then he stood suddenly rigid. He bit his lip. His wife had just issuedfrom the cloak-room and was drawing on her gloves. She saw him andhesitated. She, too, turned a little paler. Slowly Hunterleys approachedher. 

"An unexpected pleasure, " he murmured. 

"I am here with Mr. Draconmeyer, " she told him, almost bluntly. 

Hunterleys bowed. 

"And a party?" he enquired. 

"No, " she replied. "I really did not want to come. Mr. Draconmeyer hadpromised Monsieur Pericot, the director here, to come and bring Mrs. Draconmeyer. At the last moment, however, she was not well enough, andhe almost insisted upon my taking her place. "

"Is it necessary to explain?" Hunterleys asked quietly. "You know verywell how I regard this friendship of yours. "

"I am sorry, " she said. "If I had known that we were likely tomeet--well, I would not have come here to-night. "

"You were at least considerate, " he remarked bitterly. "May I bepermitted to compliment you upon your toilette?"

"As you pay for my frocks, " she answered, "there is certainly no reasonwhy you shouldn't admire them. "

He bit his lip. There was a certain challenge in her expression whichmade him, for a moment, feel weak. She was a very beautiful woman andshe was looking her best. He spoke quickly on another subject. 

"Are you still, " he asked, "troubled by the attentions of the person youspoke to me about?"

"I am still watched, " she replied drily. 

"I have made some enquiries, " Hunterleys continued, "and I have come tothe conclusion that you are right. "

"And you still tell me that you have nothing to do with it?"

"I assure you, upon my honour, that I have nothing whatever to do withit. "

It was obvious that she was puzzled, but at that moment Mr. Draconmeyerpresented himself. The newcomer simply bowed to Hunterleys and addressedsome remark about the room to Violet. Then Richard came up and they allpassed on into the reception room, where two or three very fussy butvery suave and charming Frenchmen were receiving the guests. A fewminutes afterwards dinner was announced. A black frown was uponRichard's forehead. 

"She isn't coming!" he muttered. "I say, Sir Henry, you won't mind if weleave early?"

"I shall be jolly glad to get away, " Hunterleys assented heartily. 

Then he suddenly felt a grip of iron upon his arm. 

"She's come!" Richard murmured ecstatically. "Look at her, all in white!Just look at the colour of her hair! There she is, going into thereception room. Jove! I'm glad we are here, after all!"

Hunterleys smiled a little wearily. They passed on into the _salle àmanger_. The seats at the long dining-tables were not reserved, and theyfound a little table for two in a corner, which they annexed. Hunterleyswas in a grim humour, but his companion was in the wildest spirits. Considering that he was placed where he could see Mr. Grex and hisdaughter nearly the whole of the time, he really did contrive to keephis eyes away from them to a wonderful extent, but he talked of herunceasingly. 

"Say, I'm sorry for you, Sir Henry!" he declared. "It's just your badluck, being here with me while I've got this fit on, but I've got totalk to some one, so you may as well make up your mind to it. Therenever was anything like that girl upon the earth. There never wasanything like the feeling you get, " he went on, "when you're absolutelyand entirely convinced, when you know--that there's just one girl whocounts for you in the whole universe. Gee whiz! It does get hold of you!I suppose you've been through it all, though. "

"Yes, I've been through it!" Hunterleys admitted, with a sigh. 

The young man bit his lip. The story of Hunterleys' matrimonialdifferences was already being whispered about. Richard talked polovigorously for the next quarter of an hour. It was not until the coffeeand liqueurs arrived that they returned to the subject of Miss Grex. Then it was Hunterleys himself who introduced it. He was beginning torather like this big, self-confident young man, so full of his simplelove affair, so absolutely honest in his purpose, in his outlook uponlife. 

"Lane, " he said, "I have given you several hints during the day, haven'tI?"

"That's so, " Richard agreed. "You've done your best to head me off. Sodid my future father-in-law. Sort of hopeless task, I can assure you. "

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"Honestly, " he continued, "I wouldn't let myself think too much abouther, Lane. I don't want to explain exactly what I mean. There's no realreason why I shouldn't tell you what I know about Mr. Grex, but for agood many people's sakes, it's just as well that those few of us whoknow keep quiet. I am sure you trust me, and it's just the same, therefore, if I tell you straight, as man to man, that you're onlylaying up for yourself a store of unhappiness by fixing your thoughts soentirely upon that young woman. "

Richard, for all his sublime confidence, was a little staggered by theother's earnestness. 

"Look here, " he said, "the girl isn't married, to start with?"

"Not that I know of, " Hunterleys confessed. 

"And she's not engaged because I've seen her left hand, " Richardproceeded. "I'm not one of those Americans who go shouting all over theworld that because I've got a few million dollars I am the equal ofanybody, but honestly, Sir Henry, there are a good many prejudices overthis side that you fellows lay too much store by. Grex may be a noblemanin disguise. I don't care. I am a man. I can give her everything sheneeds in life and I am not going to admit, even if she is an aristocrat, that you croakers are right when you shake your heads and advise me togive her up. I don't care who she is, Hunterleys. I am going to marryher. "

Hunterleys helped himself to a liqueur. 

"Young man, " he said, "in a sense I admire your independence. Inanother, I think you've got all the conceit a man needs for this world. Let us presume, for a moment, that she is, as you surmise, the daughterof a nobleman. When it suits her father to throw off his incognito, sheis probably in touch with young men in the highest circles of manycountries. Why should you suppose that you can come along and cut themall out?"

"Because I love her, " the young man answered simply. "They don't. "

"You must remember, " Hunterleys resumed, "that all foreign noblemen arenot what they are represented to be in your comic papers. Austrian andRussian men of high rank are most of them very highly cultivated, veryaccomplished, and very good-looking. You don't know much of the world, do you? It's a pretty formidable enterprise to come from a New Yorkoffice, with only Harvard behind you, and a year or so's travel as atourist, and enter the list against men who have had twice youropportunities. I am talking to you like this, young fellow, for yourgood. I hope you realise that. You're used to getting what you want. That's because you've been brought up in a country where money can doalmost anything. I am behind the scenes here and I can assure you thatyour money won't count for much with Mr. Grex. "

"I never thought it would, " Richard admitted. "I think when I talk toher she'll understand that I care more than any of the others. If youwant to know the reason, that's why I'm so hopeful. "

Monsieur le Directeur had risen to his feet. Some one had proposed hishealth and he made a graceful little speech of acknowledgment. Heremained standing for a few minutes after the cheers which had greetedhis neat oratorical display had died away. The conclusion of his remarkscame as rather a surprise to his guests. 

"I have to ask you, ladies and gentlemen, " he announced, "with many, many regrets, and begging you to forgive my apparent inhospitality, tomake your arrangements for leaving us as speedily as may be possible. Our magnificent situation, with which I believe that most of you arefamiliar, has but one drawback. We are subject to very dense mountainmists, and alas! I have to tell you that one of these has come on mostunexpectedly and the descent must be made with the utmost care. Believeme, there is no risk or any danger, " he went on earnestly, "so long asyou instruct your chauffeurs to proceed with all possible caution. Atthe same time, as there is very little chance of the mist becomingabsolutely dispelled before daylight, in your own interests I wouldsuggest that a start be made as soon as possible. "

Every one rose at once, Richard and Hunterleys amongst them. 

"This will test your skill to-night, young man, " Hunterleys remarked. "How's the nerve, eh?"

Richard smiled almost beatifically. For once he had allowed his eyes towander and he was watching the girl with golden hair who was at thatmoment receiving the respectful homage of the director. 

"Lunatics, and men who are head over heels in love, " he declared, "nevercome to any harm. You'll be perfectly safe with me. "

CHAPTER IX

IN THE MISTS

Their first glimpse of the night, as Hunterleys and Lane passed outthrough the grudgingly opened door, was sufficiently disconcerting. Alittle murmur of dismay broke from the assembled crowd. Nothing was tobe seen but a dense bank of white mist, through which shone thebrilliant lights of the automobiles waiting at the door. Monsieur leDirecteur hastened about, doing his best to reassure everybody. 

"If I thought it was of the slightest use, " he declared, "I would askyou all to stay, but when the clouds once stoop like this, there is notlikely to be any change for twenty-four hours, and we have not, alas!sleeping accommodation. If the cars are slowly driven and kept to theinside, it is only a matter of a mile or two before you will drop belowthe level of the clouds. "

Hunterleys and Lane made their way out to the front, and with their coatcollars turned up, groped their way to the turf on the other side of theavenue. From where they stood, looking downwards, the whole world seemedwrapped in mysterious and somber silence. There was nothing to be seenbut the grey, driving clouds. In less than a minute their hair andeyebrows were dripping. A slight breeze had sprung up, the cold wasintense. 

"Cheerful sort of place, this, " Lane remarked gloomily. "Shall we make astart?"

Hunterleys hesitated. 

"Not just yet. Look!"

He pointed downwards. For a moment the clouds had parted. Thousands offeet below, like little pinpricks of red fire, they saw the lights ofMonte Carlo. Almost as they looked, the clouds closed up again. It wasas though they had peered into another world. 

"Jove, that was queer!" Lane muttered. "Look! What's that?"

A long ray of sickly yellow light shone for a moment and was thensuddenly blotted out by a rolling mass of vapour. The clouds had closedin again once more. The obscurity was denser than ever. 

"The lighthouse, " Hunterleys replied. "Do you think it's any usewaiting?"

"We'll go inside and put on our coats, " Lane suggested. "My car is bythe side of the avenue there. I covered it over and left it. "

They found their coats in the hall, wrapped themselves up and litcigarettes. Already many of the cars had started and vanished cautiouslyinto obscurity. Every now and then one could hear the tooting of theirhorns from far away below. The chief steward was directing thedepartures and insisting upon an interval of three minutes between each. The two men stood on one side and watched him. He was holding open thedoor of a large, exceptionally handsome car. On the other side was aservant in white livery. Lane gripped his companion's arm. 

"There she goes!" he exclaimed. 

The girl, followed by Mr. Grex, stepped into the landaulette, which wasbrilliantly illuminated inside with electric light. Almost immediatelythe car glided noiselessly off. The two men watched it until itdisappeared. Then they crossed the road. 

"Now then, Sir Henry, " Richard observed grimly, as he turned the handleof the car and they took their places in the little well-shaped space, "better say your prayers. I'm going to drive slowly enough but it's anawful job, this, crawling down the side of a mountain in the dark, withnothing between you and eternity but your brakes. "

They crept off. As far as the first turn the lights from the club-househelped them. Immediately afterwards, however, the obscurity wasenveloping. Their faces were wet and shiny with moisture. Even thefingers of Lane's gloves which gripped the wheel were sodden. Heproceeded at a snail's pace, keeping always on the inside of the roadand only a few inches from the wall or bank. Once he lost his way andhis front wheel struck a small stump, but they were going too slowly fordisaster. Another time he failed to follow the turn of the road andfound himself in a rough cart track. They backed with difficulty and gotright once more. At the fourth turn they came suddenly upon a huge carwhich had left the road as they had done and was standing amongst thepine trees, its lights flaring through the mist. 

"Hullo!" Lane called out, coming to a standstill. "You've missed theturn. "

"My master is going to stay here all night, " the chauffeur shouted back. 

A man put his head from the window and began to talk in rapid French. 

"It is inconceivable, " he exclaimed, "that any one should attempt thedescent! We have rugs, my wife and I. We stay here till the cloudspass. "

"Good night, then!" Lane cried cheerfully. 

"Not sure that you're not wise, " Hunterleys added, with a shiver. 

Twice they stopped while Lane rubbed the moisture from his gloves andlit a fresh cigarette. 

"This is a test for your nerve, young fellow, " Hunterleys remarked. "Areyou feeling it?"

"Not in the least, " Lane replied. "I can't make out, though, why thatsteward made us all start at intervals of three minutes. Seems to me weshould have been better going together at this pace. Save any one fromgetting lost, anyhow. "

They crawled on for another twenty minutes. The routine was always thesame--a hundred yards or perhaps two, an abrupt turn and then a similardistance the other way. They had one or two slight misadventures butthey made progress. Once, through a rift, they caught a momentary visionof a carpet of lights at a giddy distance below. 

"We'll make it all right, " Lane declared, crawling around anothercorner. "Gee! but this is the toughest thing in driving I've ever known!I can do ninety with this car easier than I can do this three. Hullo, some one else in trouble!"

Before them, in the middle of the road, a light was being slowly swungbackwards and forwards. Lane brought the car to a standstill. He hadscarcely done so when they were conscious of the sound of footsteps allaround them. The arms of both men were seized from behind. They wereaddressed in guttural French. 

"Messieurs will be pleased to descend. "

"What the--what's wrong?" Lane demanded. 

"Descend at once, " was the prompt order. 

By the light of the lantern which the speaker was holding, they caught aglimpse of a dozen white faces and the dull gleam of metal from thefirearms which his companions were carrying. Hunterleys stepped out. Anescort of two men was at once formed on either side of him. 

"Tell us what it's all about, anyhow?" he asked coolly. 

"Nothing serious, " the same guttural voice answered, --"a little affairwhich will be settled in a few minutes. As for you, monsieur, " the mancontinued, turning to Lane, "you will drive your car slowly to the nextturn, and leave it there. Afterwards you will return with me. "

Richard set his teeth and leaned over his wheel. Then it suddenlyflashed into his mind that Mr. Grex and his daughter were alreadyamongst the captured. He quickly abandoned his first instinct. 

"With pleasure, monsieur, " he assented. "Tell me when to stop. "

He drove the car a few yards round the corner, past a line of others. Their lights were all extinguished and the chauffeurs absent. 

"This is a pleasant sort of picnic!" he grumbled, as he brought his carto a standstill. "Now what do I do, monsieur?"

"You return with me, if you please, " was the reply. 

Richard stood, for a moment, irresolute. The idea of giving in without astruggle was most distasteful to this self-reliant young American. Thenhe realised that not only was his captor armed but that there were menbehind him and one on either side. 

"Lead the way, " he decided tersely. 

They marched him up the hill, a little way across some short turf andround the back of a rock to a long building which he remembered to havenoticed on his way up. His guide threw open the door and Richard lookedin upon a curious scene. Ranged up against the further wall were about adozen of the guests who had preceded him in his departure from theClub-house. One man only had his hands tied behind him. The others, apparently, were considered harmless. Mr. Grex was the one man, andthere was a little blood dripping from his right hand. The girl stood byhis side. She was no paler than usual--she showed, indeed, no signs ofterror at all--but her eyes were bright with indignation. One man wasbusy stripping the jewels from the women and throwing them into a bag. In the far corner the little group of chauffeurs was being watched bytwo more men, also carrying firearms. Lane looked down the line offaces. Lady Hunterleys was there, and by her side Draconmeyer. Hunterleys was a little apart from the others. Freddy Montressor, whowas leaning against the wall, chuckled as Lane came in. 

"So they've got you, too, Dicky, have they?" he remarked. "It's ahold-up--a bully one, too. Makes one feel quite homesick, eh? How muchhave you got on you?"

"Precious little, thank heavens!" Richard muttered. 

His eyes were fixed upon the brigand who was collecting the jewels, andwho was now approaching Miss Grex. He felt something tingling in hisblood. One of the guests began to talk excitedly. The man who wasapparently the leader, and who was standing at the door with an electrictorch in one hand and a revolver in the other, stepped a little forward. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, " he said, "once more I beg you not to be alarmed. So long as you part with your valuables peaceably, you will be atliberty to depart as soon as every one has been dealt with. If there isno resistance, there will be no trouble. We do not wish to hurt anyone. "

The collector of jewels had arrived in front of the girl. She unfastenedher necklace and handed it to him. 

"The little pendant around my neck, " she remarked calmly, "is valueless. I desire to keep it. "

"Impossible!" the man replied. "Off with it. "

"But I insist!" she exclaimed. "It is an heirloom. "

The man laughed brutally. His filthy hand was raised to her neck. Evenas he touched her, Lane, with a roar of anger, sent one of his guardsflying on to the floor of the barn, and, snatching the gun from hishand, sprang forward. 

"Come on, you fellows!" he shouted, bringing it down suddenly upon thehand of the robber. "These things aren't loaded. There's only one ofthese blackguards with a revolver. "

[Illustration: "Come on, you fellows!" he shouted. ]

"And I've got him!" Hunterleys, who had been watching Lane closely, cried, suddenly swinging his arm around the man's neck and knocking hisrevolver up. 

There was a yell of pain from the man with the jewels, whose wrist Lanehad broken, a howl of dismay from the others--pandemonium. 

"At 'em, Freddy!" Lane shouted, seizing the nearest of his assailants bythe neck and throwing him out into the darkness. "To hell with you!" headded, just escaping a murderous blow and driving his fist into the faceof the man who had aimed it. "Good for you, Hunterleys! There isn't oneof those old guns of theirs that'll go off. They aren't even loaded. "

The barn seemed suddenly to become half empty. Into the darkness thelittle band of brigands crept away like rats. In less than half a minutethey had all fled, excepting the one who lay on the ground unconsciousfrom the effects of Richard's blow, and the leader of the gang, whomHunterleys still held by the throat. Richard, with a clasp-knife whichhe had drawn from his pocket, cut the cord which they had tied aroundMr. Grex's wrists. His action, however, was altogether mechanical. Hescarcely glanced at what he was doing. Somehow or other, he found thegirl's hands in his. 

"That brute--didn't touch you, did he?" he asked. 

She looked at him. Whether the clouds were still outside or not, Lanefelt that he had passed into Heaven. 

"He did not, thanks to you, " she murmured. "But do you mean really thatthose guns all the time weren't loaded?"

"I don't believe they were, " Richard declared stoutly. "That chap kepton playing about with the lock of his old musket and I felt sure that itwas of no use, loaded or not. Anyway, when I saw that brute try tohandle you--well--"

He stopped, with an awkward little laugh. Mr. Grex tapped a cigaretteupon his case and lit it. 

"I am sure, my young friend, we are all very much indebted to you. Themethods which sometimes are scarcely politic in the ordinary affairs oflife, " he continued drily, "are admirable enough in a case like this. Wewill just help Hunterleys tie up the leader of the gang. A very pluckystroke, that of his. "

He crossed the barn. One of the women had fainted, others were busycollecting their jewelry. The chauffeurs had hurried off to relight thelamps of the cars. 

"I must tell you this, " Richard said, drawing a a little nearer to thegirl. "Please don't be angry with me. I went to your father thisafternoon. I made an idiot of myself--I couldn't help it. I was staringat you and he noticed it. I didn't want him to think that I was such anill-mannered brute as I seemed. I tried to make him understand but hewouldn't listen to me. I'd like to tell you now--now that I have theopportunity--that I think you're just--"

She smiled very faintly. 

"What is it that you wish to tell me?" she asked patiently. 

"That I love you, " he wound up abruptly. 

There was a moment's silence, a silence with a background of strangenoises. People were talking, almost shouting to one another withexcitement. Newcomers were being told the news. The man whom Hunterleyshad captured was shrieking and cursing. From beyond came the tooting ofmotor-horns as the cars returned. Lane heard nothing. He saw nothing butthe white face of the girl as she stood in the shadows of the barn, withits walls of roughly threaded pine trunks. 

"But I have scarcely ever spoken to you in my life!" she protested, looking at him in astonishment. 

"It doesn't make any difference, " he replied. "You know I am speakingthe truth. I think, in your heart, that you, too, know that these thingsdon't matter, now and then. Of course, you don't--you couldn't feelanything of what I feel, but with me it's there now and for always, andI want to have a chance, just a chance to make you understand. I'm notreally mad. I'm just--in love with you. "

She smiled at him, still in a friendly manner, but her face had clouded. There was a look in her eyes almost of trouble, perhaps of regret. 

"I am so sorry, " she murmured. "It is only a sudden feeling on yourpart, isn't it? You have been so splendid to-night that I can do no morethan thank you very, very much. And as for what you have told me, Ithink it is an honour, but I wish you to forget it. It is not wise foryou to think of me in that way. I fear that I cannot even offer you myfriendship. "

Again there was a brief silence. The clamour of exclamations from thelittle groups of people still filled the air outside. They could hearcars coming and going. The man whom Hunterleys and Mr. Grex were tyingup was still groaning and cursing. 

"Are you married?" Richard asked abruptly. 

She shook her head. 

"Engaged?"

"No!"

"Do you care very much for any one else?"

"No!" she told him softly. 

He drew her away. 

"Come outside for one moment, " he begged. "I hate to see you in theplace where that beast tried to lay hands upon you. Here is yournecklace. "

He picked it up from her feet and she followed him obediently outside. People were standing about, shadowy figures in little groups. Some ofthe cars had already left, others were being prepared for a start. Below, once more the clouds had parted and the lights twinkled likefireflies through the trees. This time they could even see the lightsfrom the village of La Turbie, less brilliant but almost at their feet. Richard glanced upwards. There was a star clearly visible. 

"The clouds are lifting, " he said. "Listen. If there is no one else, tell me, why there shouldn't be the slightest chance for me? I am notclever, I am nobody of any account, but I care for you so wonderfully. Ilove you, I always shall love you, more than any one else could. I neverunderstood before, but I understand now. Just this caring means somuch. "

She stood close to his side. Her manner at the same time seemed todepress him and yet to fill him with hope. 

"What is your name?" she enquired. 

"Richard Lane, " he told her. "I am an American. "

"Then, Mr. Richard Lane, " she continued softly, "I shall always think ofyou and think of to-night and think of what you have said, and perhaps Ishall be a little sorry that what you have asked me cannot be. "

"Cannot?" he muttered. 

She shook her head almost sadly. 

"Some day, " she went on, "as soon as our stay in Monte Carlo isfinished, if you like, I will write and tell you the real reason, incase you do not find it out before. "

He was silent, looking downwards to where the gathering wind was drivingthe clouds before it, to where the lights grew clearer and clearer atevery moment. 

"Does it matter, " he asked abruptly, "that I am rich--very rich?"

"It does not matter at all, " she answered. 

"Doesn't it matter, " he demanded, turning suddenly upon her and speakingwith a new passion, almost a passion of resentment, "doesn't it matterthat without you life doesn't exist for me any longer? Doesn't it matterthat a man has given you his whole heart, however slight a thing it mayseem to you? What am I to do if you send me away? There isn't anythingleft in life. "

"There is what you have always found in it, " she reminded him. 

"There isn't, " he replied fiercely. "That's just what there isn't. Ishould go back to a world that was like a dead city. "

He suddenly felt her hand upon his. 

"Dear Mr. Lane, " she begged, "wait for a little time before you nursethese sad thoughts, and when you know how impossible what you ask is, itwill seem easier. But if you really care to hear something, if it wouldreally please you sometimes to think of it when you are alone and youremember this little foolishness of yours, let me tell you, if I may, that I am sorry--I am very sorry. "

His hand was suddenly pressed, and then, before he could stop her, shehad glided away. He moved a step to follow her and almost at once he wassurrounded. Lady Hunterleys patted him on the shoulder. 

"Really, " she exclaimed, "you and Henry were our salvation. I haven'tfelt so thrilled for ages. I only wish, " she added, dropping her voice alittle, "that it might bring you the luck you deserve. "

He answered vaguely. She turned back to Hunterleys. She was busy tearingup her handkerchief. 

"I am going to tie up your head, " she said. "Please stoop down. "

He obeyed at once. The side of his forehead was bleeding where a bulletfrom the revolver of the man he had captured had grazed his temple. 

"Too bad to trouble you, " he muttered. 

"It's the least we can do, " she declared, laughing nervously. "Forgiveme if my fingers tremble. It is the excitement of the last few minutes. "

Hunterleys stood quite still. Words seemed difficult to him just then. 

"You were very brave, Henry, " she said quietly. "Whom--whom are yougoing down with?"

"I am with Richard Lane, " he answered, "in his two-seated racer. "

She bit her lip. 

"I did not mean to come alone with Mr. Draconmeyer, really, " sheexplained. "He thought, up to the last moment, that his wife would bewell enough to come. "

"Did he really believe so, do you think?" Hunterleys asked. 

A voice intervened. Mr. Draconmeyer was standing by their side. 

"Well, " he said, "we might as well resume our journey. We all look andfeel, I think, as though we had been taking part in a scene from someopéra bouffe. "

Lady Hunterleys shivered. She had drawn a little closer to her husband. Her coat was unfastened. Hunterleys leaned towards her and buttoned itwith strong fingers up to her throat. 

"Thank you, " she whispered. "You wouldn't--you couldn't drive down withus, could you?"

"Have you plenty of room?" he enquired. 

"Plenty, " she declared eagerly. "Mr. Draconmeyer and I are alone. "

For a moment Hunterleys hesitated. Then he caught the smile upon theface of the man he detested. 

"Thank you, " he said, "I don't think I can desert Lane. "

She stiffened at once. Her good night was almost formal. Hunterleysstepped into the car which Richard had brought up. There was just aslight mist around them, but the whole country below, though chaotic, was visible, and the lights on the hill-side, from La Turbie down to thesea-board, were in plain sight. 

"Our troubles, " Hunterleys remarked, as they glided off, "seem to beover. "

"Maybe, " Lane replied grimly. "Mine seem to be only just beginning!"

CHAPTER X

SIGNS OF TROUBLE

At ten o'clock the next morning, Hunterleys crossed the sunlit gardenstowards the English bank, to receive what was, perhaps, the greatestshock of his life. A few minutes later he stood before the mahoganycounter, his eyes fixed upon the half sheet of notepaper which themanager had laid before him. The words were few enough and simpleenough, yet they constituted for him a message written in the very inkof tragedy. The notepaper was the notepaper of the Hotel de Paris, thedate the night before, the words few and unmistakable:

 To the Manager of the English Bank. Please hand my letters to bearer. 

 HENRY HUNTERLEYS. 

He read it over, letter by letter, word by word. Then at last he lookedup. His voice sounded, even to himself, unnatural. 

"You were quite right, " he said. "This order is a forgery. "

The manager was greatly disturbed. He threw open the door of his privateoffice. 

"Come and sit down for a moment, will you, Sir Henry?" he invited. "Thisis a very serious matter, and I should like to discuss it with you. "

They passed behind into the comfortable little sitting-room, smelling ofmorocco leather and roses, with its single high window, its broadwriting-table, its carefully placed easy-chairs. Men had pleaded in herewith all the eloquence at their command, men of every rank and walk inlife, thieves, nobles, ruined men and pseudo-millionaires, always withthe same cry--money; money for the great pleasure-mill which day andnight drew in its own. Hunterleys sank heavily into a chair. The managerseated himself in an official attitude before his desk. 

"I am sorry to have distressed you with this letter, Sir Henry, " hesaid. "However, you must admit that things might have been worse. It isfortunately our invariable custom, when letters are addressed to one ofour clients in our care, to deliver them to no one else under anycircumstances. If you had been ill, for instance, I should have broughtyou your correspondence across to the hotel, but I should not havedelivered it to your own secretary. That, as I say, is our invariablerule, and we find that it has saved many of our clients frominconvenience. In your case, " the manager concluded impressively, "yourcommunications being, in a sense, official, any such attempt as has beenmade would not stand the slightest chance of success. We should be evenmore particular than in any ordinary case to see that by no possiblechance could any correspondence addressed to you, fall into otherhands. "

Hunterleys began to recover himself a little. He drew towards himselfthe heap of letters which the manager had laid by his side. 

"Please make yourself quite comfortable here, " the latter begged. "Readyour letters and answer them, if you like, before you go out. I alwayscall this, " he added, with a smile, "the one inviolable sanctuary ofMonte Carlo. "

"You are very kind, " Hunterleys replied. "Are you sure that I am notdetaining you?"

"Not in the least. Personally, I am not at all busy. Three-quarters ofour business, you see, is merely a matter of routine. I was just goingto shut myself up here and read the _Times_. Have a cigarette? Here's anenvelope opener and a waste-paper basket. Make yourself comfortable. "

Hunterleys glanced through his correspondence, rapidly reading anddestroying the greater portion of it. He came at last to two parchmentenvelopes marked "On His Majesty's Service. " These he opened and readtheir contents slowly and with great care. When he had finished, heproduced a pair of scissors from his waistcoat pocket and cut theletters into minute fragments. He drew a little sigh of relief when atlast their final destruction was assured, and rose shortly afterwards tohis feet. 

"I shall have to go on to the telegraph office, " he said, "to send thesefew messages. Thank you very much, Mr. Harrison, for your kindness. Ifyou do not mind, I should like to take this forged order away with me. "

The manager hesitated. 

"I am not sure that I ought to part with it, " he observed doubtfully. 

"Could you recognise the person who presented it--you or your clerk?"

The manager shook his head. 

"Not a chance, " he replied. "It was brought in, unfortunately, before Iarrived. Young Parsons, who was the only one in the bank, explained thatletters were never delivered to an order, and turned away to attend tosome one else who was in a hurry. He simply remembers that it was a man, and that is all. "

"Then the document is useless to you, " Hunterleys pointed out. "Youcould never do anything in the matter without evidence ofidentification, and that being so, if you don't mind I should like tohave it. "

Mr. Harrison yielded it up. 

"As you wish, " he agreed. "It is interesting, if only as a curiosity. The imitation of your signature is almost perfect. "

Hunterleys took up his hat. Then for a moment, with his hand upon thedoor, he hesitated. 

"Mr. Harrison, " he said, "I am engaged just now, as you have doubtlesssurmised, in certain investigations on behalf of the usual third partywhom we need not name. Those investigations have reached a pitch whichmight possibly lead me into a position of some--well, I might almost saydanger. You and I both know that there are weapons in this place whichcan be made use of by persons wholly without scruples, which arescarcely available at home. I want you to keep your eyes open. I havevery few friends here whom I can wholly trust. It is my purpose to callin here every morning at ten o'clock for my letters, and if I fail toarrive within half-an-hour of that time without having given you verbalnotice, something will have happened to me. You understand what I mean?"

"You mean that you are threatened with assassination?" the manager askedgravely. 

"Practically it amounts to that, " Hunterleys admitted. "I received awarning letter this morning. There is a very important matter on foothere, Mr. Harrison, a matter so important that to bring it to asuccessful conclusion I fancy that those who are engaged in it would nothesitate to face any risk. I have wired to England for help. If anythinghappens that it comes too late, I want you, when you find that I havedisappeared, even if my disappearance is only a temporary matter, to letthem know in London--you know how--at once. "

The manager nodded. 

"I will do so, " he promised. "I trust, however, " he went on, "that youare exaggerating the danger. Mr. Billson lived here for many yearswithout any trouble. "

Hunterleys smiled slightly. 

"I am not a Secret Service man, " he explained. "Billson's successorlives here now, of course, and is working with me, under the usual guiseof newspaper correspondent. I don't think that he will come to any harm. But I am here in a somewhat different position, and my negotiations inthe east, during the last few weeks, have made me exceedingly unpopularwith some very powerful people. However, it is only an outside chance, of course, that I wish to guard against. I rely upon you, if I shouldfail to come to the bank any one morning without giving you notice, todo as I have asked. "

Hunterleys left the bank and walked out once more into the sunlight. Hefirst of all made his way down to the Post Office, where he rapidlydispatched several cablegrams which he had coded and written out in Mr. Harrison's private office. Afterwards he went on to the Terrace, andfinding a retired seat at the further end, sat down. Then he drew theforged order once more from his pocket. Word by word, line by line, hestudied it, and the more he studied it, the more hopeless the wholething seemed. The handwriting, with the exception of the signature, which was a wonderful imitation of his own, was the handwriting of hiswife. She had done this thing at Draconmeyer's instigation, done thisthing against her husband, taken sides absolutely with the man whom hehad come to look upon as his enemy! What inference was he to draw? Hesat there, looking out over the Mediterranean, soft and blue, glitteringwith sunlight, breaking upon the yellow stretch of sand in littlefoam-flecked waves no higher than his hand. He watched the sunlightglitter on the white houses which fringed the bay. He looked idly up atthe trim little vineyards on the brown hill-side. It was the beauty spotof the world. There was no object upon which his eyes could rest, whichwas not beautiful. The whole place was like a feast of colour and formand sunshine. Yet for him the light seemed suddenly to have faded fromlife. Danger had only stimulated him, had helped him to cope with thedull pain which he had carried about with him during the last fewmonths. He was face to face now with something else. It was worse, this, than anything he had dreamed. Somehow or other, notwithstanding thegrowing estrangement with his wife which had ended in their virtualseparation, he had still believed in her, still had faith in her, stillhad hope of an ultimate reconciliation. And behind it all, he had lovedher. It seemed at that moment that a nightmare was being formed aroundhim. A new horror was creeping into his thoughts. He had felt from thefirst a bitter dislike of Draconmeyer. Now, however, he realised thatthis feeling had developed into an actual and harrowing jealousy. Herealised that the man was no passive agent. It was Draconmeyer who, withsubtle purpose, was drawing his wife away! Hunterleys sprang to his feetand walked angrily backwards and forwards along the few yards ofTerrace, which happened at that moment to be almost deserted. Vagueplans of instant revenge upon Draconmeyer floated into his mind. It wassimple enough to take the law into his own hands, to thrash himpublicly, to make Monte Carlo impossible for him. And then, suddenly, heremembered his duty. They were trusting him in Downing Street. Chancehad put into his hands so many threads of this diabolical plot. It wasfor him to checkmate it. He was the only person who could checkmate it. This was no time for him to think of personal revenge, no time for himto brood over his own broken life. There was work still to be done--hiscountry's work. .. . 

He felt the need of change of scene. The sight of the place with itsplacid, enervating beauty, its constant appeal to the senses, wasbeginning to have a curious effect upon his nerves. He turned back uponthe Terrace, and by means of the least frequented streets he passedthrough the town and up towards the hills. He walked steadily, recklessof time or direction. He had lunch at a small inn high above the roadfrom Cannes, and it was past three o'clock when he turned homewards. Hehad found his way into the main road now and he trudged along heedlessof the dust with which the constant procession of automobiles coveredhim all the while. The exercise had done him good. He was able to keephis thoughts focussed upon his mission. So far, at any rate, he had heldhis own. His dispatches to London had been clear and vivid. He had toldthem exactly what he had feared, he had shown them the inside of thisscheme as instinct had revealed it to him, and he had begged for aid. One man alone, surrounded by enemies, and in a country where all thingswere possible, was in a parlous position if once the extent of hisknowledge were surmised. So far, the plot had not yet matured. So far, though the clouds had gathered and the thunder was muttering, the stormhad not broken. The reason for that he knew--the one person needed, theone person for whose coming all these plans had been made, had not yetarrived. There was no telling, however, how long the respite might last. At any moment might commence this conference, whose avowed purpose wasto break at a single blow, a single treacherous but deadly blow, theEmpire whose downfall Selingman had once publicly declared was the onegreat necessity involved by his country's expansion. .. . 

Hunterleys quenched his thirst at a roadside café, sitting out upon thepavement and drinking coarse red wine and soda-water. Then he bought apacket of black cigarettes and continued his journey. He was withinsight of Monte Carlo when for the twentieth time he had to step to thefar side of the pathway to avoid being smothered in dust by an advancingautomobile. This time, by some chance, he glanced around, attracted bythe piercing character of its long-distance whistle. A high-powered greytouring car came by, travelling at a great pace. Hunterleys stoodperfectly rigid, one hand grasping the wall by the side of which hestood. Notwithstanding his spectacles and the thick coating of dust uponhis clothes, the solitary passenger of the car was familiar enough tohim. It was the man for whom this plot had been prepared. It was PaulDouaille, the great Foreign Minister into whose hands even the mostcautious of Premiers had declared himself willing to place the destiniesof his country!

Hunterleys pursued the road no longer. He took a ticket at the nextstation and hurried back to Monte Carlo. He went first to his room, bathed and changed, and, passing along the private passage, made his wayinto the Sporting Club. The first person whom he saw, seated in heraccustomed place at her favourite table, was his wife. She beckoned himto come over to her. There was a vacant chair by her side to which shepointed. 

"Thank you, " he said, "I won't sit down. I don't think that I care toplay just now. You are fortunate this afternoon, I trust?"

Something in his face and tone checked that rush of altered feeling ofwhich she had been more than once passionately conscious since the nightbefore. 

"I am hideously out of luck, " she confessed slowly. "I have been losingall day. I think that I shall give it up. "

She rose wearily to her feet and he felt a sudden compassion for her. She was certainly looking tired. Her eyes were weary, she had the air ofan unhappy woman. After all, perhaps she too sometimes knew whatloneliness was. 

"I should like some tea so much, " she added, a little piteously. 

He opened his lips to invite her to pass through into the restaurantwith him. Then the memory of that forged order still in his pocket, flashed into his mind. He hesitated. A cold, familiar voice at his elbowintervened. 

"Are you quite ready for tea, Lady Hunterleys? I have been in and takena table near the window. "

Hunterleys moved at once on one side. Draconmeyer bowed pleasantly. 

"Cheerful time we had last night, hadn't we?" he remarked. "Glad to seeyour knock didn't lay you up. "

Hunterleys disregarded his wife's glance. He was suddenly furious. 

"All Monte Carlo seems to be gossiping about that little contretemps, "Draconmeyer continued. "It was a crude sort of hold-up for aneighbourhood of criminals, but it very nearly came off. Will you havesome tea with us?"

"Do, Henry, " his wife begged. 

Once again he hesitated. Somehow or other, he felt that the moment wascritical. Then a hand was laid quietly upon his arm, a man's voicewhispered in his ear. 

"Monsieur will be so kind as to step this way for a moment--a littlematter of business. "

"Who are you?" Hunterleys demanded. 

"The Commissioner of Police, at monsieur's service. "

CHAPTER XI

HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS

Hunterleys, in accordance with his request, followed the Commissionerdownstairs into one of the small private rooms on the ground floor. Thelatter was very polite but very official. 

"Now what is it that you want?" Hunterleys asked, a little brusquely, assoon as they were alone. 

The representative of the law was distinctly mysterious. He had a brownmoustache which he continually twirled, and he was all the time droppinghis voice to a whisper. 

"My first introduction to you should explain my mission, Sir Henry, " hesaid. "I hold a high position in the police here. My business with you, however, is on behalf of a person whom I will not name, but whoseidentity you will doubtless guess. "

"Very well, " Hunterleys replied. "Now what is the nature of thismission, please? In plain words, what do you want with me?"

"I am here with reference to the affair of last night, " the otherdeclared. 

"The affair of last night?" Hunterleys repeated, frowning. "Well, we allhave to appear or be represented before the magistrates to-morrowmorning. I shall send a lawyer. "

"Quite so! Quite so! But in the meantime, something has transpired. Youand the young American, Mr. Richard Lane, were the only two who offeredany resistance. It was owing to you two, in fact, that the plot wasfrustrated. I am quite sure, Sir Henry, that every one agrees with me inappreciating your courage and presence of mind. "

"Thank you, " Hunterleys replied. "Is that what you came to say?"

The other shook his head. 

"Unfortunately, no, monsieur! I am here to bring you certaininformation. The chief of the gang, Armand Martin, the man whom youattacked, became suddenly worse a few hours ago. The doctors suspectinternal injuries, injuries inflicted during his struggle with you. "

"I am very sorry to hear it, " Hunterleys said coolly. "On the otherhand, he asked for anything he got. "

"Unfortunately, " the Commissioner continued, "the law of the State iscuriously framed in such matters. If the man should die, as seems morethan likely, your legal position, Sir Henry, would be mostuncomfortable. Your arrest would be a necessity, and there is no lawgranting what I believe you call bail to a person directly or indirectlyresponsible for the death of another. I am here, therefore, to give youwhat I may term an official warning. Your absence as a witness to-morrowmorning will not be commented upon--events of importance have called youback to England. You will thereby be saved a very large amount ofannoyance, and the authorities here will be spared the most regrettablenecessity of having to deal with you in a manner unbefitting your rank. "

Hunterleys became at once thoughtful. The whole matter was becomingclear to him. 

"I see, " he observed. "This is a warning to me to take my departure. Isthat so?"

The Commissioner beamed and nodded many times. 

"You have a quick understanding, Sir Henry, " he declared. "Yourdeparture to-night, or early to-morrow morning, would save a good dealof unpleasantness. I have fulfilled my mission, and I trust that youwill reflect seriously upon the matter. It is the wish of the highpersonage whom I represent, that no inconvenience whatever should befallso distinguished a visitor to the Principality. Good day, monsieur!"

The official took his leave with a sweep of the hat and many bows. Hunterleys, after a brief hesitation, walked out into the sun-dappledstreet. It was the most fashionable hour of the afternoon. Up in thesquare a band was playing. Outside, two or three smart automobiles weredischarging their freight of wonderfully-dressed women and debonair menfrom the villas outside. Suddenly a hand fell upon his arm. It wasRichard Lane who greeted him. 

"Say, where are you off to, Sir Henry?" he inquired. 

Hunterleys laughed a little shortly. 

"Really, I scarcely know, " he replied. "Back to London, if I am wise, Isuppose. "

"Come into the Club, " Richard begged. 

"I have just left, " Hunterleys told him. "Besides, I hate the place. "

"Did you happen to notice whether Mr. Grex was in there?" Richardenquired. 

"I didn't see him, " Hunterleys answered. "Neither, " he addedsignificantly, "did I see Miss Grex. "

"Well, I am going in to have a look round, anyway, " Richard decided. "You might come along. There's nothing else to do in this place untildinner-time. "

Hunterleys suffered himself to be persuaded and remounted the steps. 

"Tell me, Lane, " he asked curiously, "have you heard anything about anyof the victims of our little struggle last night--I mean the two men wetackled?"

Richard shook his head. 

"I hear that mine has a broken wrist, " he said. "Can't say I am feelingvery badly about that!"

"I've just been told that mine is going to die, " Hunterleys continued. 

The young man laughed incredulously. 

"Why, I went over the prison this morning, " he declared. "I never sawsuch a healthy lot of ruffians in my life. That chap whom youtackled--the one with the revolver--was smoking cigarettes and usinglanguage--well, I couldn't understand it all, but what I did understandwas enough to melt the bars of his prison. "

"That's odd, " Hunterleys remarked drily. "According to the policecommissioner who has just left me, the man is on his death-bed, and myonly chance of escaping serious trouble is to get out of Monte Carloto-night. "

"Are you going?"

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"It would take a great deal more than that to move me just now, " hesaid, "even if I had not suspected from the first that the man waslying. "

Richard glanced at his companion a little curiously. 

"I shouldn't have said that you were having such a good time, SirHenry, " he observed; "in fact I should have thought you would have beenrather glad of an opportunity to slip away. "

Hunterleys looked around them. They had reached the top of the staircaseand were in sight of the dense crowd in the rooms. 

"Come and have a drink, " he suggested. "A great many of these peoplewill have cleared off presently. "

"I'll have a drink, with pleasure, " Richard answered, "but I still can'tsee why you're stuck on this place. "

They strolled into the bar and found two vacant places. 

"My dear young friend, " Hunterleys said, as he ordered their drinks, "ifyou were an Englishman instead of an American, I think that I would giveyou a hint as to the reason why I do not wish to leave Monte Carlo justat present. "

"Can't see what difference that makes, " Richard declared. "You know I'mall for the old country. "

"I wonder whether you are, " Hunterleys remarked thoughtfully. "I tellyou frankly that if I thought you meant it, I should probably come toyou before long for a little help. "

"If ever you do, I'm your man, " Richard assured him heartily. "Any morescraps going?"

Hunterleys sipped his whisky and soda thoughtfully. There had been anexodus from the room to watch some heavy gambling at _Trente etQuarante_, and for a moment they were almost alone. 

"Lane, " he said, "I am going to take you a little into my confidence. Ina way I suppose it is foolish, but to tell you the truth, I am almostdriven to it. You know that I am a Member of Parliament, and you mayhave heard that if our Party hadn't gone out a few years ago, I was tohave been Foreign Minister. "

"I've heard that often enough, " Lane assented. "I've heard you quoted, too, as an example of the curse of party politics. Just because you areforced to call yourself a member of one Party you are debarred fromserving your country in any capacity until that Party is in power. "

"That's quite true, " Hunterleys admitted, "and to tell you the truth, ridiculous though it seems, I don't see how you're to get away from itin a practical manner. Anyhow, when my people came out I made up my mindthat I wasn't going to just sit still in Opposition and find fault allthe time, especially as we've a real good man at the Foreign Office. Iwas quite content to leave things in his hands, but then, you see, politically that meant that there was nothing for me to do. I thoughtmatters over and eventually I paired for six months and was supposed togo off for the benefit of my health. As a matter of fact, I have been inthe Balkan States since Christmas, " he added, dropping his voice alittle. 

"What the dickens have you been doing there?"

"I can't tell you that exactly, " Hunterleys replied. "Unfortunately, myenemies are suspicious and they have taken to watching me closely. Theypretty well know what I am going to tell you--that I have been out thereat the urgent request of the Secret Service Department of the presentGovernment. I have been in Greece and Servia and Roumania, and, althoughI don't think there's a soul in the world knows, I have also been in St. Petersburg. "

"But what's it all about?" Richard persisted. "What have you been doingin all these places?"

"I can only answer you broadly, " Hunterleys went on. "There is aperfectly devilish scheme afloat, directed against the old country. Ihave been doing what I can to counteract it. At the last moment, just asI was leaving Sofia for London, by the merest chance I discovered thatthe scene for the culmination of this little plot was to be Monte Carlo, so I made my way round by Trieste, stayed at Bordighera and San Remo fora few days to put people off, and finally turned up here. "

"Well, I'm jiggered!" Lane muttered. "And I thought you were justhanging about for your health or because your wife was here, and werebored to death for want of something to do. "

"On the contrary, " Hunterleys assured him, "I was up all night sendingreports home--very interesting reports, too. I got them away all right, but there's no denying the fact that there are certain people in MonteCarlo at the present moment who suspect my presence here, and who wouldgo to any lengths whatever to get rid of me. It isn't the actual harm Imight do, but they have to deal with a very delicate problem and to makea bargain with a very sensitive person, and they are terribly afraidthat my presence here, and a meeting between me and that person, mightrender all their schemes abortive. "

Richard's face was a study in astonishment. 

"Well, " he exclaimed, "this beats everything! I've read of such things, of course, but one only half believes them. Right under our very noses, too! Say, what are you going to do about it, Sir Henry?"

"There is only one thing I can do, " Hunterleys replied grimly. "I ambound to keep my place here. They'll drive me out if they can. I amconvinced that the polite warning I have received to leave Monaco thisafternoon because of last night's affair, is part of the conspiracy. Inplain words, I've got to stick it out. "

"But what good are you doing here, anyway?"

Hunterleys smiled and glanced carefully around the room. They were stillfree from any risk of being overheard. 

"Well, " he said, "perhaps you will understand my meaning more clearly ifI tell you that I am the brains of a counterplot. The English SecretService has a permanent agent here under the guise of a newspapercorrespondent, who is in daily touch with me, and he in his turn hasseveral spies at work. I am, however, the dangerous person. The othersare only servants. They make their reports, but they don't understandtheir true significance. If these people could remove me before any oneelse could arrive to take my place, their chances of bringing off theircoup here would be immensely improved. "

"I suppose it's useless for me to ask if there's anything I can do tohelp?" Richard enquired. 

"You've helped already, " Hunterleys replied. "I have been nearly threemonths without being able to open my lips to a soul. People call mesecretive, but I feel very human sometimes. I know that not a word ofwhat I have said will pass your lips. "

"Not a chance of it, " Richard promised earnestly. "But look here, can'tI do something? If I am not an Englishman, I'm all for the Anglo-Saxons. I hate these foreigners--that is to say the men, " he corrected himselfhastily. 

Hunterleys smiled. 

"Well, I was coming to that, " he said. "I do feel hideously alone here, and what I would like you to do is just this. I would like you to callat my room at the Hotel de Paris, number 189, every morning at a certainfixed hour--say half-past ten. Just shake hands with me--that's all. Nothing shall prevent my being visible to you at that hour. Under noconsideration whatever will I leave any message that I am engaged orhave gone out. If I am not to be seen when you make your call, somethinghas happened to me. "

"And what am I to do then?"

"That is the point, " Hunterleys continued. "I don't want to bring youtoo deeply into this matter. All that you need do is to make your way tothe English Bank, see Mr. Harrison, the manager, and tell him of yourfruitless visit to me. He will give you a letter to my wife and willknow what other steps to take. "

"Is that all?" Richard asked, a little disappointed. "You don'tanticipate any scrapping, or anything of that sort?"

"I don't know what to anticipate, " Hunterleys confessed, a littlewearily. "Things are moving fast now towards the climax. I promise I'llcome to you for help if I need it. You can but refuse. "

"No fear of my refusing, " Richard declared heartily. "Not on your life, sir!"

Hunterleys rose to his feet with an appreciative little nod. It wasastonishing how cordially he had come to feel towards this young man, during the last few hours. 

"I'll let you off now, " he said. "I know you want to look around thetables and see if any of our friends of last night are to be found. I, too, have a little affair which I ought to have treated differently afew minutes ago. We'll meet later. "

Hunterleys strolled back into the rooms. He came almost at once face toface with Draconmeyer, whom he was passing with unseeing eyes. Draconmeyer, however, detained him. 

"I was looking for you, Sir Henry!" he exclaimed. "Can you spare me onemoment?"

They stood a little on one side, out of the way of the moving throng ofpeople. Draconmeyer was fingering nervously his tie of somewhat vividpurple. His manner was important. 

"Do you happen, Sir Henry, " he asked, "to have had any word from theprison authorities to-day?"

Hunterleys nodded. 

"I have just received a message, " he replied. "I understand that the manwith whom I had a struggle last night has received some internalinjuries and is likely to die. "

Draconmeyer's manner became more mysterious. He glanced around the roomas though to be sure that they were not overheard. 

"I trust, Sir Henry, " he said, "that you will not think me in any waypresumptuous if I speak to you intimately. I have never had theprivilege of your friendship, and in this unfortunate disagreementbetween your wife and yourself I have been compelled to accept yourwife's point of view, owing to the friendship between Mrs. Draconmeyerand herself. I trust you will believe, however, that I have no feelingsof hostility towards you. "

"You are very kind, " Hunterleys murmured. 

His face seemed set in graven lines. For all the effect the other'swords had upon him, he might have been wearing a mask. 

"The law here in some respects is very curious, " Draconmeyer continued. "Some of the statutes have been unaltered for a thousand years. I havebeen given to understand by a person who knows, that if this man shoulddie, notwithstanding the circumstances of the case, you might findyourself in an exceedingly awkward position. If I might venture, therefore, to give you a word of disinterested advice, I would suggestthat you return to England at once, if only for a week or so. "

His eyes had narrowed. Through his spectacles he was watching intentlyfor the effect of his words. Hunterleys, however, only noddedthoughtfully, as though to some extent impressed by the advice he hadreceived. 

"Very likely you are right, " he admitted. "I will discuss the matterwith my wife. "

"She is playing over there, " Draconmeyer pointed out. "And while we aretalking in a more or less friendly fashion, " he went on earnestly, "might I give you just one more word of counsel? For the sake of thefriendship which exists between our wives, I feel sure you will believethat I am disinterested. "

He paused. Hunterleys' expression was now one of polite interest. Hewaited, however, for the other to continue. 

"I wish that you could persuade Lady Hunterleys to play for somewhatlower stakes. "

Hunterleys was genuinely startled for a moment. 

"Do you mean that my wife is gambling beyond her means?" he asked. 

Draconmeyer shrugged his shoulders. 

"How can I tell that? I don't know what her means are, or yours. I onlyknow that she changes mille notes more often than I change louis, and itseems to me that her luck is invariably bad. I think, perhaps, just aword or two from you, who have the right to speak, might be of service. "

"I am very much obliged to you for the hint, " Hunterleys said smoothly. "I will certainly mention the matter to her. "

"And if I don't see you again, " Draconmeyer concluded, watching himclosely, "good-bye!"

Hunterleys did not appear to notice the tentative movement of theother's hand. He was already on his way to the spot where his wife wassitting. Draconmeyer watched his progress with inscrutable face. Selingman, who had been sitting near, rose and joined him. 

"Will he go?" he whispered. "Will our friend take this very reasonablehint and depart?"

Draconmeyer's eyes were still fixed upon Hunterleys' slim, self-possessed figure. His forehead was contorted into a frown. Somehowor other, he felt that during their brief interview he had failed toscore; he had felt a subtle, underlying note of contempt in Hunterleys'manner, in his whole attitude. 

"I do not know, " he replied grimly. "I only hope that if he stays, weshall find the means to make him regret it!"

CHAPTER XII

"I CANNOT GO!"

Hunterleys stood for several minutes, watching his wife's play from anew point of view. She was certainly playing high and with continuedill-fortune. For the first time, too, he noticed symptoms whichdisturbed him. She sat quite motionless, but there was an unfamiliarglitter in her eyes and a hardness about her mouth. It was not until hehad stood within a few feet of her for nearly a quarter of an hour, thatshe chanced to see him. 

"Did you want me?" she asked, with a little start. 

"There is no hurry, " he replied. "If you could spare me a few momentslater, I should be glad. "

She rose at once, thrusting her notes and gold into the satchel whichshe was carrying, and stood by his side. She was very elegantly dressedin black and white, but she was pale, and, watching her with a newintentness, he discovered faint violet lines under her eyes, as thoughshe had been sleeping ill. 

"I am rather glad you came, " she said. "I was having an abominable runof bad luck, and yet I hated to give up my seat without an excuse. Whatdid you want, Henry?"

"I should like, " he explained, "to talk to you for a quarter of an hour. This place is rather crowded and it is getting on my nerves. We seem tolive here, night and day. Would you object to driving with me--say asfar as Mentone and back?"

"I will come if you wish it, " she answered, looking a little surprised. "Wait while I get my cloak. "

Hunterleys hired an automobile below and they drove off. As soon as theywere out of the main street, he thrust his hand into the breast-pocketof his coat and smoothed out that half-sheet of notepaper upon his knee. 

"Violet, " he said, "please read that. "

She read the few lines instructing the English Bank to hand over SirHenry Hunterleys' letters to the bearer. Then she looked up at him witha puzzled frown. 

"I don't understand. "

"Did you write that?" he enquired. 

She looked at him indignantly. 

"What an absurd question!" she exclaimed. "Your correspondence has nointerest for me. "

Her denial, so natural, so obviously truthful, was a surprise to him. Hefelt a sudden impulse of joy, mingled with shame. Perhaps, after all, hehad been altogether too censorious. Once more he directed her attentionto the sheet of paper. There was a marked change in his voice andmanner. 

"Violet, " he begged, "please look at it. Accepting without hesitationyour word that you did not write it, doesn't it occur to you that thebody of the letter is a distinct imitation of your handwriting, and thesignature a very clever forgery of mine?"

"It is rather like my handwriting, " she admitted, "and as for thesignature, do you mean to say really that that is not yours?"

"Certainly not, " he assured her. "The whole thing is a forgery. "

"But who in the world should want to get your letters?" she askedincredulously. "And why should you have them addressed to the bank?"

He folded up the paper then and put it in his pocket. 

"Violet, " he said earnestly, "for the disagreements which have resultedin our separation I may myself have been to some extent responsible, butwe have promised one another not to refer to them again and I will notbreak our compact. All I can say is that there is much in my life whichyou know little of, and for which you do not, therefore, make sufficientallowance. "

"Then you might have treated me, " she declared, "with more confidence. "

"It was not possible, " he reminded her, "so long as you chose to make anintimate friend of a man whose every interest in life is in directantagonism to mine. "

"Mr. Draconmeyer?"

"Mr. Draconmeyer, " he assented. 

She smiled contemptuously. 

"You misunderstand Mr. Draconmeyer completely, " she insisted. "He isyour well-wisher and he is more than half an Englishman. It was he whostarted the league between English and German commercial men for thepropagation of peace. He formed one of the deputation who went over tosee the Emperor. He has done more, both by his speeches and letters tothe newspaper, to promote a good understanding between Germany andEngland, than any other person. You are very much mistaken about Mr. Draconmeyer, Henry. Why you cannot realise that he is simply an ordinarycommercial man of high intelligence and most agreeable manners, I cannotimagine. "

"The fact remains, my dear Violet, " Hunterleys said emphatically, "thatit is not possible for me to treat you with the confidence I mightotherwise have done, on account of your friendship with Mr. Draconmeyer. "

"You are incorrigible!" she exclaimed. "Can we change the subject, please? I want to know why you showed me that forged letter?"

"I am coming to that, " he told her. "Please be patient. I want to remindyou of something else. So far as I remember, my only request, when Igave you your liberty and half my income, was that your friendship withthe Draconmeyers should decrease. Almost the first persons I see on myarrival in Monte Carlo are you and Mr. Draconmeyer. I learn that youcame out with them and that you are staying at the same hotel. "

"Your wish was an unreasonable one, " she protested. "Linda and I wereschool-girls together. She is my dearest friend and she is a hopelessinvalid. I think that if I were to desert her she would die. "

"I have every sympathy with Mrs. Draconmeyer, " he said slowly, "but youare my wife. I am going to make one more effort--please don't beuneasy--not to re-establish any relationship between us, but to openyour eyes as to the truth concerning Mr. Draconmeyer. You asked me amoment ago why I had shown you that forged letter. I will tell you now. It was Draconmeyer who was the forger. "

She leaned back in her seat. She was looking at him incredulously. 

"You mean to say that Mr. Draconmeyer wrote that order--that he wantedto get possession of your letters?"

"Not only that, " Hunterleys continued, "but he carried out the businessin such a devilish manner as to make me for a moment believe that it wasyou who had helped him. You are wrong about Draconmeyer. The man is agreat schemer, who under the pretence of occupying an importantcommercial position in the City of London, is all the time a secretagent of Germany. He is there in her interests. He studies the publicopinion of the country. He dissects our weaknesses. He is there to pointout the best methods and the opportune time for the inevitable struggle. He is the worst enemy to-day England has. You think that he is here inMonte Carlo on a visit of pleasure--for the sake of his wife, perhaps. Nothing of the sort! He is here at this moment associated with aniniquitous scheme, the particulars of which I can tell you nothing of. Furthermore, I repeat what I told you on our first meeting here--that inhis still, cold way he is in love with you. "

"Henry!" she cried. 

"I cannot see how you can remain so wilfully blind, " Hunterleyscontinued. "I know the man inside out. I warned you against him inLondon, I warn you against him now. This forged letter was designed todraw us further apart. The little brown man who has dogged yourfootsteps is a spy employed by him to make you believe that I was havingyou watched. You are free still to act as you will, Violet, but if youhave a spark of regard for me or yourself, you will go back to London atonce and drop this odious friendship. "

She leaned back in the car. They had turned round now and were on theway back to Monte Carlo by the higher road. She sat with her eyes fixedupon the mountains. Her heart, in a way, had been touched, herimagination stirred by her husband's words. She felt a return of thatglow of admiration which had thrilled her on the previous night, when heand Richard Lane alone amongst that motley company had played the partof men. A curious, almost pathetic wistfulness crept into her heart. Ifonly he would lean towards her at that moment, if she could see oncemore the light in his eyes that had shone there during the days of theircourtship! If only he could remember that it was still his part to playthe lover! If he could be a little less grave, a little less hopelesslycorrect and fair! Despite her efforts to disbelieve, there was somethingconvincing about his words. At any moment during that brief space oftime, a single tremulous word, even a warm clasp of the hand, would havebrought her into his arms. But so much of inspiration was denied him. Hesat waiting for her decision with an eagerness of which he gave no sign. Nevertheless, the fates were fighting for him. She thought gratefully, even at that moment, yet with less enthusiasm than ever before, of thedevout homage, the delightful care for her happiness and comfort, theatmosphere of security with which Draconmeyer seemed always to surroundher. Yet all this was cold and unsatisfying, a poor substitute for theother things. Henry had been different once. Perhaps it was jealousywhich had altered him. Perhaps his misconception of Draconmeyer'scharacter had affected his whole outlook. She turned towards him, andher voice, when she spoke, was no longer querulous. 

"Henry, " she said, "I cannot admit the truth of all that you sayconcerning Mr. Draconmeyer, but tell me this. If I were willing to leavethis place to-night--"

She paused. For some reason a sudden embarrassment had seized her. Thewords seemed to come with difficulty. She turned ever so slightly awayfrom him. There was a tinge of colour at last in her pale cheeks. Sheseemed to him now, as she leaned a little forward in her seat, completely beautiful. 

"If I make my excuses and leave Monte Carlo to-night, " she went on, "will you come with me?"

He gave a little start. Something in his eyes flashed an answer into herface. And then the flood of memory came. There was his mission. He wastied hand and foot. 

"It is good of you to offer that, Violet, " he declared. "If I could--ifonly I could!"

Already her manner began to change. The fear of his refusal was hateful, her lips were trembling. 

"You mean, " she faltered, "that you will not come? Listen. Don'tmisunderstand me. I will order my boxes packed, I will catch the eighto'clock train either through to London or to Paris--anywhere. I will dothat if you will come. There is my offer. That is my reply to all thatyou have said about Mr. Draconmeyer. I shall lose a friend who has beengentleness and kindness and consideration itself. I will risk that. Whatdo you say? Will you come?"

"Violet, I cannot, " he replied hoarsely. "No, don't turn away likethat!" he begged. "Don't change so quickly, please! It isn't fair. Listen. I am not my own master. "

"Not your own master?" she repeated incredulously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I am here in Monte Carlo not for my own pleasure. I meanthat I have work, a purpose--"

"Absurd!" she interrupted him, almost harshly. "There is nobody who hasany better claim upon you than I have. You are over-conscientious aboutother things. For once remember your duty as a husband. "

He caught her wrist. 

"You must trust me a little, " he pleaded. "Believe me that I reallyappreciate your offer. If I were free to go, I should not hesitate for asingle second. .. . Can't you trust me, Violet?" he implored, his voicesoftening. 

The woman within her was fighting on his side. She stifled her woundedfeelings, crushed down her disappointment that he had not taken her atonce into his arms and answered her upon her lips. 

"Trust me, then, " she replied. "If you refuse my offer, don't hint atthings you have to do. Tell me in plain words why. It is not enough foryou to say that you cannot leave Monte Carlo. Tell me why you cannot. Ihave invited you to escort me anywhere you will--I, your wife. .. . Shallwe go?"

The woman had wholly triumphed. Her voice had dropped, the light was inher eyes. She swayed a little towards him. His brain reeled. She wasonce more the only woman in the world for him. Once more he fancied thathe could feel the clinging of her arms, the touch of her lips. Thesethings were promised in her face. 

"I tell you that I cannot go!" he cried sharply. "Believe me--do believeme, Violet!"

She pulled down her veil suddenly. He caught at her hand. It laypassively in his. He pleaded for her confidence, but the moment ofinspiration had gone. She heard him with the air of one who listens nolonger. Presently she stopped him. 

"Don't speak to me for several minutes, please, " she begged. "Tell himto put me down at the hotel. I can't go back to the Club just yet. "

"You mustn't leave me like this, " he insisted. 

"Will you tell me why you refuse my offer?" she asked. 

"I have a trust!"

The automobile had come to a standstill. She rose to her feet. 

"I was once your trust, " she reminded him, as she passed into the hotel. 

CHAPTER XIII

MISS GREX AT HOME

Richard Lane, as he made his way up the avenue towards the Villa Mimosa, wondered whether he was not indeed finding his way into fairyland. Oneither side of him were drooping mimosa trees, heavy with the snaky, orange-coloured blossom whose perfumes hung heavy upon the windless air. In the background, bordering the gardens which were themselves a maze ofcolour, were great clumps of glorious purple rhododendrons, droopingclusters of red and white roses. A sudden turn revealed a long pergola, smothered in pink blossoms and leading to the edge of the terrace whichoverhung the sea. The villa itself, which seemed, indeed, more like apalace, was covered with vivid purple clematis, and from the open doorof the winter-garden, which was built out from the front of the place ina great curve, there came, as he drew near, a bewildering breath ofexotic odours. The front-door was wide open, and before he could reachthe bell a butler had appeared. 

"Is Mr. Grex at home?" Richard enquired. 

"Mr. Grex is not at home, sir, " was the immediate reply. 

"I should like to see Miss Grex, then, " Richard proceeded. 

The man's face was curiously expressionless, but a momentary silenceperhaps betrayed as much surprise as he was capable of showing. 

"Miss Grex is not at home, sir, " he announced. 

Richard hesitated and just then she came out from the winter-garden. Shewas wearing a pink linen morning gown and a floppy pink hat. She had abook under her arm and a parasol swinging from her fingers. When she sawLane, she stared at him in amazement. He advanced a step or two towardsher, his hat in his hand. 

"I took the liberty of calling to see your father, Miss Grex, " heexplained. "As he was not at home, I ventured to enquire for you. "

She was absolutely helpless. It was impossible to ignore hisoutstretched hand. Very hesitatingly she held out her fingers, whichRichard grasped and seemed in no hurry at all to release. 

"This is quite the most beautiful place I have seen anywhere near MonteCarlo, " he remarked enthusiastically. 

"I am glad, " she murmured, "that you find it attractive. "

He was standing by her side now, his hat under his arm. The butler hadwithdrawn a little into the background. She glanced around. 

"Did my father ask you to call, Mr. Lane?" she enquired, dropping hervoice a little. 

"He did not, " Richard confessed. "I must say that I gave him plenty ofopportunities but he did not seem to be what I should call hospitablyinclined. In any case, it really doesn't matter. I came to see you. "

She bit her lip, struggling hard to repress a smile. 

"But I did not ask you to call upon me either, " she reminded himgravely. 

"Well, that's true, " Lane admitted, a little hesitatingly. "I don'tquite know how things are done over here. Say, are you English, orFrench, or what?" he asked, point blank. "I have been puzzling aboutthat ever since I saw you. "

"I am not sure that my nationality matters, " she observed. 

"Well, over on the other side, " he continued, --"I mean America, ofcourse--if we make up our minds that we want to see something of a girland there isn't any real reason why one shouldn't, then the initiativegenerally rests with the man. Of course, if you are an only daughter, Ican quite understand your father being a bit particular, not caring formen callers and that sort of thing, but that can't go on for ever, youknow, can it?"

"Can't it?" she murmured, a little dazed. 

"I have a habit, " he confided, "of making up my mind quickly, and when Idecide about a thing, I am rather hard to turn. Well, I made up my mindabout you the first moment we met. "

"About me?" she repeated. 

"About you. "

She turned and looked at him almost wonderingly. He was very big andvery confident; good to look upon, less because of his actual good looksthan because of a certain honesty and tenacity of purpose in hisexpression; a strength of jaw, modified and rendered even pleasant bythe kindness and humour of his clear grey eyes. He returned her gazewithout embarrassment and he wondered less than ever at finding himselfthere. Her complexion in this clear light seemed more beautiful thanever. Her rich golden-brown hair was waved becomingly over her forehead. Her eyebrows were silky and delicately straight, her mouth delightful. Her figure was girlish, but unusually dignified for her years. 

"You know, " he said suddenly, "you look to me just like one of thosebeautiful plants you have in the conservatory there, just as thoughyou'd stepped out of your little glass home and blossomed right here. Iam almost afraid of you. "

She laughed outright this time--a low, musical laugh which had in itsomething of foreign intonation. 

"Well, really, " she exclaimed, "I had not noticed your fear! I was justthinking that you were quite the boldest young man I have ever met. "

"Come, that's something!" he declared. "Couldn't we sit down somewherein these wonderful gardens of yours and talk?"

She shook her head. 

"But have I not told you already, " she protested, "that I do not receivecallers? Neither does my father. Really, your coming here is quiteunwarrantable. If he should return at this moment and find you here, hewould be very angry indeed. I am afraid that he would even be rude, andI, too, should suffer for having allowed you to talk with me. "

"Let's hope that he doesn't return just yet, then, " Richard observed, smiling easily. "I am very good-tempered as a rule, but I do not likepeople to be rude to me. "

"Fortunately, he cannot return for at least an hour--" she began. 

"Then we'll sit down on that terrace, if you please, for just a quarterof that time, " he begged. 

She opened her lips and closed them again. He was certainly a verystubborn young man!

"Well, " she sighed, "perhaps it will be the easiest way of getting ridof you. "

She motioned him to follow her. The butler, from a discreet distance, watched her as though he were looking at a strange thing. Round thecorner of the villa remote from the winter-garden, was a long stoneterrace upon which many windows opened. Screened from the wind, the sunhere was of almost midsummer strength. There was no sound. The greathouse seemed asleep. There was nothing but the droning of a few insects. Even the birds were songless. The walls were covered with droopingclematis and roses, roses that twined over the balustrades. Below themwas a tangle of mimosa trees and rhododendrons, and further below stillthe blue Mediterranean. She sank into a chair. 

"You may sit here, " she said, "just long enough for me to convince youthat your coming was a mistake. Indeed that is so. I do not wish to seemfoolish or unkind, but my father and I are living here with oneunbreakable rule, and that is that we make no acquaintances whatsoever. "

"That sounds rather queer, " he remarked. "Don't you find it dull?"

"If I do, " she went on, "it is only for a little time. My father is herefor a certain purpose, and as soon as that is accomplished we shall goaway. For him to accomplish that purpose in a satisfactory manner, it isnecessary that we should live as far apart as possible from the ordinaryvisitors here. "

"Sounds like a riddle, " he admitted. "Do you mind telling me of whatnationality you are?"

"I see no reason why I should tell you anything. "

"You speak such correct English, " he continued, "but there is just alittle touch of accent. You don't know how attractive it sounds. Youdon't know--"

He hesitated, suddenly losing some part of his immense confidence. 

"What else is there that I do not know?" she asked, with a faintlyamused smile. 

"I have lost my courage, " he confessed simply. "I do not want to offendyou, I do not want you to think that I am hopelessly foolish, but yousee I have the misfortune to be in love with you. "

She laughed at him, leaning back in her chair with half-closed eyes. 

"Do people talk like this to casual acquaintances in your country?" sheasked. 

"They speak sometimes a language which is common to all countries, " hereplied quickly. "The only thing that is peculiar to my people is thatwhen we say it, it is the sober and the solemn truth. "

She was silent for a moment. She had plucked one of the blossoms fromthe wall and was pulling to pieces its purple petals. 

"Do you know, " she said, "that no young man has ever dared to talk to meas you have done?"

"That is because no one yet has cared so much as I do, " he assured her. "I can quite understand their being frightened. I am terribly afraid ofyou myself. I am afraid of the things I say to you, but I have to saythem because they are in my heart, and if I am only to have a quarter ofan hour with you now, you see I must make the best use of my time. Imust tell you that there isn't any other girl in the world I could everlook at again, and if you won't promise to marry me some day, I shall bethe most wretched person on earth. "

"I can never, never marry you, " she told him emphatically. "There isnothing which is so impossible as that. "

"Well, that's a pretty bad start, " he admitted. 

"It is the end, " she said firmly. 

He shook his head. There was a terrible obstinacy in his face. Shefrowned at him. 

"You do not mean that you will persist after what I have told you?"

He looked at her, almost surprised. 

"There isn't anything else for me to do, that I know of, " he declared, "so long as you don't care for any one else. Tell me again, you are surethat there is no one?"

"Certainly not, " she replied stiffly. "The subject has not yet been madeacceptable to me. You must forgive my adding that in my country it isnot usual for a girl to discuss these matters with a man before herbetrothal. "

"Say, I don't understand that, " he murmured, looking at herthoughtfully. "She can't get engaged before she is asked. "

"The preliminaries, " she explained, "are always arranged by one'sparents. "

He smiled pityingly. 

"That sort of thing's no use, " he asserted confidently. "You must begetting past that, in whatever corner of Europe you live. What you meanto say, then, is that your father has some one up his sleeve whom he'lltrot out for you before long?"

"Without doubt, some arrangement will be proposed, " she agreed. 

"And you'll have to be amiable to some one you've never seen in yourlife before, I suppose?" he persisted. 

"Not necessarily. It sometimes happens, in my position, " she went on, raising her head, "that certain sacrifices are necessary. "

"In your position, " he repeated quickly. "What does that mean? Youaren't a queen, are you, or anything of that sort?"

She laughed. 

"No, " she confessed, "I am not a queen, and yet--"

"And yet?"

"You must go back, " she insisted, rising abruptly to her feet. "Thequarter of an hour is up. I do not feel happy, sitting here talking withyou. Really, if my father were to return he would be more angry with methan he has ever been in his life. This sort of thing is not doneamongst my people. "

"Little lady, " he said, gently forcing her back into her place, "believeme, it's done all the world over, and there isn't any girl can come toany harm by being told that a man is fond of her when it's the truth, when he'd give his life for her willingly. It's just like that I feelabout you. I've never felt it before. I could never feel it for any oneelse. And I am not going to give you up. "

She was looking at him half fearfully. There was a little colour in hercheeks, her eyes were suddenly moist. 

"I think, " she murmured, "that you talk very nicely. I think I mighteven say that I like to hear you talk. But it is so useless. Won't yougo now? Won't you please go now?"

"When may I come again?" he begged. 

"Never, " she replied firmly. "You must never come again. You must noteven think of it. But indeed you would not be admitted. They willprobably tell my father of your visit, as it is, and he will be veryangry. "

"Well, when can I see you, then, and where?" he demanded. "I hope youunderstand that I am not in the least disheartened by anything you havesaid. "

"I think, " she declared, "that you are the most persistent person I evermet. "

"It is only, " he whispered, leaning a little towards her, "because Icare for you so much. "

She was suddenly confused, conscious of a swift desire to get rid ofhim. It was as though some one were speaking a new language. All her oldhabits and prejudices seemed falling away. 

"I cannot make appointments with you, " she protested, her voice shaking. "I cannot encourage you in any way. It is really quite impossible. "

"If I go now, will you be at the Club to-morrow afternoon?" he pleaded. 

"I am not sure, " she replied. "It is very likely that I may be there. Imake no promise. "

He took her hand abruptly, and, stooping down, forced her to look intohis eyes. 

"You will be there to-morrow afternoon, please, " he begged, "and youwill give me the rose from your waistband. "

She laughed uneasily. 

"If the rose will buy your departure--" she began. 

"It may do that, " he interrupted, as he drew it through his buttonhole, "but it will assuredly bring me back again. "

 * * * * *

Richard walked down the hill, whistling softly to himself and with acurious light in his eyes. As he reached the square in front of theCasino, he was accosted by a stranger who stood in the middle of thepavement and respectfully removed his hat. 

"You are Mr. Richard Lane, is it not so, monsieur?"

"You've guessed it in one, " Richard admitted. "Have I ever seen youbefore?"

"Never, monsieur, unless you happened to notice me on your visit to theprison. I have an official position in the Principality. I amcommissioned to speak to you with respect to the little affair in whichyou were concerned at La Turbie. "

"Well, I thought we'd thrashed all that out, " Lane replied. "Anyway, SirHenry Hunterleys and I have engaged a lawyer to look after ourinterests. "

"Just so, " the little man murmured. "A very clever man indeed isMonsieur Grisson. Still, there is a view of the matter, " he continued, "which is perhaps hard for you Englishmen and Americans to understand. Assault of any description is very severely punished here, especiallywhen it results in bodily injury. Theft of all sorts, on the other hand, is very common indeed. The man whom you injured is a native of MonteCarlo. To a certain extent, the Principality is bound to protect him. "

"Why, the fellow was engaged in a flagrant attempt at highway robbery!"Richard declared, genuinely astonished. 

His companion stretched out his hands. 

"Monsieur, " he replied, "every one robs here, whether they areshop-keepers, restaurant keepers, or loafers upon the streets. Thepeople expect it. At the adjourned trial next week there will be manywitnesses who are also natives of Monte Carlo. I have been commissionedto warn monsieur. It would be best, on the whole, if he left Monte Carloby the next train. "

"Why in the name of mischief should I do that?" Richard demanded. 

"In the first place, " the other pointed out, "because this man, whom youtreated a little roughly, has many friends and associates. They havesworn revenge. You are even now being followed about, and the police ofthe Principality have enough to do without sparing an escort to protectyou against violence. In the second place, I am not at all sure that thefinding of the court next week will be altogether to your satisfaction. "

"Do you mean this?" Richard asked incredulously. 

"Without a doubt, monsieur. "

"Then all I can say, " Richard declared, "is that your magistrate orjudge, or whatever he calls himself, is a rotter, and your laws absurd. I sha'n't budge. "

"It is in your own interests, monsieur, this warning, " the otherpersisted. "Even if you escape these desperadoes, you still run somerisk of discovering what the inside of a prison in Monaco is like. "

"I think not, " Lane answered grimly. "If there's anything of that sortgoing about, I shall board my yacht yonder and hoist the Stars andStripes. I shall take some getting into prison, I can tell you, and if Ionce get there, you'll hear about it. "

"Monsieur will be much wiser to avoid trouble, " the official advised. 

Lane placed his hand upon the other's shoulder. 

"My friend, " he said, "not you or a dozen like you could make me stirfrom this place until I am ready, and just now I am very far from ready. See? You can go and tell those who sent you, what I say. "

The emissary of the law shrugged his shoulders. His manner was stiff butresigned. 

"I have delivered my message, monsieur, " he announced. "Monsieurnaturally must decide for himself. "

He disappeared with a bow. Richard continued on his way and a fewminutes later ran into Hunterleys. 

"Say, did you ever hear such cheek!" he exclaimed, passing his armthrough the latter's. "A little bounder stopped me in the street and hasbeen trying to frighten me into leaving Monte Carlo, just because Ibroke that robber's wrist. Same Johnny that came to you, I expect. Whatare they up to, anyway? What do they want to get rid of us for? Theyought to be jolly grateful. "

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"So far as I am concerned, " he said, "their reasons for wanting to getrid of me are fairly obvious, I am afraid, but I must say I don't knowwhere you come in, unless--"

He stopped short. 

"Well, unless what?" Richard interposed. "I should just like to know whoit is trying to get me kicked out. "

"Can't you guess?" Hunterleys asked. "There is one person who I thinkwould be quite as well pleased to see the back of you. "

"Here in Monte Carlo?"

"Absolutely!"

Richard was mystified. 

"You are not very bright, I am afraid, " Hunterleys observed. "What aboutyour friend Mr. Grex?"

Richard whistled softly. 

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I am, " Hunterleys assured him. 

"But has he any pull here, this Mr. Grex?"

Hunterleys' eyes twinkled for a moment. 

"Yes, " he replied, "I think that Mr. Grex has very considerableinfluence in this part of the world, and he is a man who, I should say, was rather used to having his own way. "

"I gathered that I wasn't exactly popular with him this afternoon, "Richard remarked meditatively. "I've been out there to call. "

Hunterleys stopped short upon the pavement. 

"What?" he exclaimed. 

"I have been out to call at the Villa Mimosa, " Richard repeated. "Idon't see anything extraordinary in that. "

"Did you see--Miss Fedora?"

"Rather! And thank you for telling me her name, at any rate. We sat onthe terrace and chatted for a quarter of an hour. She gave me tounderstand, though, that the old man was dead against me. It all seemsvery mysterious. Anyway, she gave me this rose I am wearing, and I thinkshe'll be at the Club to-morrow afternoon. "

Hunterleys was silent for a moment. He seemed much impressed. 

"You know, Richard, " he declared, "there is something akin to genius inyour methods. "

"That's all very well, " the young man protested, "but can you give me asingle solid reason why, considering I am in love with the girl, Ishouldn't go and call upon her? Who is this Mr. Grex, anyway?"

"I've a good mind to tell you, " Hunterleys said meditatively. 

"I don't care whether you do or not, " Lane pronounced firmly, as theyparted. "I don't care whether Mr. Grex is the Sultan of Turkey or theCzar of Russia. I'm going to marry his daughter. That's settled. "

CHAPTER XIV

DINNER FOR TWO

At a few minutes before eight o'clock that evening Lady Hunterleysdescended the steps of the Casino and crossed the square towards theHotel de Paris. She walked very slowly and she looked neither to theright nor to the left. She had the air of seeing no one. Sheacknowledged mechanically the low bow of the commissionaire who openedthe door for her. A reception clerk who stood on one side to let herpass, she ignored altogether. She crossed the hall to the lift andpressed the bell. Draconmeyer, who had been lounging in an easy-chairwaiting for her, watched her entrance and noticed her abstracted mannerwith kindling eyes. He threw away his newspaper and, hastily approachingher, touched her arm. 

"You are late, " he remarked. 

She started. 

"Yes, I am late. "

"I did not see you at the Club. "

"I have been to the Casino instead, " she told him. "I thought that itmight change my luck. "

"Successful, I trust?"

She shook her head. Then she opened her gold satchel and showed him. Itwas empty. 

"The luck must turn sometime, " he reminded her soothingly. "How longwill you be changing?"

"I am tired, " she confessed. "I thought that to-night I would not dine. I will have something sent up to my room. "

He was obviously disappointed. 

"Couldn't you dine as you are?" he begged. "You could change later, ifyou wished to. It is always such a disappointment when you do notappear--and to-night, " he added, "especially. "

Violet hesitated. She was really longing only to be alone and to rest. She thought, however, of the poor invalid to whom their meeting atdinner-time was the one break of the day. 

"Very well, " she promised, "I will be down in ten minutes. "

Draconmeyer, as the lift bore her upwards, strolled away. Although thecustom was a strange one to him, he sought out the American bar anddrank a cocktail. Then he lit a cigarette and made his way back into thelounge, moving restlessly about, his hands behind his back, his foreheadknitted. In his way he had been a great schemer, and in the crowded hallof the hotel that night, surrounded by a wonderfully cosmopolitan throngof loungers and passers-by, he lived again through the birth anddevelopment of many of the schemes which his brain had conceived sincehe had left his mother-country. One and all they had been successful. Heseemed, indeed, to have been imbued with the gift of success. He hadfloated immense loans where other men had failed; he had sustained thecredit of his country on a high level through more than one seriousfinancial crisis; he had pulled down or built up as his judgment orfancy had dictated; and all the time the man's relaxations, apart fromthe actual trend of great affairs, had been few and slight. Then hadcome his acquaintance with Linda's school-friend. He looked back throughthe years. At first he had scarcely noticed her visits. Gradually he hadbecome conscious of a dim feeling of thankfulness to the woman whoalways seemed able to soothe his invalid wife. Then, scarcely more thana year or so ago, he had found himself watching her at unexpectedmoments, admiring the soft grace of her movements, the pleasant cadenceof her voice, the turn of her head, the colour of her hair, the eleganceof her clothes, her thin, fashionable figure. Gradually he had begun tolook for her, to welcome her at his table--and from that, the rest. Finally the birth of this last scheme of his. He had very nearly made afatal mistake at the very commencement, had pulled himself right againonly with a supreme effort. His heart beat quicker even now as hethought of that moment. They had been alone together one evening. Shehad sat talking with him after Linda had gone to bed worse than usual, and in the dim light he had almost lost his head, he had almost saidthose words, let her see the things in his eyes for which the time wasnot yet ripe. She had kept away for a while after that. He had treatedit as a mistake but he had been very careful not to err again. Bydegrees she forgot. The estrangement between husband and wife was partof his scheme, largely his doing. He was all the time working to makethe breach wider. The visit to Monte Carlo, rather a difficultaccomplishment, he had arranged. He had seen with delight the necessityfor some form of excitement growing up in her, had watched her lossesand only wished that they had been larger. He had encouraged her to playfor higher stakes and found that she needed very little encouragementindeed. To-night he felt that a crisis was at hand. There was a new lookupon her face. She had probably lost everything. He knew exactly how shewould feel about asking her husband for help. His eyes grew brighter ashe waited for the lift. 

She came at last and they walked together into the dining-room. When shereached their accustomed table, it was empty, and only their two placeswere laid. She looked at him in surprise. 

"But I thought you said that Linda would be so disappointed!" shereminded him. 

He shook his head. 

"I do not think that I mentioned Linda's name, " he protested. "She wentto bed soon after tea in an absolutely hopeless state. I am afraid thatto-night I was selfish. I was thinking of myself. I have had nothing inthe shape of companionship all day. I came and looked at the table, andthe thought of dining alone wearied me. I have to spend a great deal oftime alone, unfortunately. You and I are, perhaps, a little alike inthat respect. "

She seated herself after a moment's hesitation. He moved his chair alittle closer to hers. The pink-shaded lamp seemed to shut them off fromthe rest of the room. A waiter poured wine into their glasses. 

"I ordered champagne to-night, " he remarked. "You looked so tired whenyou came in. Drink a glass at once. "

She obeyed him, smiling faintly. She was, as a matter of fact, cravingfor something of the sort. 

"It was thoughtful of you, " she declared. "I am tired. I have beenlosing all day, and altogether I have had a most depressing time. "

"It is not as it should be, that, " he observed, smiling. "This is a cityof pleasure. One was meant to leave one's cares behind here. If any onein this world, " he added, "should be without them, it should be you. "

He looked at her respectfully yet with an admiration which he made noeffort to conceal. There was nothing in the look over-personal. Sheaccepted it with gratitude. 

"You are always kind, " she murmured. 

"This reminds me of some of our evenings in London, " he went on, "whenwe used to talk music before we went to the Opera. I always found thoseevenings so restful and pleasant. Won't you try and forget that you havelost a few pennies; forget, also, your other worries, whatever they maybe? I have had a letter to-day from the one great writer whom we bothadmire. I shall read it to you. And I have a list of the operas for nextweek. I see that your husband's little protégée, Felicia Roche, ishere. "

"My husband's protégée?" she repeated. "I don't quite understand. "

He seemed, for a moment, embarrassed. 

"I am sorry, " he said. "I had no idea. But your husband will tell you ifyou ask him. It was he who paid for her singing education, and hertriumph is his. But the name must be known to you. "

"I have never heard it in connection with my husband, " she declared, frowning slightly. "Henry does not always take me into his confidence. "

"Then I am sorry, " he continued penitently, "that I mentioned thematter. It was clumsy of me. I had an idea that he must have told youall about her. .. . Another glass of wine, please, and you will find yourappetite comes. Jules has prepared that salmon trout specially. I'llread you the letter from Maurice, if you like, and afterwards there is astory I must tell you. "

The earlier stages of dinner slipped pleasantly away. Draconmeyer was aborn conversationalist, --a good talker and a keen tactician. The foodand the wine, too, did their part. Presently Violet lifted her head, thecolour came back to her cheeks, she too began to talk and laugh. All thetime he was careful not to press home his advantage. He remembered thatone night in the library at Grosvenor Square, when she had turned herhead and looked at him for a moment before leaving. She must bedifferent now, he told himself fiercely. It was impossible that shecould continue to love a husband who neglected her, a man whose mistakensense of dignity kept him away from her!

"I want you, " he begged, as they drew towards the close of the meal, "totreat me, if you will, just a little more confidentially. "

She glanced up at him quickly, almost suspiciously. 

"What do you mean?"

"You have troubles of which you do not speak, " he went on. "If myfriendship is worth anything, it ought to enable me to share thosetroubles with you. You have had a little further disagreement with yourhusband, I think, and bad luck at the tables. You ought not to leteither of these things depress you too much. Tell me, do you think thatI could help with Sir Henry?"

"No one could help, " she replied, her tone unconsciously hardening. "Henry is obstinate, and it is my firm conviction that he has ceased tocare for me at all. This afternoon--this very afternoon, " she went on, leaning across the table, her voice trembling a little, her eyes verybright, "I offered to go away with him. "

"To leave Monte Carlo?"

"Yes! He refused. He said that he must stay here, for some mysteriousreason. I begged him to tell me what that reason was, and he was silent. It was the end. He gives me no confidence. He has refused the one effortI made at reconciliation. I am convinced that it is useless. We haveparted finally. "

Draconmeyer tried hard to keep the light from his eyes as he leanedtowards her. 

"Dear lady, " he said, "if I do not admit that I am sorry--well, thereare reasons. Your husband did well to be mysterious. I can tell you thereason why he will not leave Monte Carlo. It is because Felicia Rochemakes her début at the Opera House to-morrow night. There! I didn't meanto tell you but the whole world knows it. Even now I would not have toldyou but for other things. It is best that you know the truth. It is myfirm belief that your husband does not deserve your interest, much moreyour affection. If only I dared--"

He paused for a moment. Every word he was compelled to measure. 

"Sometimes, " he continued, "your condition reminds me so much of my own. I think that there is no one so lonely in life as I am. For the last fewyears Linda has been fading away, physically and mentally. I touch herfingers at morning and night, we speak of the slight happenings of theday. She has no longer any mind or any power of sympathy. Her lips areas cold as her understanding. For that I know she is not to blame, yetit has left me very lonely. If I had had a child, " he went on, "even ifthere were one single soul of whom I was fond, to whom I might look forsympathy; even if you, my dear friend--you see, I am bold, and I ventureto call you my dear friend--could be a little kinder sometimes, it wouldmake all the difference in the world. "

She turned her head and looked at him. His teeth came together hastily. It seemed to him that already she was on her guard. 

"You have something more to say, haven't you?" she asked. 

He hesitated. Her tone was non-committal. It was a moment when he mighthave risked everything, but he feared to make a mistake. 

"This is what I mean, " he declared, with the appearance of greatfrankness. "I am going to speak to you upon the absurd question ofmoney. I have an income of which, even if I were boundlesslyextravagant, I could not hope to spend half. A speculation, the weekbefore I left England, brought me a profit of a million marks. But forthe banking interests of my country and the feeling that I am thetrustee for thousands of other people, it would weary me to look forinvestments. And you--you came in to-night, looking worn out justbecause you had lost a handful or so of those wretched plaques. There, you see it is coming now. I should like permission to do more than callmyself your friend. I should like permission to be also your banker. "

She looked at him quietly and searchingly. His heart began to beatfaster. At least she was in doubt. He had not wholly lost. His chance, even, was good. 

"My friend, " she said, "I believe that you are honest. I do indeedrecognise your point of view. The thing is an absurdity, but, you know, all conventions, even the most foolish, have some human and naturalright beneath them. I think that the convention which forbids a womanaccepting money from a man, however close a friend, is like that. Frankly, my first impulse, a few minutes ago, was to ask you to lend mea thousand pounds. Now I know that I cannot do it. "

"Do you really mean that?" he asked, in a tone of deep disappointment. "If you do, I am hurt. It proves that the friendship which to me is sodear, is to you a very slight thing. "

"You mustn't think that, " she pleaded. "And please, Mr. Draconmeyer, don't think that I don't appreciate all your kindness. Short ofaccepting your money, I would do anything to prove it. "

"There need be no question of a gift, " he reminded her, in a low tone. "If I were a perfect stranger, I might still be your banker. You musthave money from somewhere. Are you going to ask your husband?"

She bit her lip for a moment. If indeed he had known her actualposition, his hopes would have been higher still. 

"I cannot possibly ask Henry for anything, " she confessed. "I had madeup my mind to ask him to authorise the lawyers to advance me my nextquarter's allowance. After--what has passed between us, though, and--considering everything, I don't feel that I can do it. "

"Then may I ask how you really mean to get more money?" he went ongently. 

She looked at him a little piteously. 

"Honestly, I don't know, " she admitted. "I will be quite frank with you. Henry allows me two thousand, five hundred a year. I brought ninehundred pounds out with me, and I have nothing more to come until June. "

"And how much have you left of the nine hundred pounds?" he asked. 

"Not enough to pay my hotel bill, " she groaned. 

He smiled. 

"Circumstances are too strong for you, " he declared. "You must go to abanker. I claim the right of being that banker. I shall draw up apromissory note--no, we needn't do that--two or three cheques, perhaps, dated June, August and October. I shall charge you five per cent. Interest and I shall lend you a thousand pounds. "

Her eyes sparkled. The thought of the money was wonderful to her. Athousand pounds in mille notes that very night! She thought it all overrapidly. She would never run such risks again. She would play for smallamounts each day--just enough to amuse herself. Then, if she were lucky, she would plunge, only she would choose the right moment. Very likelyshe would be able to pay the whole amount back in a day or two. If Henryminded, well, it was his own fault. He should have been different. 

"You put it so kindly, " she said gratefully, "that I am afraid I cannotrefuse. You are very, very considerate, Mr. Draconmeyer. It certainlywill be nicer to owe you the money than a stranger. "

"I am only glad that you are going to be reasonable, " heremarked, --"glad, really, for both our sakes. And remember, " he went oncheerfully, "that one isn't young and at Monte Carlo too many times inone's life. Make up your mind to enjoy yourself. If the luck goesagainst you for a little longer, come again. You are bound to win in theend. Now, if you like, we'll have our coffee outside. I'll go and fetchthe money and you shall make out your cheques. "

He scribbled hastily on a piece of paper for a moment. 

"These are the amounts, " he pointed out. "I have charged you five percent. Per annum interest. As I can deal with money at something underfour, I shall make quite a respectable profit--more than enough, " headded good-naturedly, "to pay for our dinner!"

She seemed suddenly years younger. The prospect of the evening beforeher was enchanting. 

"You really are delightful!" she exclaimed. "You can't think howdifferently I shall feel when I go into the Club to-night. I amperfectly certain that it's having plenty of money that helps one towin. "

He smiled. 

"And plenty of courage, " he added. "Don't waste your time trifling withsmall stakes. Bid up for the big things. It is the only way in gamblingand in life. "

He rose to his feet and their eyes met for a moment. Once more she feltvaguely troubled. She put that disturbing thought away from her, however. It was foolish to think of drawing back now. If he admiredher--well, so did most men!

CHAPTER XV

INTERNATIONAL POLITICS

The Villa Mimosa flamed with lights from the top story to theground-floor. The entrance gates stood wide-open. All along the drive, lamps flashed from unsuspected places beneath the yellow-floweringtrees. One room only seemed shrouded in darkness and mystery, and aroundthat one room was concentrated the tense life of the villa. Thickcurtains had been drawn with careful hands. The heavy door had beensecurely closed. The French-windows which led out on to the balcony hadbeen almost barricaded. The four men who were seated around the ovaltable had certainly secured for themselves what seemed to be a completeand absolute isolation. Yet there was, nevertheless, a sense ofuneasiness, an indescribable air of tension in the atmosphere. Thequartette had somehow the appearance of conspirators who had not settleddown to their work. It was the last arrival, the man who sat at Mr. Grex's right hand, who was responsible for the general unrest. 

Mr. Grex moved a little nervously in the chair which he had just drawnup to the table. He looked towards Draconmeyer as he opened theproceedings. 

"Monsieur Douaille, " he said, "has come to see us this evening at my ownurgent request. Before we commence any sort of discussion, he has askedme to make it distinctly understood to you both--to you, Mr. Draconmeyer, and to you, Herr Selingman--that this is not in any senseof the word a formal meeting or convention. We are all here, as ithappens, by accident. Our friend Selingman, for instance, who is a pastmaster in the arts of pleasant living, has not missed a season here formany years. Draconmeyer is also an habitué. I myself, it is true, havespent my winters elsewhere, for various reasons, and am comparatively astranger, but my visit here was arranged many months ago. You yourself, Monsieur Douaille, are a good Parisian, and no good Parisian should misshis yearly pilgrimages to the Mecca of the pleasure-seeker. We meettogether this evening, therefore, purely as friends who have a commoninterest at heart. "

The man from whom this atmosphere of nervousness radiated--a man ofmedium height, inclined towards corpulence, with small grey imperial, athin red ribbon in his buttonhole, and slightly prominentfeatures--promptly intervened. He had the air of a man whollyill-at-ease. All the time Mr. Grex had been speaking, he had beendrumming upon the table with his forefinger. 

"Precisely! Precisely!" he exclaimed. "Above all things, that must beunderstood. Ours is a chance meeting. My visit in these parts is in noway connected with the correspondence I have had with one of our friendshere. Further, " Monsieur Douaille continued impressively, "it must bedistinctly understood that any word I may be disposed to utter, eitherin the way of statement or criticism, is wholly and entirely unofficial. I do not even know what the subject of our discussion is to be. Iapproach it with the more hesitation because I gather, from some slighthint which has fallen from our friend here, that it deals with a schemewhich, if ever it should be carried into effect, is to the disadvantageof a nation with whom we are at present on terms of the greatestfriendship. My presence here, except on the terms I have stated, " heconcluded, his voice shaking a little, "would be an unpardonable offenceto that country. "

Monsieur Douaille's somewhat laboured explanation did little to lightenthe atmosphere. It was the genius of Herr Selingman which intervened. Heleaned back in his chair and he patted his waistcoat thoughtfully. 

"I have things to say, " he declared, "but I cannot say them. I havenothing to smoke--no cigarette, no cigar. I arrive here choked withdust. As yet, the circumstance seems to have escaped our host's notice. Ah! what is that I see?" he added, rising suddenly to his feet. "Myhost, you are acquitted. I look around the table here at which I aminvited to seat myself, and I perceive nothing but a few stumpy pens andunappetising blotting-paper. By chance I lift my eyes. I see the partingof the curtains yonder, and behold!"

He rose and crossed the room, throwing back a curtain at the furtherend. In the recess stood a sideboard, laden with all manner of liqueursand wines, glasses of every size and shape, sandwiches, pasties, andfruit. Herr Selingman stood on one side with outstretched hand, in themanner of a showman. He himself was wrapped for a moment in admiration. 

"For you others I cannot speak, " he observed, surveying the label upon abottle of hock. "For myself, here is nectar. "

With careful fingers he drew the cork. At a murmured word of invitationfrom Mr. Grex, the others rose from their places and also helpedthemselves from the sideboard. Selingman took up his position in thecentre of the hearth-rug, with a long tumbler of yellow wine in one handand a sandwich in the other. 

"For myself, " he continued, taking a huge bite, "I wage war against allformality. I have been through this sort of thing in Berlin. I have beenthrough it in Vienna, I have been through it in Rome. I have sat at longtables with politicians, have drawn little pictures upon theblotting-paper and been bored to death. In wearisome fashion we havedrafted agreements, we have quarrelled and bickered, we have yawned andmade of ourselves men of parchment. But to-night, " he added, takinganother huge bite from his sandwich, "to-night nothing of that sort isintended. Draconmeyer and I have an idea. Mr. Grex is favourablyinclined towards it. That idea isn't a bit of good to ourselves or anyone else unless Monsieur Douaille here shares our point of view. Here weare, then, all met together--let us hope for a week or two's enjoyment. Little by little we must try and see what we can do towards instillingthat idea into the mind of Monsieur Douaille. We may succeed, we mayfail, but let us always remember that our conversations are theconversations of four friends, met together upon what is nothing more orless than a holiday. I hate the sight of those sheets of blotting-paperand clean pens. Who wants to make notes, especially of what we are goingto talk about! The man who cannot carry notes in his head is nostatesman. "

Monsieur Douaille, who had chosen champagne and was smoking a cigarette, beamed approval. Much of his nervousness had departed. 

"I agree, " he declared, "I like well the attitude of our friendSelingman. There is something much too formal about this table. I am nothere to talk treaties or to upset them. To exchange views, if youwill--no more. Meanwhile, I appreciate this very excellent champagne, the cigarettes are delicious, and I remove myself to this easy-chair. Ifany one would talk world politics, I am ready. Why not? Why should wepretend that there is any more interesting subject to men likeourselves, in whom is placed the trust of our country?"

Mr. Grex nodded his head in assent. 

"The fault is mine, " he declared, "but, believe me, it was notintentional. It was never my wish to give too formal an air to ourlittle meeting--in fact I never intended to do more than dwell on theoutside edge of great subjects to-night. Unfortunately, MonsieurDouaille, neither you nor I, whatever our power or influence may be, aredirectly responsible for the foreign affairs of our countries. We can, therefore, speak with entire frankness. Our countries--your country andmine--are to-day bound together by an alliance. You have something whichalmost approaches an alliance with another country. I am going to tellyou in plain words what I think you have been given to understandindirectly many times during the last few years--that understanding isnot approved of in St. Petersburg. "

Monsieur Douaille knocked the ash from his cigarette. He gazedthoughtfully into the fire of pine logs which was burning upon the openhearth. 

"Mr. Grex, " he said, "that is plainer speaking than we have everreceived from any official source. "

"I admit it, " Mr. Grex replied. "Such a statement on my part may sound alittle startling, but I make it advisedly. I know the feeling--you willgrant that my position entitles me to know the feeling--of the men whocount for anything in Russian politics. Perhaps I do not mean thetitular heads of my Government. There are others who have even moreresponsibilities, who count for more. I honestly and truthfully assureyou that I speak for the powers that are behind the Government of Russiawhen I tell you that the English dream of a triple alliance betweenRussia, England, and France will never be accepted by my country. "

Monsieur Douaille sipped his champagne. 

"This is candour, " he remarked, "absolute candour. One speaks quiteplainly, I imagine, before our friend the enemy?" he added, smilingtowards Selingman. 

"Why not?" Selingman demanded. "Why not, indeed? We are not fools here. "

"Then I would ask you, Mr. Grex, " Monsieur Douaille continued, "where inthe name of all that is equitable are you to find an alliance morelikely to preserve the status quo in Europe? Both logically andgeographically it absolutely dovetails. Russia is in a position toabsorb the whole attention of Austria and even to invade the north coastof Germany. The hundred thousand troops or so upon which we could relyfrom Great Britain, would be invaluable for many reasons--first, becausea mixture of blood is always good; secondly, because the regular armywhich perforce they would have to send us, is of very fine fightingmaterial; and thirdly, because they could land, to give away a very opensecret to you, my friend Selingman, in a westerly position, and wouldvery likely succeed thereby in making an outflanking movement towardsthe north. I presume that at present the German fleet would not come outto battle, in which case the English would certainly be able to do greatexecution upon the northern coast of Germany. All this, of course, hasbeen discussed and written about, and the next war been mapped out in adozen different ways. I must confess, however, that taking every knownconsideration into account, I can find no other distribution of powersso reasonable or so favourable to my country. "

Mr. Grex nodded. 

"I find no fault with any word of what you have said, " he declared, "except that yours is simply the superficial and obvious idea of the manin the street as to the course of the next probable war. Now let us go alittle further. I grant all the points which you urge in favour of yoursuggested triple alliance. I will even admit that your forecast of a wartaking place under such conditions, is a fairly faithful one. Weproceed, then. The war, if it came to pass, could never be decisive. Animmense amount of blood would be shed, treasure recklessly poured out, Europe be rendered desolate, for the sake most largely of whom?--ofJapan and America. That is the weakness of the whole thing. A warcarried out on the lines you suggest would be playing the game of thesetwo countries. Even the victors would be placed at a huge disadvantagewith them, to say nothing of the losers, who must see slipping away fromthem forever their place under the sun. It is my opinion--and I havestudied this matter most scientifically and with the help of the SecretService of every country, not excepting your own, Herr Selingman--it ismy opinion that this war must be indecisive. The German fleet would becrippled and not destroyed. The English fleet would retain itsproportionate strength. No French advance into Germany would besuccessful, no German advance into France is likely. The war wouldlanguish for lack of funds, through sheer inanition it would flickerout, and the money of the world would flow into the treasuries ofAmerica. Russia would not be fighting for her living. With her it couldbe at best but a half-hearted war. She would do her duty to thealliance. Nothing more could be hoped from her. You could not expect, for instance, that she would call up all her reserves, leave the wholeof her eastern frontier unprotected, and throw into mid-Europe such aforce as would in time subjugate Germany. This could be done but it willnot be done. We all know that. "

Monsieur Douaille smoked thoughtfully for several moments. 

"Very well, " he pronounced at last, "I am rather inclined to agree withall that you have said. Yet it seems to me that you evade the greatpoint. The status quo is what we desire, peace is what the world wants. If, before such a war as you have spoken of is begun, people realisewhat the end of it must be, don't you think that that itself is thegreatest help towards peace? My own opinion is, I tell you frankly, thatfor many years to come, at any rate, there will be no war. "

Herr Selingman set down his glass and turned slowly around. 

"Then let me tell you that you are mistaken, " he declared solemnly. "Listen to me, my friend Douaille--my friend, mind, and not thestatesman Douaille. I am a German citizen and you are a French one, andI tell you that if in three years' time your country does not make upits mind to strike a blow for Alsace and Lorraine, then in three years'time Germany will declare war upon you. "

Monsieur Douaille had the expression of a man who doubts. Selingmanfrowned. He was suddenly immensely serious. He struck the palm of onehand a great blow with his clenched fist. 

"Why is it that no one in the world understands, " he cried, "whatGermany wants? I tell you, Monsieur Douaille, that we don't hate yourcountry. We love it. We crowd to Paris. We expand there. It is theholiday place of every good German. Who wants a ruined France? Not we!Yet, unless there is a change in the international situation, we shallgo to war with you and I will tell you why. There are no secrets aboutthis sort of thing. Every politician who is worth his salt knows them. The only difficulty is to know when a country is in earnest, and how farit will go. That is the value of our meeting. That is what I am here tosay. We shall go to war with you, Monsieur Douaille, to get Calais, andwhen we've got Calais--oh, my God!" Selingman almost reverentlyconcluded, "then our solemn task will be begun. "

"England!" Monsieur Douaille murmured. 

There was a brief pause. Selingman had seemed, for a moment, to havepassed into the clouds. There was a sort of gloomy rapture upon hisface. He caught up Douaille's last word and repeated it. 

"England! England, and through her. .. . "

He moved to the sideboard and filled his tumbler with wine. When he cameback to his place, his expression had lightened. 

"Ah, well! dear Monsieur Douaille, " he exclaimed, patting the other'sshoulder in friendly fashion, "to-night we merely chatter. To-night weare here to make friends, to gain each the confidence of the other. Toourselves let us pretend that we are little boys, playing the game ofour nation--France, Germany, and Russia. Germany and Russia, to be frankwith you, are waiting for one last word from Germany's father, somethingsplendid and definite to offer. What we would like France to do, whileFrance loses its money at roulette and flirts with the pretty ladies atCiro's, is to try and accustom itself not to an alliance withGermany--no! Nothing so utopian as that. The lion and the lamb mayremain apart. They may agree to be friends, they may even wave paws atone another, but I do not suggest that they march side by side. What weask of France is that she looks the other way. It is very easy to lookthe other way. She might look, for instance--towards Egypt. "

[Illustration: "What we ask of France is that she looks the other way. "]

There was a sudden glitter in the eyes of Monsieur Douaille. Selingmansaw it and pressed on. 

"There are laurels to be won which will never fade, " he continued, setting down his empty tumbler, "laurels to be won by that statesman ofyour country, the little boy France, who is big enough and strong enoughto stand with his feet upon the earth and proclaim--'I am for France andmy own people, and my own people only, and I will make them greatthrough all the centuries by seeing the truth and leading them towardsit, single-purposed, single-minded. ' . .. But these things are not to bedisposed of so readily as this wonderful Berncastler--I beg its pardon, Berncastler Doctor--of our host. For to-night I have said my say. I havewhims, perhaps, but with me serious affairs are finished for the night. I go to the Sporting Club. Mademoiselle keeps my place at the baccarattable. I feel in the vein. It is a small place, Monte Carlo. Let us makeno appointments. We shall drift together. And, monsieur, " he concluded, laying his hand for a moment upon Douaille's shoulder, "let the thoughtsink into your brain. Wipe out that geographical and logical map ofEurope from your mind; see things, if you can, in the new daylight. Then, when the idea has been there for just a little time--well, wespeak again. .. . Come, Draconmeyer. I am relying upon your car to get meinto Monte Carlo. My bounteous host, Mr. Grex, good night! I touch yourhand with reverence. The man who possesses such wine and offers it tohis friends, is indeed a prince. "

Mr. Grex rose a little unwillingly from his chair. 

"It is of no use to protest, " he remarked, smiling. "Our friendSelingman will have his way. Besides, as he reminded us, there is onelast word to arrive. Come and breathe the odours of the Riviera, Monsieur Douaille. This is when I realise that I am not at my villa onthe Black Sea. "

They passed out into the hall and stood on the terrace while the carsdrew up. The light outside seemed faintly violet. The perfume of mimosaand roses and oleander came to him in long waves, subtle and yetinvigorating. Below, the lights of Monte Carlo, clear and brilliant, with no northern fog or mist to dull their radiance, shone like gems inthe mantle of night. Selingman sighed as he stepped into the automobile. 

"We are men who deserve well from history, " he declared, "who, in themidst of a present so wonderful, can spare time to plan for thegenerations to come!"

CHAPTER XVI

A BARGAIN WITH JEAN COULOIS

Selingman drew out his watch and held it underneath the electric lightset in the back of the automobile. 

"Good!" he declared. "It is not yet half-past eleven. "

"Too early for the Austria, " Draconmeyer murmured, a little absently. 

Selingman returned the watch to his pocket. 

"By no means, " he objected. "Mademoiselle is doubtless amusing herselfwell enough, but if I go now and leave in an hour, she will be peevish. She might want to accompany us. To-night it would not be convenient. Tell your chauffeur, Draconmeyer, to take us direct to the rendezvous. We can at least watch the people there. One is always amused. We willforget our nervous friend. These little touches, Draconmeyer, my man, they mark the man of genius, mind you. Did you notice how his eyes litup when I whispered that one word 'Egypt'? It is a great game when youbait your hook with men and fish for empires!"

Draconmeyer gave an instruction to his chauffeur and leaned back. 

"If we succeed, --" he began. 

"Succeed?" Selingman interrupted. "Why, man alive, he is on our hooksalready! Be at rest, my friend. The affair is half arranged. It remainsonly with us to deal with one man. "

Draconmeyer's eyes sparkled beneath his spectacles. A slow smile creptover his white face. 

"You are right, " he agreed. "That man is best out of the way. If he andDouaille should meet--"

"They shall not meet, " Selingman thundered. "I, Selingman, declare it. We are here already. Good! The aspect of the place pleases me. "

The two men, arriving so early, received the distinguished considerationof a bowing maître d'hôtel as they entered the Austria. They wereushered at once to a round table in a favourable position. Selingmansurrendered his hat and coat to the obsequious vestiaire, pulled downhis waistcoat with a familiar gesture, spread his pudgy hands upon thetable and looked around him with a smile of benevolent approval. 

"I shall amuse myself here, " he declared confidently. "Pass the menu tome, Draconmeyer. You have no more idea how to eat than a rabbit. That iswhy you suffer from indigestion. At this hour--why, it is not midnightyet--one needs sustenance--sustenance, mark you, intelligently selected, something nourishing yet not heavy. A sheet of paper, waiter. You see, Ilike to write out my dishes. It saves trouble and there are nodisappointments, nothing is forgotten. As to the wine, show me thevintage champagnes. .. . So! You need not hurry with the meal. We shallspend some time here. "

Draconmeyer arrested the much impressed maître d'hôtel as he washurrying away. 

"Is there dancing here to-night?" he enquired. 

"But certainly, monsieur, " the man replied. "A Spanish lady, altogetherravishing, the equal of Otéro at her best--Signorina Melita. "

"She dances alone?"

"By no means. There is the young Frenchman, Jean Coulois, who is engagedfor the season. A wonderful pair, indeed! When May comes, they go to themusic-halls in Paris and London. "

Draconmeyer nodded approval. 

"Coulois was the name, " he whispered to Selingman, as the man movedaway. 

The place filled up slowly. Presently the supper was served. Selingmanate with appetite, Draconmeyer only sparingly. The latter, however, drank more freely than usual. The wine had, nevertheless, curiouslylittle effect upon him, save for a slight additional brightness of theeyes. His cheeks remained pale, his manner distrait. He watched thepeople enter and pass to their places, without any apparent interest. Selingman, on the other hand, easily absorbed the spirit of hissurroundings. As the night wore on he drank healths with his neighbours, beamed upon the pretty little Frenchwoman who was selling flowers, ateand drank what was set before him with obvious enjoyment. Both men, however, showed at least an equal interest when Mademoiselle Melita, inSpanish costume, accompanied by a slim, dark-visaged man, began todance. Draconmeyer was no longer restless. He sat with folded arms, watching the performance with a strangely absorbed air. One thing, however, was singular. Although Selingman was confessedly a ladies' man, his eyes, after her first few movements, scarcely rested for a momentupon the girl. Both Draconmeyer and he watched her companionsteadfastly. When the dance was over they applauded with spirit. Selingman sat up in his place, a champagne bottle in his hand. Hebeckoned to the man, who, with a little deprecating shrug of theshoulders, swaggered up to their table with some show of condescension. 

"A chair for Monsieur Jean Coulois, the great dancer, " Selingmanordered, "a glass, and another bottle of wine. Monsieur Jean, mycongratulations! But a word in your ear. Her steps do not match yours. It is you who make the dance. She has no initiative. She can do nothingbut imitate, " he added. 

The dancer looked at his host a little curiously. He was slightly builtand without an atom of colour. His black hair was closely cropped, hiseyes of sombre darkness, his demeanour almost sullen. At Selingman'swords, however, he nodded rapidly and seated himself more firmly uponhis chair. It was apparent that although his face remainedexpressionless, he was gratified. 

"They notice nothing, these others, " he remarked, with a little wave ofthe hand. "It is always the woman who counts. You are right, monsieur. She dances like a stick. She has good calves and she rolls her eyes. The_canaille_ applaud. It is always like that. Your health, monsieur!"

He drank his wine without apparent enjoyment, but he drank it likewater. Selingman leaned across the table. 

"Coulois, " he whispered, "the wolves bay loudest at night, is it notso?"

The man sat quite still. If such a thing had been possible, he mighthave grown a shade paler. His eyes glittered. He looked steadfastly atSelingman. 

"Who are you?" he muttered. 

"The wolves sleep in the daytime, " Selingman replied. 

The dancer shrugged his shoulders. He held out his glass to bereplenished. The double password had reassured him. 

"Pardon, monsieur, " he said, "these have been anxious hours. "

"The little affair at La Turbie?" Selingman suggested. 

Coulois set down his glass for the first time half finished. His mouthhad taken an evil turn. He leaned across the table. 

"See you, " he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, "what happened, happenedjustly! Martin is responsible. The whole thing was conducted in thespirit of a pantomime, a great joke. Who are we, the Wolves, to brandishempty firearms, to shrink from letting a little blood! Bah!"

He finished his wine. Selingman nodded approvingly as he refilled hisglass. 

"My friend and I, " he confided, "were amongst those who were held up. Imagine it! We stood against the wall like a row of dummies. Suchtreasure as I have never before seen was poured into that sack. Jewels, my friend, such as only the women of Monte Carlo wear! Packet afterpacket of mille notes! Wealth immeasurable! Oh, Coulois, Coulois, it wasan opportunity lost!"

"Lost!" the dancer echoed fiercely. "It was thrown into the gutter! Itwas madness! It was hellish, such ill-fortune! Yet what could I do? If Ihad been absent from here--I, Coulois, whom men know of--even the policewould have had no excuse. So it was Martin who must lead. Our armouryhad never been fuller. There were revolvers for every one, ammunitionfor a thousand. .. . Pardon, monsieur, but I cannot talk of this affair. The anger rises so hot in my heart that I fear to betray myself to thosewho may be listening. And besides, you have not come here to talk withme of it. "

"It is true, " Selingman confessed. 

There was a brief silence. The dancer was studying them both. There wasuneasiness in his expression. 

"I do not understand, " he enquired hoarsely, "how you came by thepasswords?"

"Make yourself wholly at ease, my young friend, " Selingman begged himreassuringly. "We are men of the world, my friend and I. We seek our ownends in life and we have often to make use of the nearest and the bestmeans for the purpose of securing them. Martin has served me before. Aweek ago I should have gone to him. To-night, as you know, he lies inprison. "

"Martin, indeed!" the dancer jeered. "You would have gone, then, to aman of sawdust, a chicken-livered bungler! What is it that you wantdone? Speak to me. I am a man. "

The leader of the orchestra was essaying upon his violin the tentativestrains of a popular air. The girl had reappeared and was poisingherself upon her toes. The leader of the orchestra summoned Coulois. 

"I must dance, " he announced. "Afterwards I will return. "

He leapt lightly to his feet and swung into the room with extended arms. Draconmeyer looked down at his plate. 

"It is a risk, this, we are running, " he muttered. "I do not see, Selingman, why you could not have hired this fellow through Allen or oneof the others. "

Selingman shook his head. 

"See here, Draconmeyer, " he explained, "this is one of the cases whereagents are dangerous. For Allen to have been seen with Jean Coulois herewould have been the same as though I had been seen with him myself. Icannot, alas! in this place, with my personality, keep my identityconcealed. They know that I am Selingman. They know well that wherever Imove, I have with me men of my Secret Service. I cannot use them againstHunterleys. Too many are in the know. Here we are simply two visitorswho talk to a dancer. We depart. We do not see him again untilafterwards. Besides, this is where fate is with us. What more naturalthan that the Wolves should revenge themselves upon the man who capturedone of their leaders? It was the young American, Richard Lane, whoreally started the debacle, but it was Hunterleys who seized Martin. What more natural than revenge? These fellows hang by one anotheralways. "

Draconmeyer nodded with grim approval. 

"It was devilish work he did in Sofia, " he said softly. "But for him, much of this would have been unnecessary. "

The dance was over. Both men joined enthusiastically in the applause. Coulois, with an insolent nod to his admirers, returned to his seat. Hethrew himself back in his chair, crossed his legs and held out his emptyglass. Though he had been dancing furiously, there was not a single beadof perspiration upon his forehead. 

"You are in good condition, my friend, " Selingman observed admiringly. 

"I need to be for my work, " Coulois replied. "Let us get to business. There is no need to mince words. What do you want with me? Who is thequarry?"

"The man who ruined your little affair at La Turbie and captured yourcomrade Martin, " Selingman whispered. "You see, you have everyprovocation to start with. "

Coulois' eyes glittered. 

"He was an Englishman, " he muttered. 

"Quite true, " Selingman assented. "His name is Hunterleys--Sir HenryHunterleys. He lives at the Hotel de Paris. His room is number 189. Hespends his time upon the Terrace, at the Café de Paris, and in theSporting Club. Every morning he goes to the English Bank for hisletters, deals with them in his room, calls at the post-office and takesa walk, often up into the hills. "

"Come, come, this is not so bad!" Coulois exclaimed. "They laugh at usin the cafés and down in the wine shops of Monaco, those who know, " hewent on, frowning. "They say that the Wolves have become sheep. We shallsee! It is an affair, this, worth considering. What do you pay, Monsieurle Gros, and for how long do you wish him out of the way?"

"The pay, " Selingman announced, "is two hundred louis, and the man mustbe in hospital for at least a fortnight. "

Draconmeyer leaned suddenly forward. His eyes were bright, his handsgripped the table. 

"Listen!" he whispered in Coulois' ear. "Are the Wolves sheep, indeed, that they can do no more than twist ankles and break heads? That twohundred shall be five hundred, Jean Coulois, but it must be a cemeteryto which they take him, and not a hospital!"

[Illustration: "That two hundred shall be five hundred, but it must be acemetery to which they take him!"]

There was a moment's silence. Selingman sat back in his place. He wasstaring at his companion with wide-open eyes. Jean Coulois wasmoistening his lips with his tongue, his eyes were brilliant. 

"Five hundred louis!" he repeated under his breath. 

"Is it not enough?" Draconmeyer asked coldly. "I do not believe in halfmeasures. The man who is wounded may be well before he is welcome. Iffive hundred louis is not enough, name your price, but let there be nodoubt. Let me see what the Wolves can do when it is their leader whohandles the knife!"

The face of the dancer was curiously impassive. He lifted his glass anddrained it. 

"An affair of death!" he exclaimed softly. "We Wolves--we bite, wewound, we rob. But death--ugh! There are ugly things to be thought of. "

"And pleasant ones, " Draconmeyer reminded him. "Five hundred louis isnot enough. It shall be six hundred. A man may do much with six hundredgolden louis. "

Selingman sat forward once more in his place. 

"Look here, " he intervened, "you go too far, my friend. You never spoketo me of this. What have you against Hunterleys?"

"His nationality, " Draconmeyer answered coolly. "I hate all Englishmen!"

The gaiety had left Selingman's face. He gazed at his companion with acurious expression. 

"My friend, " he murmured, "I fear that you are vindictive. "

"Perhaps, " Draconmeyer replied quietly. "In these matters I like to beon the safe side. "

Jean Coulois struck the table lightly with his small, feminine hand. Heshowed all his teeth as though he had been listening to an excellentjoke. 

"It is to be done, " he decided. "There is no more to be said. "

Some visitors had taken the next table. Coulois drew his chair a littlecloser to Draconmeyer. 

"I accept the engagement, " he continued. "We will talk no more. Monsieurdesires my address? It is here, "--scribbling on a piece of paper. "Butmonsieur may be warned, " he added, with a lightning-like flash in hiseyes as he became conscious of the observation of some passers-by. "Iwill not dance in England. I will not leave Monte Carlo before May. Halfthat sum--three hundred louis, mind--must come to me on trust; the otherthree hundred afterwards. Never fear but that I will give satisfaction. Keep your part of the bargain, " he added, under his breath, "and theWolves' fangs are already in this man's throat. "

He danced again. The two men watched him. Draconmeyer's face was asstill and colourless as ever. In Selingman's there was a shade ofsomething almost like repulsion. He poured himself out a glass ofchampagne. 

"Draconmeyer, " he exclaimed, "you are a cold-blooded fish, indeed! Youcan sit there without blinking and think of this thing which we havedone. Now as for me, I have a heart. I can never see the passing out ofthe game of even a bitter opponent, without a shiver. Talk philosophy tome, Draconmeyer. My nerves are shaken. "

Draconmeyer turned his head. He, too, raised his wine to his lips anddrank deliberately. 

"My friend, " he said, "there is no philosophy save one. A child criesfor the star he may not have; the weak man comforts himself in privationby repeating to himself the dry-as-dust axioms conceived in an alienbrain, and weaving from them the miserable comfort of empty words. Theman who knows life and has found wisdom, pays the price for the thing hedesires, and obtains it!"

CHAPTER XVII

DUTY INTERFERES AGAIN

Hunterleys sat that night alone in a seat at the Opera for a time andlost himself in a maze of recollections. He seemed to find himselfgrowing younger as he listened to the music. The days of a more vividand ardent sentimentality seemed to reassert themselves. He thought ofthe hours when he had sat side by side with his wife, the only woman towhom he had ever given a thought; of the thrill which even the touch ofher fingers had given him, of the drive home together, the littleconfidences and endearments, the glamour which seemed to have beenthrown over life before those unhappy misunderstandings. He rememberedso well the beginning of them all--the terrible pressure of work whichwas thrown upon his shoulders, his engrossed days, his disturbed nights;her patience at first, her subsequent petulance, her final anger. He wasengaged often in departmental work which he could not even explain. Shehad taken up with unhappy facility the rôle of a neglected wife. Shedeclared that he had ceased to care for the lighter ways. There hadcertainly been a time when her complaints had been apparently justified, when the Opera had been banned, theatres were impossible, when she couldnot even rely upon his escort to a dinner or to a reception. He hadargued with her very patiently at first but very unsuccessfully. It wasthen that her friendship with Linda Draconmeyer had been so vigorouslyrenewed, a friendship which seemed from the first to have threatened hishappiness. Had it been his fault? he wondered. Had he really been toomuch engrossed in his work? His country had made large demands upon himin those days. Had he ever explained the matter fully and carefullyenough to her? Perhaps not. At any rate, he was the sufferer. Herealised more than ever, as the throbbing of the music stole into hisblood, the loneliness of his life. And yet it seemed so hopeless. Supposing he threw up his work and let things take their course? Thebare thought chilled him. He recognised it as unworthy. The great songof mortification from the broken hero rang in his ears. Must every womanbring to every man the curse of Delilah!. .. 

He passed out of the building into the cool, starlit night. People werestrolling about in evening clothes, hatless, the women in white operacloaks and filmy gowns, their silk-stockinged feet very much inevidence, resembling almost some strange kind of tropical birds withtheir little shrill laughter and graceful movements, as they made theirway towards the Club or round to the Rooms, or to one of the restaurantsfor supper. Whilst Hunterleys hesitated, there was a touch upon his arm. He glanced around. 

"Hullo, David!" he exclaimed. "Were you waiting for me?"

The young man fell into step by his side. 

"I have been to the hotel, " he said, in a low tone. "They thought youmight be here. Can you come up later--say at one o'clock?"

"Certainly, " Hunterleys answered. "Where's Sidney?"

"He's working now. He'll be home by half-past twelve unless anythinggoes wrong. He thinks he'll have something to tell you. "

"I'll come, " Hunterleys agreed. "How's Felicia?"

"All right, but working herself to death, " the young man replied. "Sheis getting anxious, too. Give her a word of encouragement if you see herto-night. She was hoping you might have been up to see her. "

"I won't forget, " Hunterleys promised. 

The young man drifted silently away, and Hunterleys, after a moment'shesitation and a glance at his watch, turned towards the Club. Heclimbed the broad staircase, surrendered his hat and turned in at theroulette room. The magic of the music was still in his veins, and helooked around him almost eagerly. There was no sign of Violet. Hestrolled into the baccarat room but she was not there. Perhaps she, too, had been at the Opera. In the bar he found Richard Lane, sitting moodilyalone. The young man greeted him warmly. 

"Come and have a drink, Sir Henry, " he begged. "I've got the hump. "

Hunterleys sat down by his side. 

"Whiskey and apollinaris, " he ordered. "What's the matter with you, Richard?"

"She isn't here, " the young man declared. "I've been to the Rooms andshe isn't there either. "

"What about the Opera?" Hunterleys asked. 

"I started at the Opera, " Lane confessed, "took a box so as to be ableto see the whole house. I sat through the first act but there wasn't asign of her. Then I took a spin out and had another look at the villa. It was all lit up as though there were a party. I very nearly marchedin. "

"Just as well you didn't, I think, " Hunterleys remarked, smiling. "I seeyou're feeling just the same about it. "

The young man did not even vouchsafe an answer. 

"Then you're not going to take advantage of your little warning andclear out?" Hunterleys continued. 

"Don't you think I'm big enough to take care of myself?" Lane asked, with a little laugh. "Besides, there's an American Consul here, andplenty of English witnesses who saw the whole thing. Can't think whythey're trying on such a silly game. "

"Mr. Grex may have influence, " Hunterleys suggested. 

"Who the mischief is my prospective father-in-law?" Richard demanded, almost testily. "There's an atmosphere about that house and the servantsI can't understand a bit. "

"You wouldn't, " Hunterleys observed drily. "Well, in a day or two I'lltell you who Mr. Grex is. I'd rather not to-night. "

"By the way, " Lane continued, "your wife was asking if you were here, afew minutes ago. "

Hunterleys rose quickly to his feet. 

"Where is she?"

"She was at her usual place at the top roulette table, but she gave itup just as I passed, said she was going to walk about, " the young manreplied. "I don't think she has left yet. "

Hunterleys excused himself hastily. In the little space between therestaurant and the roulette rooms he came suddenly upon Violet. She wasleaning back in an obscure corner, with her hands clasped helplessly inher lap before her. She was sitting quite still and his heart sank whenhe saw her. The lines under her eyes were unmistakable now; her cheeks, too, seemed to have grown hollow. Her first look at him almost made himforget all their differences. There was something piteous in the trembleof her lips. He drew a chair to her side. 

"Richard told me that you wished to speak to me, " he began, as lightlyas he could. 

"I asked if he had seen you, a few minutes ago, " she admitted. "I amafraid that my interest was rather mercenary. "

"You want to borrow some money?" he enquired, taking out hispocket-book. 

She looked at it, and though her eyes at first were listless, they stillseemed fascinated. 

"I don't think I can play any more to-night, " she sighed. 

"You have been losing?"

"Yes!"

"Come and have something, " he invited. "You look tired. "

She rose willingly enough. They passed out, side by side, into thelittle bar. 

"Some champagne?" he suggested. 

She shook her head quickly. The memory of the champagne at dinner-timecame back to her with a sudden sickening insistence. She thought of theloan, she thought of Draconmeyer with a new uneasiness. It was as thoughshe had admitted some new complication into her life. 

"Could I have some tea?" she begged. 

He ordered some and sat with her while she drank it. 

"You know, " he declared, "if I might be permitted to say so, I think youare taking the gaming here a little too seriously. If you have beenunlucky, it is very easy to arrange an advance for you. Would you likesome money? If so, I will see to it when I go to the bank to-morrow. Ican let you have a hundred pounds at once, if you like. "

A hundred pounds! If only she dared tell him that she had lost athousand within the last two hours! Once more he was fingering hispocket-book. 

"Come, " he went on pleasantly, "you had better have a hundred from me, for luck. "

He counted out the notes. Her fingers began to shake. 

"I didn't mean to play any more to-night, " she faltered, irresolutely. 

"Nor should I, " he agreed. "Take my advice, Violet, and go home now. This will do for you to-morrow. "

She took the money and dropped it into her jewelled bag. 

"Very well, " she said, "I won't play any more, but I don't want to gohome yet. It is early, and I can never sleep here if I go to bed. Sitwith me for half-an-hour, and then perhaps you could give me somesupper?"

He shook his head. 

"I am so sorry, " he answered, "but at one o'clock I have anappointment. "

"An appointment?"

"Such bad luck, " he continued. "It would have given me very greatpleasure to have had supper with you, Violet. "

"An appointment at one o'clock, " she repeated slowly. "Isn't that just alittle--unusual?"

"Perhaps so, " he assented. "I can assure you that I am very sorry. "

She leaned suddenly towards him. The aloofness had gone from her manner. The barrier seemed for a moment to have fallen down. Once more she wasthe Violet he remembered. She smiled into his face, and smiled with hereyes as well as her lips, just the smile he had been thinking of an hourago in the Opera House. 

"Don't go, please, " she begged. "I am feeling lonely to-night and I amso tired of everybody and everything. Take me to supper at the Café deParis. Then, if you like, we might come back here for half-an-hour. Or--"

She hesitated. 

"I am horribly sorry, " he declared, in a tone which was full of realregret. "Indeed, Violet, I am. But I have an appointment which I mustkeep, and I can't tell exactly how long it may take me. "

The very fact that the nature of that appointment concerned things whichfrom the first he had made up his mind must be kept entirely secret, stiffened his tone. Her manner changed instantly. She had drawn herselfa little away. She considered for a moment. 

"Are you inclined to tell me with whom your appointment is, and for whatpurpose?" she asked coldly. "I don't want to be exacting, but after therequest I have made, and your refusal--"

"I cannot tell you, " he interrupted. "I can only ask you to take my wordfor it that it is one which I must keep. "

She rose suddenly to her feet. 

"I forgot!" she exclaimed. "I haven't the slightest right to yourconfidence. Besides, when I come to think of it, I don't believe that Iam hungry at all. I shall try my luck with your money?"

"Violet!--"

She swept away with a little farewell nod, half insolent, half angry. Hunterleys watched her take her place at the table. For several momentshe stood by her side. She neither looked up nor addressed him. Then heturned and left the place. 

CHAPTER XVIII

A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE

Hunterleys remained in the hotel only long enough to change his strawhat for a cap, put on a long, light overcoat and take an ash stick fromhis wardrobe. He left the place by an unfrequented entrance andcommenced at once to climb to the back part of the town. Once or twicehe paused and looked around, to be sure that he was not followed. Whenhe had arrived as far as the Hotel de Prince de Galles, he crossed theroad. From here he walked very quickly and took three turns in rapidsuccession. Finally he pushed open a little gate and passed up a tiledwalk which led between a little border of rose trees to a small whitevilla, covered with creepers. A slim, girlish figure came suddenly outfrom the porch and danced towards him with outstretched hands. 

"At last!" she exclaimed. "At last! Tell me, my co-guardian, how you aregoing to excuse yourself?"

He took her outstretched hands and looked down into her face. She wasvery small and dark, with lustrous brown eyes and a very sensitivemouth, which just now was quivering with excitement. 

"All the excuses have gone out of my head, Felicia, " he declared. "Youlook such a little elf in the moonlight that I can't do more than saythat I am sorry. But I have been busy. "

She was suddenly serious. She clasped his arm with both her hands andturned towards the house. 

"Of course you have, " she sighed. "It seems too bad, though, in MonteCarlo. Sidney and David are like ghouls. I don't ask what it is allabout--I know better--but I wish it were all over, whatever it is. "

"Is Sidney back?" Hunterleys asked eagerly. 

She nodded. 

"He came in half-an-hour ago, looking like a tramp. David is writing asthough he hadn't a moment to spare in life. They are both waiting foryou, I think. "

"And you?" he enquired. "How do the rehearsals go?"

"The rehearsals are all right, " she admitted, looking up at him almostpathetically. "It's the night itself that seems so awful. I know everyword, I know every note, and yet I can't feel sure. I can't sleep forthinking about it. Only last night I had a nightmare. I saw all thoserows and rows of faces, and the lights, and my voice went, my tongue wasdry and hard, not a word would come. And you were there--and theothers!"

He laughed at her. 

"Little girl, " he said solemnly, "I shall have to speak to Sidney. Oneof those two young men must take you out for a day in the countryto-morrow. "

"They seem so busy, " she complained. "They don't seem to have time tothink of me. I suppose I had better let you go in. They'd be furious ifthey thought I was keeping you. "

They passed into the villa, and with a farewell pat of the handHunterleys left her and opened a door on the left-hand side of the hall. The young man who had met him coming out of the Opera was standing withhis hands in his pockets, upon the hearth-rug of an exceedinglyuntidy-looking apartment. There was a table covered with papers, anotherpiled with newspapers. There were books upon the floor, pipes andtobacco laid about haphazard. A space had been swept clear upon thelarger table for a typewriter, a telephone instrument stood against thewall. A man whose likeness to Felicia was at once apparent, swung roundin his chair as Hunterleys entered. He had taken off his coat andwaistcoat and his trousers seemed smothered with dust. 

"Regular newspaper correspondent's den, " Hunterleys remarked, as helooked around him. "I never saw such a mess in my life. I wonder Feliciaallows it. "

"We don't let her come in, " her brother chuckled. "Is the door closed?"

"Fast, " Hunterleys replied, moving away from it. 

"Things are moving, " the other went on. "I took the small car out to-dayon the road to Cannes and I expect I was the first to see Douaille. "

"I saw him myself, " Hunterleys announced. "I was out on that road, walking. "

"Douaille, " Roche continued, "went direct to the Villa Mimosa. Grex wasthere, waiting for him. Draconmeyer and Selingman both kept out of theway. "

Hunterleys nodded. 

"Reasonable enough, that. Grex was the man to pave the way. Well?"

"At ten o'clock, Draconmeyer and Selingman arrived. The Villa Mimosagets more difficult every day. I have only one friend in the house, although it is filled with servants. Three-quarters of them only speakRussian. My man's reliable but he is in a terrible minority. Theconference took place in the library. It lasted about an hour and ahalf. Selingman and Draconmeyer came out looking fairly well satisfied. Half-an-hour later Douaille went on to Mentone, to the Hotel Splendide, where his wife and daughters are staying. No writing at all was done inthe room. "

"The conference has really begun, then, " Hunterleys observed moodily. 

"Without a doubt, " Roche declared. "I imagine, though, that the meetingthis evening was devoted to preliminaries. I am hoping next time, " hewent on, "to be able to pass on a little of what is said. "

"If we could only get the barest idea as to the nature of theproposals, " Hunterleys said earnestly. "Of course, one can surmise. Ourpeople are already warned as to the long conferences which have takenplace between Grex and Selingman. They mean something--there's no doubtabout that. And then this invitation to Douaille, and his coming here sofurtively. Everything points the same way, but a few spoken words arebetter than all the surmises in the world. It isn't that they areunreasonable at home, but they must be convinced. "

"It's the devil's own risk, " Roche sighed, "but I am hard at it. I wasabout the place yesterday as much as I dared. My plans are all ready nowbut things looked pretty awkward at the villa to-night. If they aregoing to have the grounds patrolled by servants every time they meet, I'm done. I've cut a pane of glass out of the dome over the library, andI've got a window-cleaning apparatus round at the back, and a ladder. The passage along the roof is quite easy and there's a good deal ofcover amongst the chimneys, but if they get a hint, it will be touch andgo. "

Hunterleys nodded. He was busy now, going through the long sheets ofwriting which the other young man had silently passed across to him. Forhalf-an-hour he read, making pencil notes now and then in the margin. When at last he had finished, he returned them and, sitting down at thetable, drew a packet of press cable sheets towards him and wrote forsome time steadily. When he had finished, he read through the result ofhis labours and leaned back thoughtfully in his chair. 

"You will send this off from Cannes with your own, Briston?" he asked. 

The young man assented. 

"The car will be here at three, " he announced. "They'll be on their wayby eight. "

"Press message, mind, to the _Daily Post_. If the operator wants to knowwhat 'Number 1' means after '_Daily Post_, ' you can tell him that itsimply indicates to which editorial room the message is to bedelivered. "

"That's a clever idea, " Roche mused. "Code dispatches to Downing Streetmight cause a little comment. "

"They wouldn't do from here, " Hunterleys declared. "They might be safeenough from Cannes but it's better to run no risks. These will be passedon to Downing Street, unopened. Be careful to-morrow, Sidney. "

"I can't see that they can do anything but throw me out, Sir Henry, "Roche remarked. "I have my _Daily Post_ authority in my pocket, and mypassport. Besides, I got the man here to announce in the _Monte CarloNews_ that I was the accredited correspondent for the district, and thatDavid Briston had been appointed by a syndicate of illustrated papers torepresent them out here. That's in case we get a chance of takingphotographs. I had some idea of going out to interview MonsieurDouaille. "

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"I shouldn't. The man's as nervous as he can be now, I am pretty sure ofthat. Don't do anything that might put him on his guard. Mind, for allwe know he may be an honest man. To listen to what these fellows have tosay doesn't mean that he's prepared to fall in with their schemes. Bythe by, you've nothing about the place, I suppose, if you should beraided?"

"Not a thing, " was the confident reply. "We are two English newspapercorrespondents, and there isn't a thing to be found anywhere that's notin keeping, except my rather large make-up outfit and my somewhat mixedwardrobe. I am not the only newspaper correspondent who goes in forthat, though. Then there's Felicia. They all know who she is and theyall know that she's my sister. Anyhow, even if I do get into trouble upat the Villa Mimosa, I can't see that I shall be looked upon as anythingmore than a prying newspaper correspondent. They can't hang me forthat. "

Hunterleys accepted a cigarette and lit it. 

"I needn't tell you fellows, " he said gravely, "that this place is alittle unlike any other in Europe. You may think you're safe enough, butall the same I wouldn't trust a living soul. By-the-by, I saw Felicia asI came in. You don't want her to break down, do you?"

"Good heavens, no!" her brother exclaimed. 

"Break down?" David repeated. "Don't suggest such a thing!"

"It struck me that she was rather nervy, " Hunterleys told them. "One ofyou ought to look after her for an hour or two to-morrow. "

"I can't spare a moment, " her brother sighed. 

"I'll take her out, " Briston declared eagerly. "There's nothing for meto do to-morrow till Sidney gets back. "

"Well, between you, keep an eye on her, " Hunterleys advised. "And, Sidney, I don't want to make a coward of you, and you and I both knowthat if there's danger ahead it's our job to face it, but have a care upat the Villa Mimosa. I don't fancy the law of this Principality wouldsee you out of any trouble if they got an idea that you were an EnglishSecret Service man. "

Roche laughed shortly. 

"Exactly my own idea, " he admitted. "However, we've got to see itthrough. I sha'n't consider I've done my work unless I hear something ofwhat Grex and the others have to say to Douaille the next time theymeet. "

Hunterleys found Felicia waiting for him outside. He shook his headreproachfully. 

"A future prima donna, " he said, "should go to bed at ten o'clock. "

She opened the door for him and walked down the path, her hands claspedin his arm. 

"A future prima donna, " she retorted, "can't do always what she likes. If I go to bed too early I cannot sleep. To-night I am excited andnervous. There isn't anything likely to bring trouble upon--them, isthere?"

"Certainly not, " he replied promptly. "Your brother is full ofenterprise, as you know. He runs a certain amount of risk in hiseagerness to acquire news, but I never knew a man so well able to takecare of himself. "

"And--and Mr. Briston?"

"Oh, he's all right, anyway, " Hunterleys assured her. "His is thesmaller part. "

She breathed a little sigh of relief. They had reached the gate. Shestill had something to say. Below them flared the lights of Monte Carlo. She looked down at them almost wistfully. 

"Very soon, " she murmured, "I shall know my fate. Sir Henry, " she addedsuddenly, "did I see Lady Hunterleys to-day on the Terrace?"

"Lady Hunterleys is here, " he replied. 

"Am I--ought I to go and see her?" she enquired. "You see, you have doneso much for me, I should like to do what you thought best. "

"Just as you like, child, " he replied, a little carelessly. 

She clung to his arm. She seemed unwilling to let him go. 

"Dear co-guardian, " she murmured, "to-night I felt for a little time sohappy, as though all the good things in life were close at hand. Then Iwatched you come up, and your step seemed so heavy, and you stooped asthough you had a load on your shoulders. "

He patted her hand. 

"Little girl, " he advised, "run away in and take care of your throat. Remember that everything depends upon the next few hours. As for me, perhaps I am getting a little old. "

"Oh, la, la!" she laughed. "That's what Sidney says when I tease him. Iknow I am only the mouse, but I could gnaw through very strong cords. Look!"

Her teeth gleamed white in the moonlight. He swung open the gate. 

"Sing your way into the hearts of all these strange people, " he badeher, smiling. "Sing the envy and malice away from them. Sing so thatthey believe that England, after all, is the one desirable country. "

"But I am going to sing in French, " she pouted. 

"Your name, " he reminded her, "that is English. 'The little Englishprima donna, ' that is what they will be calling you. "

She kissed his hands suddenly as he parted from her and swung off downthe hill. Then she stood at the gate, looking down at the glitteringlights. Would they shine as brightly for her, she wondered, intwenty-four hours' time? It was so much to strive for, so much to lose, so wonderfully much to gain. Slowly her eyes travelled upwards. Thesymbolism of those higher lights calmed her fear. She drew a great sighof happiness. 

"Felicia!"

She turned around with a soft little laugh. 

"David!"

CHAPTER XIX

"TAKE ME AWAY!"

Richard presented himself the next morning at the Hotel de Paris. 

"Cheero!" he exclaimed, on being shown into Hunterleys' sitting-room. "All right up to date, I see. "

Hunterleys nodded. He had just come in from the bank and held hisletters in his hand. Richard seated himself on the edge of the table. 

"I slept out on the yacht last night, " he said. "Got up at six o'clockand had a swim. What about a round of golf at La Turbie? We can get downagain by luncheon-time, before the people are about. "

"Afraid I can't, " Hunterleys replied. "I have rather an important letterto go through carefully, and a reply to think out. "

"You're a queer chap, you know, " Richard went on. "You always seem tohave something on but I'm hanged if I can see how you pass your timehere in Monte Carlo. This political business, even if you do have to putin a bit of time at it now and then, can't be going on all the while. Monte Carlo, too! So far as the women are concerned, they might as wellbe off the face of the earth, and I don't think I've ever seen you makea bet at the tables. How did your wife do last night? I thought sheseemed to be dropping it rather. "

"I think that she lost, " Hunterleys replied indifferently. "Hergambling, however, is like mine, I imagine, on a fairly negligiblescale. "

Richard whistled softly. 

"Well, I don't know, " he observed. "I saw her going for maximumsyesterday pretty steadily. A few thousands doesn't last very long atthat little game. "

Hunterleys smiled. 

"A few thousands!" he repeated. "I don't suppose Violet has ever lost orwon a hundred pounds in her life. "

Richard abandoned the subject quickly. He was obliged to tell himselfthat it was not his business to interfere between husband and wife. 

"Say, Hunterleys, " he suggested, "do you think I could do something forthe crowd on my little boat--a luncheon party or a cruise, eh?"

"I should think every one would enjoy it immensely, " Hunterleysanswered. 

"I can count on you, of course, if I arrange anything?"

"I am afraid not, " Hunterleys regretted. "I am too much engrossed now tomake any arrangements. "

"I'm hanged if you don't get more mysterious every moment!" Richardexclaimed vigorously. "What's it all about? Can't you even be safe inyour room for five minutes without keeping one of those little articlesunder your newspaper while you read your letters?" he added, liftingwith his stick the sheet which Hunterleys had hastily thrown over asmall revolver. "What's it all about, eh? Are you plotting to dethronethe Prince of Monaco and take his place?"

"Not exactly that, " Hunterleys replied, a little wearily. "Lane, oldfellow, you're much better off not to know too much. I have told youthat there's a kind of international conference going on about here andI've sort of been pitchforked into the affair. Over in your country youdon't know much about this sort of thing, but since I've been out ofharness I've done a good deal of what really amounts to Secret Servicework. One must serve one's country somehow or other, you know, if onegets the chance. "

Richard was impressed. 

"Gee!" he exclaimed. "The sort of thing that one reads about, eh, andonly half believes. Who's the French Johnny who arrived last night?"

"Douaille. He's the coming President, they say. I'm thinking of payinghim a visit of ceremony this afternoon. "

There was a knock at the door. A waiter entered with a note upon asalver. 

"From Madame, monsieur, " he announced, presenting it to Hunterleys. 

The latter tore it open and read the few lines hastily:

 _Dear Henry_, If you could spare a few minutes, I should be glad if you would come round to my apartment. 

 Yours, VIOLET. 

Hunterleys twisted the note up in his fingers. 

"Tell Lady Hunterleys that I will be round in a few moments, " heinstructed the servant. 

Richard took up his stick and hat. 

"If you have an opportunity, " he said, "ask Lady Hunterleys what shethinks about a little party on the yacht. If one could get the properpeople together--"

"I'll tell her, " Hunterleys promised. "You'd better wait till I getback. "

He made his way to the other wing of the hotel. For the first time sincehe had been staying there, he knocked at the door of his wife'sapartments. Her maid admitted him with a smile. He found Violet sittingin the little salon before a writing-table. The apartment wasluxuriously furnished and filled with roses. Somehow or other, theirodour irritated him. She rose from her place and hastened towards him. 

"How nice of you to come so promptly!" she exclaimed. "You're sure itdidn't inconvenience you?"

"Not in the least, " he replied. "I was only talking to Richard Lane. "

"You seem to have taken a great fancy to that young man all at once, "she remarked. 

Hunterleys was sitting upon the arm of an easy-chair. He had picked upone of Violet's slippers and was balancing it in his hand. 

"Oh, I don't know. He is rather refreshing after some of these people. He still has enthusiasms, and his love affair is quite a poem. Aren'tyou up rather early this morning?"

"I couldn't sleep, " she sighed. "I think it has come to me in the nightthat I am sick of this place. I wondered--"

She hesitated. He bent the slipper slowly back, waiting for her toproceed. 

"The Draconmeyers don't want to go, " she went on. "They are here foranother month, at least. Linda would miss me terribly, I suppose, but Ihave really given her a lot of my time. I have spent several hours withher every day since we arrived, and I don't know what it is--perhaps mybad luck, for one thing--but I have suddenly taken a dislike to theplace. I wondered--"

She had picked up one of the roses from a vase close at hand, and wastwirling it between her fingers. For some reason or other she seemed illat ease. Hunterleys watched her silently. She was very pale, but sincehis coming a slight tinge of pink colour had stolen into her cheeks. Shehad received him in a very fascinating garment of blue silk, which wasreally only a dressing-gown. It seemed to him a long time since he hadseen her in so intimate a fashion. 

"I wondered, " she concluded at last, almost abruptly, "whether you wouldcare to take me away. "

He was, for a moment, bereft of words. Somehow or other, he had been socertain that she had sent to him to ask for more money, that he hadnever even considered any other eventuality. 

"Take you away, " he repeated. "Do you really mean take you back toLondon, Violet?"

"Just anywhere you like, " she replied. "I am sick of this place and ofeverything. I am weary to death of trying to keep Linda cheerful--youdon't realise how depressing it is to be with her; and--and every oneseems to have got a little on my nerves. Mr. Draconmeyer, " she added, alittle defiantly, raising her eyes to his, "has been most kind anddelightful, but--somehow I want to get away. "

He sat down on the edge of a couch. She seated herself at the furtherend of it. 

"Violet, " he said, "you have taken me rather by surprise. "

"Well, you don't mind being taken by surprise once in a while, do you?"she asked, a little petulantly. "You know I am capricious--you have toldme so often enough. Here is a proof of it. Take me back to London or toParis, or wherever you like. "

He was almost overwhelmed. It was unfortunate that she had chosen thatmoment to look away and could not see, therefore, the light which glowedin his eyes. 

"Violet, " he assured her earnestly, "there is nothing in the world Ishould like so much. I would beg you to have your trunks packed thismorning, but unfortunately I cannot leave Monte Carlo just now. "

"Cannot leave Monte Carlo?" she repeated derisively. "Why, my dear man, you are a fish out of water here! You don't gamble, you do nothing butmoon about and go to the Opera and worry about your silly politics. Whaton earth do you mean when you say that you cannot leave Monte Carlo?"

"I mean just what I say, " he replied. "I cannot leave Monte Carlo forseveral days, at any rate. "

She looked at him blankly, a little incredulously. 

"You have talked like this before, Henry, " she said, "and it is all tooabsurd. You must tell me the truth now. You can have no business here. You are travelling for pleasure. You can surely leave a place or not atyour own will?"

"It happens, " he sighed, "that I cannot. Will you please be very kind, Violet, and not ask me too much about this? If there is anything else Ican do, " he went on, hesitatingly, "if you will give me a little more ofyour time, if you will wait with me for a few days longer--"

"Can't you understand, " she interrupted impatiently, "that it is justthis very moment, this instant, that I want to get away? Something hasgone wrong. I want to leave Monte Carlo. I am not sure that I ever wantto see it again. And I want you to take me. .. . Please!"

She held out her hands, swaying a little towards him. He gripped them inhis. She yielded to their pressure until their lips almost met. 

"You'll take me away this morning?" she whispered. 

"I cannot do that, " he replied, "but, Violet--"

She snatched herself away from him. An ungovernable fit of fury seemedto have seized her. She stood in the centre of the room and stamped herfoot. 

"You cannot!" she repeated. "And you will not give me a reason? Verywell, I have done my best, I have made my appeal. I will stay in MonteCarlo, then. I will--"

There was a knock at the door. 

"Come in, " she cried. "Who is it?"

The door was softly opened. Draconmeyer stood upon the threshold. Helooked from one to the other in some surprise. 

"I am sorry, " he murmured. "Please excuse me. "

"Come in, Mr. Draconmeyer, " she called out to his retreating figure. "Come in, please. How is Linda this morning?"

Draconmeyer smiled a little ruefully as he returned. 

"Complaining, " he replied, "as usual. I am afraid that she has hadrather a bad night. She is going to try and sleep for an hour or two. Icame to see if you felt disposed for a motor ride this morning?"

"I should love it, " she assented. "I should like to start as soon aspossible. Henry was just going, weren't you?" she added, turning to herhusband. 

He stood his ground. 

"There was something else I wished to say, " he declared, glancing atDraconmeyer. 

The latter moved at once towards the door but Violet stopped him. 

"Not now, " she begged. "If there is really anything else, Henry, you cansend up a note, or I dare say we shall meet at the Club to-night. Now, please, both of you go away. I must change my clothes for motoring. Inhalf an hour, Mr. Draconmeyer. "

"The car will be ready, " he answered. 

Hunterleys hesitated. He looked for a moment at Violet. She returned hisglance of appeal with a hard, fixed stare. Then she turned away. 

"Susanne, " she called to her maid, who was in the inner room, "I amdressing at once. I will show you what to put out. "

She disappeared, closing the connecting door behind her. The two menwalked out to the lift in silence. Draconmeyer rang the bell. 

"You are not leaving Monte Carlo at present, then, Sir Henry?" heremarked. 

"Not at present, " Hunterleys replied calmly. 

They parted without further speech. Hunterleys returned to his room, where Richard was still waiting. 

"Say, have you got a valet here with you?" the young man enquired. 

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"Never possessed such a luxury in my life, " he declared. 

"Chap came in here directly you were gone--mumbled something about doingsomething for you. I didn't altogether like the look of him, so I sat onthe table and watched. He hung around for a moment, and then, when hesaw that I was sticking it out, he went off. "

"Was he wearing the hotel livery?" Hunterleys asked quickly. 

"Plain black clothes, " Richard replied. "He looked the valet, rightenough. "

Hunterleys rang the bell. It was answered by a servant in grey livery. 

"Are you the valet on this floor?" Hunterleys enquired. 

"Yes, sir!"

"There was a man in here just now, said he was my valet or something ofthe sort, hung around for a minute or two and then went away. Who washe?"

The servant shook his head. He was apparently a German, and stupid. 

"There are no valets on this floor except myself, " he declared. 

"Then who could this person have been?" Hunterleys demanded. 

"A tailor, perhaps, " the man suggested, "but he would not come unlessyou had ordered him. I have been on duty all the time. I have seen noone about. "

"Very well, " Hunterleys said, "I'll report the matter in the office. "

"Some hotel thief, I suppose, " Lane remarked, as soon as the door wasclosed. "He didn't look like it exactly, though. "

Hunterleys frowned. 

"Not much here to satisfy any one's curiosity, " he observed. "Just aswell you were in the room, though. "

"Surrounded by mysteries, aren't you, old chap?" Richard yawned, lighting a cigarette. 

"I don't know exactly about that, " Hunterleys replied, "but I'll tellyou one thing, Lane. There are things going on in Monte Carlo at thepresent moment which would bring out the black headlines on thehalfpenny papers if they had an inkling of them. There are people herewho are trying to draw up a new map of Europe, a new map of the world. "

Richard shook his head. 

"I can't get interested in anything, Hunterleys, " he declared. "Youcould tell me the most amazing things in the world and they'd pass in atone ear and out at the other. Kind of a blithering idiot, eh? You knowwhat I did last night after dinner. If you'll believe me, when I got tothe villa, I found the place patrolled as though they were afraid ofdynamiters. I skulked round to the back, got on the beach, and climbed alittle way up towards the rock garden. I hid there and waited to see ifshe'd come out on the terrace. She never came, but I caught a glimpse ofher passing from one room to another, and I tell you I'm such a poorsort of an idiot that I felt repaid for waiting there all that time. Ishall go there again to-night. The boys wanted me to dine--EddyLanchester and Montressor and that lot--a jolly party, too. I sha'n't doit. I shall have a mouthful alone somewhere and spend the rest of theevening on those rocks. Something's got to come of this, Hunterleys. "

"Let's go into the lounge for a few moments, " Hunterleys suggested. "Imay as well hear all about it. "

They made their way downstairs, and sat there talking, or ratherHunterleys listened while Richard talked. Then Draconmeyer strolledacross the hall and waited by the lift. Presently he returned withViolet by his side, followed by her maid, carrying rugs. As theyapproached, Hunterleys rose slowly to his feet. Violet was looking upinto her companion's face, talking and laughing. She either did not seeHunterleys, or affected not to. He stood, for a moment, irresolute. Then, as she passed, she glanced at him quite blankly and waved her handto Richard. The two disappeared. Hunterleys resumed his seat. He had, somehow or other, the depressing feeling of a man who has lost a greatopportunity. 

"Lady Hunterleys looks well this morning, " Lane remarked, absolutelyunconscious of anything unusual. 

Hunterleys watched the car drive off before he answered. 

"She looks very well, " he assented gloomily. 

CHAPTER XX

WILY MR. DRACONMEYER

They had skirted the wonderful bay and climbed the mountainous hill tothe frontier before Violet spoke. All the time Draconmeyer leaned backby her side, perfectly content. A man of varied subtleties, heunderstood and fully appreciated the intrinsic value of silence. Whilstthe Customs officer, however, was making out the deposit note for thecar, she turned to him. 

"Will you tell me something, Mr. Draconmeyer?"

"Of course!"

"It is about my husband, " she went on. "Henry isn't your friend--youdislike one another, I know. You men seem to have a sort of freemasonrywhich compels you to tell falsehoods about one another, but in this caseI am going to remind you that I have the greater claim, and I am goingto ask you for the sober truth. Henry has once or twice, during the lastfew days, hinted to me that his presence in Monte Carlo just now hassome sort of political significance. He is very vague about it all, buthe evidently wants me to believe that he is staying here against his owninclinations. Now I want to ask you a plain question. Is it likely thathe could have any business whatever to transact for the Government inMonte Carlo? What I mean is, could there possibly be anything to keephim in this place which for political reasons he couldn't tell meabout?"

"I can answer your question finally so far as regards any Governmentbusiness, " Mr. Draconmeyer assured her. "Your husband's Party is inOpposition. As a keen politician, he would not be likely to interesthimself in the work of his rival. "

"You are quite sure, " she persisted, "you are quite sure that he couldnot have a mission of any sort?--that there isn't any meeting ofdiplomatists here in which he might be interested?"

Mr. Draconmeyer smiled with the air of one listening to a child'sprattle. 

"If I were not sure that you are in earnest--!" he began. "However, Iwill just answer your question. Nothing of the sort is possible. Besides, people don't come to Monte Carlo for serious affairs, youknow. "

Her face hardened a little. 

"I suppose, " she said, "that you are quite sure of what you told me theother evening about this young singer--Felicia Roche?"

"I should not allude to a matter of that sort, " he declared, "unless Ihad satisfied myself as to the facts. It is true that I owe nothing toyour husband and everything to you, or I should have probably remainedsilent. As it is, all that I know is at your service. Felicia Roche isto make her début at the Opera House to-night. Your husband has beenseen with her repeatedly. He was at her villa at one o'clock thismorning. I have heard it said that he is a little infatuated. "

"Thank you, " she murmured, "that is quite enough. "

The formalities were concluded and the car drove on. They paused at thelast turn to gaze downward at the wonderful view--the gorgeous Bay ofMentone, a thousand feet below, with its wealth of mimosa-embosomedvillas; Monte Carlo glittering on the sea-board; the sweep of Monaco, red-roofed, picturesque. And behind, the mountains, further away still, the dim, snow-capped heights. Violet looked, as she was bidden, but hereyes seemed incapable of appreciation. When the car moved on, she leanedback in her seat and dropped her veil. She was paler even than when theyhad started. 

"I am going to talk to you very little, " he said gravely. "I want youjust to rest and breathe this wonderful air. If my reply to yourquestion troubles you, I am sorry, but you had to know it some day. Itis a wrench, of course, but you must have guessed it. Your husband is aman of peculiar temperament, but no man could have refused such an offeras you made him, unless there had been some special reason for it--noman in the world. "

There was a little tremble in his tone, artistic and not overdone. Somehow, she felt that his admiration ministered to her self-respect. She permitted his hand to remain upon hers. The touch of her fingersvery nearly brought the torrent from his lips. He crushed the wordsdown, however. It was too great a risk. Very soon things would bedifferent; he could afford to wait. 

They drove on to San Remo and turned into the hotel. 

"You are better away from Monte Carlo for a few hours, " he decided. "Wewill lunch here and drive back afterwards. You will feel greatlyrefreshed. "

She accepted his suggestion without enthusiasm and with very little showof pleasure. They found a table on the terrace in a retired corner, surrounded with flowering cactus plants and drooping mimosa, andoverhung by a giant oleander tree. He talked to her easily but ingossiping fashion only, and always with the greatest respect. It was notuntil the arrival of their coffee that he ventured to become at allpersonal. 

"Will you forgive me if I talk without reserve for a few moments?" hebegan, leaning a little towards her. "You have your troubles, I know. May I not remind you that you are not alone in your sorrows? Linda, asyou know, has no companionship whatever to offer. She does nothing butindulge in fretful regrets over her broken health. When I remember, too, how lonely your days are, and think of your husband and what he mightmake of them, then I cannot help realising with absolute vividness thesupreme irony of fate. Here am I, craving for nothing so much on earthas the sympathy, the affection of--shall I say such a woman as you? Andyour husband, who might have the best, remains utterly indifferent, content with something far below the second best. And there is so muchin life, too, " he went on, regretfully. "I cannot tell you how difficultit is for me to sit still and see you worried about such a trifle asmoney. Fancy the joy of giving you money!"

She awoke a little from her lethargy. She looked at him, startled. 

"You haven't told me yet, " he added, "how the game went last night?"

"I lost every penny of that thousand pounds, " she declared. "That is whyI sent for my husband this morning and asked him to take me back toEngland. I am getting afraid of the place. My luck seems to have gonefor ever. "

He laughed softly. 

"That doesn't sound like you, " he observed. "Besides, what does itmatter? Write me out some more cheques when we get back. Date them thisyear or next, or the year after--it really doesn't matter a bit. Myfortune is at your disposal. If it amuses you to lose a thousand poundsin the afternoon, and twice as much at night, pray do. "

She laughed at him. There was a certain glamour about his words whichappealed to her fancy. 

"Why, you talk like a prince, " she murmured, "and yet you know howimpossible it is. "

"Is it?" he asked quietly. 

She rose abruptly from her place. There was something wrong--she felt itin the atmosphere--something that was almost choking her. 

"Let us go back, " she insisted. 

He ordered the car without another word and they started off homewards. It was not until they were nearing Monte Carlo that he spoke of anythingsave the slightest topics. 

"You must have a little more money, " he told her, in a matter-of-facttone. "That is a necessity. There is no need to worry your husband. Ishall go and bring you a thousand pounds. You can give me the chequeslater. "

She sat looking steadfastly ahead of her. She seemed to see her numbersspread out before her, to hear the click of the ball, the croupier'svoice, the thrill of victory. 

"I have taken more money from you than I meant to, already, Mr. Draconmeyer, " she protested. "Does Linda know how much you have lentme?"

He shrugged his shoulders. 

"What is the use of telling her? She does not understand. She has neverfelt the gambling fever, the joy of it, the excitement. She would not bestrong enough. You and I understand. I have felt it in the money-marketsof the world, where one plays with millions, where a mistake might meanruin. That is why the tables seem dull for me, but all the same it comeshome to me. "

She felt the fierce stimulus of anxious thought. She knew very well thatnotwithstanding his quiet manner, she had reason to fear the man who satby her side. She feared his self-restraint, she feared the light whichsometimes gleamed in his eyes when he fancied himself unobserved. Hegave her no cause for complaint. All the time his behaviour had beenirreproachable. And yet she felt, somehow or other, like a bird who isbeing hunted by a trapper, a trapper who knows his business, who goesabout it with quiet confidence, with absolute certainty. There wassomething like despair in her heart. 

"Well, I suppose I shall have to stay here, " she said, "and I can't stayhere without playing. I will take a thousand more, if you will lend itto me. "

"You shall have it directly we get to the hotel, " he told her. "Don'thurry with the cheques, and don't date them too soon. Remember that youmust have something to live on when you get back. "

"I am going to win, " she declared confidently. "I am going to win enoughto pay you back every penny. "

"I won't say that I hope not, " he observed, "for your sake, but it willcertainly give me no pleasure to have the money back again. You are sucha wonderful person, " he added, dropping his voice, "that I rather liketo feel that I can be a little useful to you. "

They had neared the end of their journey and Mr. Draconmeyer touched herarm. A faint smile was playing about his lips. Certainly the fates werebefriending him! He said nothing, but her eyes followed the slightmotion of his head. Coming down the steps from Ciro's were her husbandand Felicia Roche. Violet looked at them for a moment. Then she turnedher head away. 

"Most inopportune, " she sighed, with a little attempt at gaiety. "Shallwe meet later at the Club?"

"Assuredly, " Mr. Draconmeyer replied. "I will send the money to yourroom. "

"Thank you once more, " she said, "and thank you, too, for my drive. Ihave enjoyed it very much. I am very glad indeed that I had the courageto make you tell me the truth. "

"I hope, " he whispered, as he handed her out, "that you will never lackthe courage to ask me anything. "

CHAPTER XXI

ASSASSINATION!

Selingman, a large cigar between his lips and a happy smile upon hisface, stood in the square before the Casino, watching the pigeons. Hehad just enjoyed an excellent lunch, he was exceedingly pleased with anew light grey suit which he was wearing, and his one unsatisfied desirewas for companionship. Draconmeyer was away motoring with LadyHunterleys, Mr. Grex was spending the early part of the day in conclavewith their visitor from France, and Mademoiselle Nipon had gone to Nicefor the day. Selingman had been left to his own devices and wasbeginning to find time hang upon his hands. Conversation andcompanionship were almost as great necessities with him as wine. Hebeamed upon the pigeons and looked around at the people dotted about inchairs outside the Café de Paris, hoping to find an acquaintance. Itchanced, however, that he saw nothing but strangers. Then his eyes fellupon a man who was seated with folded arms a short distance away, a manof respectable but somewhat gloomy appearance, dressed in dark clothes, with pale cheeks and cavernous eyes. Selingman strolled towards him. 

"How go things, friend Allen?" he enquired, dropping his voice a little. 

The man glanced uneasily around. There was, however, no one in hisimmediate vicinity. 

"Badly, " he admitted. 

"Still no success, eh?" Selingman asked, drawing up a chair and seatinghimself. 

"The man is secretive by nature, " was the gloomy reply. "One wouldimagine that he knew he was being watched. Everything which he receivesin the way of a written communication is at once torn up. He is the mostdifficult order of person to deal with--he is methodical. He has onlythe hotel valet to look after his things but everything is always in itsplace. Yesterday I went through his waste-paper basket. I took home thecontents but the pieces were no larger than sixpences. I was able to puttogether one envelope which he received yesterday morning, which wasfranked 'On His Majesty's Service, ' and the post-mark of which wasDowning Street. "

Selingman shook his head ponderously and then replied seriously:

"You must do better than that, my Sherlock Holmes--much better. "

"I can't make bricks without straw, " Allen retorted sullenly. 

"There is always straw if one looks in the right place, " Selingmaninsisted, puffing away at his cigar. "What we want to discover is, exactly how much does Hunterleys know of certain operations of ourswhich are going on here? He is on the watch--that I am sure of. There isone known agent in the place, and another suspected one, and I am prettycertain that they are both working at his instigation. What we want toget hold of is one of his letters to London. "

"I have been in and out of his rooms at all hours, " the other said. "Ihave gone into the matter thoroughly, so thoroughly that I have taken asituation with a firm of English tailors here, and I am supposed to goout and tout for orders. That gives me a free entrée to the hotel. Ihave even had a commission from Sir Henry himself. He gave me a coat toget some buttons sewn on. I am practically free of his room but what'sthe good? He doesn't even lead the Monte Carlo life. He doesn't give onea chance of getting at him through a third person. No notes from ladies, no flower or jewelry bills, not the shadow of an assignation. The onlyphotograph upon his table is a photograph of Lady Hunterleys. "

"Better not tell our friend Draconmeyer that, " Selingman observed, smiling to himself. "Well, well, you can do nothing but persevere, Allen. We are not niggardly masters. If a man fails through no fault ofhis own, well, we don't throw him into the street. Nothing parsimoniousabout us. No need for you to sit about with a face as long as a fiddlebecause you can't succeed all at once. We are the people to kick at it, not you. Drink a little more wine, my friend. Give yourself a liqueurafter luncheon. Stick a cigar in your mouth and go and sit in thesunshine. Make friends with some of the ladies. Remember, the sun willstill shine and the music play in fifty years' time, but not for you. Come and see me when you want some more money. "

"You are very kind, sir, " the man replied. "I am going across to thehotel now. Sir Henry has been about there most of the morning but he hasjust gone in to Ciro's to lunch, so I shall have at least half-an-hour. "

"Good luck to you!" Selingman exclaimed heartily. "Who knows but thatthe big things may come, even this afternoon? Cheer up, and try and makeyourself believe that a letter may be lying on the table, a letter heforgot to post, or one sent round from the bank since he left. I amhopeful for you this afternoon, Allen. I believe you are going to dowell. Come up and see me afterwards, if you will. I am going to my hotelto lie down for half-an-hour. I am not really tired but I have no friendhere to talk with or anything to do, and it is a wise economy of thehuman frame. To-night, mademoiselle will have returned. Just now everyone has deserted me. I will rest until six o'clock. Au revoir, friendAllen! Au revoir!"

Selingman climbed the hill and entered the hotel where he was staying. He mounted to his room, took off his coat, at which he glancedadmiringly for a moment and then hung up behind the door. Finally hepulled down the blinds and lay down to rest. Very soon he was asleep. .. . 

The drowsy afternoon wore on. Through the open windows came the sound ofcarriages driven along the dusty way, the shouts of the coachmen totheir horses, the jingling of bells, the hooting of motor horns. A limetree, whose leaves were stirred by the languorous breeze, kept tappingagainst the window. From a further distance came the faint, muffledvoices of promenaders, and the echo of the guns from the Tir du Pigeons. But through it all, Selingman, lying on his back and snoring loudly, slept. He was awakened at last by the feeling that some one had enteredthe room. He sat up and blinked. 

"Hullo!" he exclaimed. 

A man in the weird disguise of a motor-cyclist was standing at the footof the bed. Selingman continued to blink. He was not wholly awake andhis visitor's appearance was unpleasant. 

"Who the devil are you?" he enquired. 

The visitor took off his disfiguring spectacles. 

"Jean Coulois--behold!" was the soft reply. 

Selingman raised himself and slid off the bed. It had seemed rather likea dream. He was wide-awake now, however. 

"What do you want?" he asked. "What are you here for?"

Jean Coulois said nothing. Then very slowly from the inside pocket ofhis coat he drew a newspaper parcel. It was long and narrow, and inplaces there was a stain upon the paper. Selingman stared at it andstared back at Jean Coulois. 

"What the mischief have you got there?" he demanded. 

Coulois touched the parcel with his yellow forefinger. Selingman sawthen that the stains were of blood. 

"Give me a towel, " his visitor directed. "I do not want this upon myclothes. "

Selingman took a towel from the stand and threw it across the room. 

"You mean, " he asked, dropping his voice a little, "that it isfinished?"

"A quarter of an hour ago, " Jean Coulois answered triumphantly. "He hadjust come in from luncheon and was sitting at his writing-table. It wascleverly done--wonderfully. It was all over in a moment--not a cry. Youcame to the right place, indeed! And now I go to the country, " Couloiscontinued. "I have a motor-bicycle outside. I make my way up into thehills to bury this little memento. There is a farmhouse up in themountains, a lonely spot enough, and a girl there who says what I tellher. It may be as well to be able to say that I have been there fordéjeuner. These little things, monsieur--ah, well! we who understandthink of them. And since I am here, " he added, holding out his hand--

Selingman nodded and took out his pocket-book. He counted out the notesin silence and passed them over. The assassin dropped them into hispocket. 

"Au revoir, Monsieur le Gros!" he exclaimed, waving his hand. "We meetto-night, I trust. I will show you a new dance--the Dance of Death, Ishall call it. I seem calm, but I am on fire with excitement. To-night Ishall dance as though quicksilver were in my feet. You must not miss it. You must come, monsieur. "

He closed the door behind him and swaggered off down the passage. Selingman stood, for a moment, perfectly still. It was a strange thing, but two big tears were in his eyes. Then he heaved a great sigh andshook his head. 

"It is part of the game, " he said softly to himself, "all part of thegame. "

CHAPTER XXII

THE WRONG MAN

Selingman came out into the sunlit streets very much as a man who leavesa dark and shrouded room. The shock of tragedy was still upon him. Therewas a little choke in his throat as he mingled with the careless, pleasure-loving throng, mostly wending their way now towards the Roomsor the Terrace. As he crossed the square towards the Hotel de Paris, hissteps grew slower and slower. He looked at the building half-fearfully. Beautifully dressed women, men of every nationality, were passing in andout all the time. The commissionaire, with his little group ofsatellites, stood sunning himself on the lowest step, a splendid, complacent figure. There was no sign there of the horror that was hiddenwithin. Even while he looked up at the windows he felt a hand upon hisarm. Draconmeyer had caught him up and had fallen into step with him. 

"Well, dear philosopher, " he exclaimed, "why this subdued aspect? Hasyour solitary day depressed you?"

Selingman turned slowly around. Draconmeyer's eyes beneath hisgold-rimmed spectacles were bright. He was carrying himself with lessthan his usual stoop, he wore a red carnation in his buttonhole. He wasin spirits which for him were almost boisterous. 

"Have you been in there?" Selingman asked, in a low tone. 

Draconmeyer glanced at the hotel and back again at his companion. 

"In where?" he demanded. "In the hotel? I left Lady Hunterleys there ashort time ago. I have been up to the bank since. "

"You don't know yet, then?"

"Know what?"

There was a momentary silence. Draconmeyer suddenly gripped hiscompanion by the arm. 

"Go on, " he insisted. "Tell me?"

"It's all over!" Selingman exclaimed hoarsely. "Jean Coulois came to mea quarter of an hour ago. It is finished. Damnation, Draconmeyer, let gomy arm!"

Draconmeyer withdrew his fingers. There was no longer any stoop abouthim at all. He stood tall and straight, his lips parted, his face turnedupwards, upwards as though he would gaze over the roof of the hotelbefore which they were standing, up to the skies. 

"My God, Selingman!" he cried. "My God!"

The seconds passed. Then Draconmeyer suddenly took his companion by thearm. 

"Come, " he said, "let us take that first seat in the gardens there. Letus talk. Somehow or other, although I half counted upon this, I scarcelybelieved. .. . Let us sit down. Do you think it is known yet?"

"Very likely not, " Selingman answered, as they crossed the road andentered the gardens. "Coulois found him in his rooms, seated at thewriting-table. It was all over, he declares, in ten seconds. He came tome--with the knife. He was on his way to the mountains to hide it. "

They found a seat under a drooping lime tree. They could still see thehotel and the level stretch of road that led past the post-office andthe Club to Monaco. Draconmeyer sat with his eyes fixed upon the hotel, through which streams of people were still passing. One of theunder-managers was welcoming the newcomers from a recently arrivedtrain. 

"You are right, " he murmured. "Nothing is known yet. Very likelythey will not know until the valet goes to lay out his clothes fordinner. .. . Dead!"

Selingman, with one hand gripping the iron arm of the seat, watched hiscompanion's face with a sort of fascinated curiosity. There were beadsof perspiration upon Draconmeyer's forehead, but his expression, in itsway, was curious. There was no horror in his face, no fear, no shadow ofremorse. Some wholly different sentiment seemed to have transformed theman. He was younger, more virile. He seemed as though he could scarcelysit still. 

"My friend, " Selingman said, "I know that you are one of our children, that you are one of those who have seen the truth and worked steadfastlyfor the great cause with the heart of a patriot and the unswervingfidelity of a strong man. But tell me the honest truth. There issomething else in your life--you have some other feeling about this manHunterleys' death?"

Draconmeyer removed his eyes from the front of the hotel and turnedslowly towards his companion. There was a transfiguring smile upon hislips. Again he gave Selingman the impression of complete rejuvenation, of an elderly man suddenly transformed into something young andvigorous. 

"There is something else, Selingman, " he confessed. "This is the momentwhen I dare speak of it. I will tell you first of any living person. There is a woman over there whom I have set up as an idol, and beforewhose shrine I have worshipped. There is a woman over there who hasturned the dull paths of my life into a flowery way. I am a patriot, andI have worked for my country, Selingman, as you have worked. But I haveworked, also, that I might taste for once before I die the greatpassion. Don't stare at me, man! Remember I am not like you. You canlaugh your way through the world, with a kiss here and a bow there, aribbon to your lips at night, thrown to the winds in the morning. Ihaven't that sort of philosophy. Love doesn't come to me like that. It'sset in my heart amongst the great things. It's set there side by sidewith the greatest of all. "

"His wife!" Selingman muttered. 

"Are you so colossal a fool as only to have guessed it at this moment?"Draconmeyer continued contemptuously. "If he hadn't blundered across ourpath here, if he hadn't been my political enemy, I should still some dayhave taken him by the throat and killed him. You don't know what risks Ihave been running, " he went on, with a sudden hoarseness. "In her heartshe half loves him still. If he hadn't been a fool, a prejudiced, over-conscientious, stiff-necked fool, I should have lost her within thelast twenty-four hours. I have had to fight and scheme as I have neverfought and schemed before, to keep them apart. I have had to pick my waythrough shoals innumerable, hold myself down when I have been burning togrip her by the wrists and tell her that all that a man could offer awoman was hers. Selingman, this sounds like nonsense, I suppose. "

"No, " Selingman murmured, "not nonsense, but it doesn't sound likeDraconmeyer. "

"Well, it's finished, " Draconmeyer declared, with a great sigh ofcontent. "You know now. I enter upon the final stage. I had only onefear. Jean Coulois has settled that for me. I wonder whether they know. It seems peaceful enough. No! Look over there, " he added, gripping hiscompanion's arm. "Peter, the concierge, is whispering with the others. That is one of the managers there, out on the pavement, talking tothem. "

Selingman pointed down the road towards Monaco. 

"See!" he exclaimed. "There is a motor-car coming in a hurry. I fancythat the alarm must have been given. "

A grey, heavily-built car came along at a great pace and swung round infront of the Hotel de Paris. The two men stood on the pavement andwatched. A tall, official-looking person, with black, upturnedmoustache, in somber uniform and a peaked cap, descended. 

"The Commissioner of Police, " Selingman whispered, "and that is a doctorwho has just gone in. He has been found!"

They crossed the road to the hotel. The concierge removed his hat asthey turned to enter. To all appearances he was unchanged--fat, florid, splendid. Draconmeyer stepped close to him. 

"Has anything happened here, Peter?" he asked. "I saw the Commissionerof Police arrive in a great hurry. "

The man hesitated. It was obvious then that he was disturbed. He lookedto the right and to the left. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, heseemed to make up his mind to tell the truth. 

"It is the English gentleman, Sir Henry Hunterleys, " he whispered. "Hehas been found stabbed to death in his room. "

"Dead?" Draconmeyer demanded, insistently. 

"Stone dead, sir, " the concierge replied. "He was stabbed by some onewho stole in through the bathroom--they say that he couldn't ever havemoved again. The Commissioner of Police is upstairs. The ambulance isround at the back to take him off to the Mortuary. "

Selingman suddenly seized the man by the arm. His eyes were fixed uponthe topmost step. Violet stood there, smiling down upon them. She waswearing a black and white gown, and a black hat with white ospreys. Itwas the hour of five o'clock tea and many people were passing in andout. She came gracefully down the steps. The two men remainedspeechless. 

"I have been waiting for you, Mr. Draconmeyer, " she remarked, smiling. 

Draconmeyer remembered suddenly the packet of notes which he had been tofetch from the bank. He tried to speak but only faltered. Selingman hadremoved his hat but he, too, seemed incapable of coherent speech. Shelooked at them both, astonished. 

"Whatever is the matter with you both?" she exclaimed. "Who is comingwith me to the Club? I decided to come this way round to see if I couldchange my luck. That underground passage depresses me. "

Draconmeyer moved up a couple of steps. He was quite himself now, gravebut solicitous. 

"Lady Hunterleys, " he said, "I am sorry, but there has been a littleaccident. I am afraid that your husband has been hurt. If you will comeback to your room for a minute I will tell you about it. "

All the colour died slowly from her face. She swayed a little, but whenDraconmeyer would have supported her she pushed him away. 

"An accident?" she muttered. "I must go and see for myself. "

She turned and re-entered the hotel swiftly. Draconmeyer caught her upin the hall. 

"Lady Hunterleys, " he begged earnestly, "please take my advice. I amyour friend, you know. I want you to go straight to your room. I willcome with you. I will explain to you then--"

"I am going to Henry, " she interrupted, without even a glance towardshim. "I am going to my husband at once. I must see what has happened. "

She rang the bell for the lift, which appeared almost immediately. Draconmeyer stepped in with her. 

"Lady Hunterleys, " he persisted, "I beg of you to do as I ask. Let metake you to your rooms. I will tell you all that has happened. Yourhusband will not be able to see you or speak with you. "

"I shall not get out, " she declared, when the lift boy, in obedience toDraconmeyer's imperative order, stopped at her floor. "If I may not goon in the lift, I shall walk up the stairs. I am going to my husband. "

"He will not recognise you, " Draconmeyer warned her. "I am very sorryindeed, Lady Hunterleys--I would spare you this shock if I could--butyou must be prepared for very serious things. "

They had reached the next floor now. The boy opened the gate of the liftand she stepped out. She looked pitifully at Draconmeyer. 

"You aren't going to tell me that he is dead?" she moaned. 

"I am afraid he is, " Draconmeyer assented. 

She staggered across the landing, pushing him away from her. There werefour or five people standing outside the door of Hunterleys' apartment. She appealed to them. 

"Let me go in at once, " she ordered. "I am Lady Hunterleys. "

"The door is locked, " one of the men declared. 

"Let me go in, " she insisted. 

She pushed them on one side and hammered at the door. They could hearvoices inside. In a moment it was opened. It was the Commissioner of thePolice who stood there--tall, severe, official. 

"Madame?" he exclaimed. 

"I am his wife!" she cried. "Let me in--let me in at once!"

She forced her way into the room. Something was lying on the bed, covered with a sheet. She looked at it and shrieked. 

"Madame, " the Commissioner begged, "pray compose yourself. A tragedy hashappened in this room--but we are not sure. Can you be brave, madame?"

"I can, " she answered. "Of what are you not sure?"

The Commissioner turned down the sheet a few inches. A man's face wasvisible, a ghastly sight. She looked at it and shrieked hysterically. 

"Is that your husband, madame?" the Commissioner asked quickly. 

"Thank God, no!" she cried. "You are sure this is the man?" she went on, her voice shaking with fierce excitement. "There is no one else--hurt?No one else stabbed? This is the man they told me was my husband?"

"He was found there, sitting at your husband's table, madame, " theCommissioner of Police assured her. "There is no one else. "

She suddenly began to cry. 

"It isn't Henry!" she sobbed, groping her way from the room. "Take medownstairs, please, some one. "

CHAPTER XXIII

TROUBLE BREWING

The maître d'hôtel had presented his bill. The little luncheon party wasalmost over. 

"So I take leave, " Hunterleys remarked, as he sat down his empty liqueurglass, "of one of my responsibilities in life. "

"I think I'd like to remain a sort of half ward, please, " Feliciaobjected, "in case David doesn't treat me properly. "

"If he doesn't, " Hunterleys declared, "he will have me to answer to. Seriously, I think you young people are very wise and very foolish andvery much to be envied. What does Sidney say about it?"

Felicia made a little grimace. She glanced around but the tables nearthem were unoccupied. 

"Sidney is much too engrossed in his mysterious work to concern himselfvery much about anything, " she replied. "Do you know that he has beenout all night two nights this week already, and he is making no end ofpreparations for to-day?"

Hunterleys nodded. 

"I know that he is very busy just now, " he assented gravely. "I mustcome up and talk to him this afternoon. "

"We left him writing, " Felicia said. "Of course, he declares that it isfor his beloved newspaper, but I am not sure. He scarcely ever goes outin the daytime. What can he have to write about? David's work isstrenuous enough, and I have told him that if he turns war correspondentagain, I shall break it off. "

"We all have our work to do in life, " Hunterleys reminded her. "You haveto sing in _Aïda_ to-night, and you have to do yourself justice for thesake of a great many people. Your brother has his work to do, also. Whatever the nature of it may be, he has taken it up and he must gothrough with it. It would be of no use his worrying for fear that youshould forget your words or your notes to-night, and there is no purposein your fretting because there may be danger in what he has to do. Ipromise you that so far as I can prevent it, he shall take nounnecessary risks. Now, if you like, I will walk home with you youngpeople, if I sha'n't be terribly in the way. I know that Sidney wants tosee me. "

They left the restaurant, a few minutes later, and strolled up towardsthe town. Hunterleys paused outside a jeweler's shop. 

"And now for the important business of the day!" he declared. "I mustbuy you an engagement present, on behalf of myself and all yourguardians. Come in and help me choose, both of you. A girl who carriesher gloves in her hand to show her engagement ring, should have a betterbag to hang from that little finger. "

"You really are the most perfect person that ever breathed!" she sighed. "You know I don't deserve anything of the sort. "

They paid their visit to the jeweler and afterwards drove up to thevilla in a little victoria. Sidney Roche was hard at work in hisshirt-sleeves. He greeted Hunterleys warmly. 

"Glad you've come up!" he exclaimed. "The little girl's told you thenews, I suppose?"

"Rather!" Hunterleys replied. "I have been lunching with them on thestrength of it. "

"And look!" Felicia cried, holding out the gold bag which hung from herfinger. "Look how I am being spoiled. "

Her brother sighed. 

"Awful nuisance for me, " he grumbled, "having to live with an engagedcouple. You couldn't clear out for a little time, " he suggested, "bothof you? I want to talk to Hunterleys. "

"We'll go and sit in the garden, " Felicia assented. "I suppose I oughtto rest. David shall read my score to me. "

They passed out and Roche closed the door behind them carefully. 

"Anything fresh?" Hunterleys asked. 

"Nothing particular, " was the somewhat guarded reply. "That fellowFrenhofer has been up here. "

"Frenhofer?" Hunterleys repeated, interrogatively. 

"He is the only man I can rely upon at the Villa Mimosa, " Rocheexplained. "I am afraid to-night it's going to be rather a difficultjob. "

"I always feared it would be, " Hunterleys agreed. 

"Frenhofer tells me, " Roche continued, "that for some reason or othertheir suspicions have been aroused up there. They are all on edge. Youknow, the house is cram-full of men-servants and there are to be a dozenof them on duty in the grounds. Two or three of these fellows arenothing more or less than private detectives, and they all of them knowwhat they're about or Grex wouldn't have them. "

Hunterleys looked grave. 

"It sounds awkward, " he admitted. 

"The general idea of the plot, " Roche went on, walking restlessly up anddown the room, "you and I have already solved, and by this time theyknow it in London. But there are two things which I feel they maydiscuss to-night, which are of vital importance. The first is the date, the second is the terms of the offer to Douaille. Then, of course, moreimportant, perhaps, than either of these, is the matter of Douaille'sgeneral attitude towards the scheme. "

"So far, " Hunterleys remarked reflectively, "we haven't the slightestindication of what that may be. Douaille came pledged to nothing. Hemay, after all, stand firm. "

"For the honour of his country, let us hope so, " Roche said solemnly. "Yet I am sure of one thing. They are going to make him a wonderfuloffer. He may find himself confronted with a problem which some of thegreatest statesmen in the world have had to face in their time--shall hestudy the material benefit of his country, or shall he stand firm forher honour?"

"It's a great ethical question, " Hunterleys declared, "too great for usto discuss now, Sidney. Tell me, do you really mean to go on with thisattempt of yours to-night?"

"I must, " Roche replied. "Frenhofer wants me to give up the roof idea, but there is nothing else worth trying. He brought a fresh plan of theroom with him. There it lies on the table. As you see, the apartmentwhere the meeting will take place is almost isolated from the rest ofthe house. There is only one approach to it, by a corridor leading fromthe hall. The east and west sides will be patrolled. On the south thereis a little terrace, but the approach to it is absolutely impossible. There is a sheer drop of fifty feet on to the beach. "

"You think they have no suspicion about the roof?" Hunterleys askeddoubtfully. 

"Not yet. The pane of glass is cut out and my entrance to the house isarranged for. Frenhofer will tamper with the electric lights in thekitchen premises and I shall arrive in response to his telephonicmessage, in the clothes of a working-man and with a bag of tools. Thenhe smuggles me on to the spiral stairway which leads out on to the roofwhere the flag-staff is. I can crawl the rest of the way to my place. The trouble is that notwithstanding the ledge around, if it is aperfectly clear night, just a fraction of my body, however flat I lie, might be seen from the ground. "

Hunterleys studied the plan for a moment and shook his head. 

"It's a terrible risk, this, Roche, " he said seriously. 

"I know it, " the other admitted, "but what am I to do? They keep sendingme cipher messages from home to spare no effort to send further news, asyou know very well, and two other fellows will be here the day afterto-morrow, to relieve me. I must do what I can. There's one thing, Felicia's off my mind now. Briston's a good fellow and he'll look afterher. "

"In the event of your capture--" Hunterleys began. 

"The tools I shall take with me, " Roche interrupted, "are commonhousebreaker's tools. Every shred of clothing I shall be wearing will bein keeping, the ordinary garments of an _ouvrier_ of the district. If Iam trapped, it will be as a burglar and not as a spy. Of course, ifDouaille opens the proceedings by declaring himself against the scheme, I shall make myself scarce as quickly as I can. "

"You were quite right when you said just now, " Hunterleys observed, "that Douaille will find himself in a difficult position. There is nodoubt but that he is an honest man. On the other hand, it is a politicalaxiom that the first duty of any statesman is to his own people. If theycan make Douaille believe that he is going to restore her lost provincesto France without the shedding of a drop of French blood, simply atEngland's expense, he will be confronted with a problem over which anyman might hesitate. He has had all day to think it over. What he maydecide is simply on the knees of the gods. "

Roche sealed up the letter he had been writing, and handed it toHunterleys. 

"Well, " he said, "I have left everything in order. If there's anymysterious disappearance from here, it will be the mysteriousdisappearance of a newspaper correspondent, and nothing else. "

"Good luck, then, old chap!" Hunterleys wished him. "If you pull throughthis time, I think our job will be done. I'll tell them at headquartersthat you deserve a year's holiday. "

Roche smiled a little queerly. 

"Don't forget, " he pointed out, "that it was you who scented out thewhole plot. I've simply done the Scotland Yard work. The worst of ourjob is, " he added, as he opened the door, "that we don't want holidays. We are like drugged beings. The thing gets hold of us. I suppose if theygave me a holiday I should spend it in St. Petersburg. That's where weought to send our best men just now. So long, Sir Henry. "

They shook hands once more. Roche's face was set in grim lines. Theywere both silent for a moment. It was the farewell of men whose eyes arefixed upon the great things. 

"Good luck to you!" Hunterleys repeated fervently, as he turned andwalked down the tiled way. 

CHAPTER XXIV

HUNTERLEYS SCENTS MURDER

The concierge of the Hotel de Paris was a man of great stature andimposing appearance. Nevertheless, when Hunterleys crossed the road andclimbed the steps to the hotel, he seemed for a moment like a manreduced to pulp. He absolutely forgot his usual dignified but courteousgreeting. With mouth a little open and knees which seemed to havecollapsed, he stared at this unexpected apparition as he came into sightand stared at him as he entered the hotel. Hunterleys glanced behindwith a slight frown. The incident, inexplicable though it was, wouldhave passed at once from his memory, but that directly he entered thehotel he was conscious of the very similar behaviour and attitudetowards him of the chief reception clerk. He paused on his way, a littlebewildered, and called the man to him. The clerk, however, was alreadyrushing towards the office with his coat-tails flying behind him. Hunterleys crossed the floor and rang the bell for the lift. Directly hestepped in, the lift man vacated his place, and with his eyes nearlystarting out of his head, seemed about to make a rush for his life. 

"Come back here, " Hunterleys ordered sternly. "Take me up to my room atonce. "

The man returned unsteadily and with marked reluctance. He closed thegate, touched the handle and the lift commenced to ascend. 

"What's the matter with you all here?" Hunterleys demanded, irritably. "Is there anything wrong with my appearance? Has anything happened?"

The man made a gesture but said absolutely nothing. The lift hadstopped. He pushed open the door. 

"Monsieur's floor, " he faltered. 

Hunterleys stepped out and made his way towards his room. Arrived there, he was brought to a sudden standstill. A gendarme was stationed outside. 

"What the mischief are you doing here?" Hunterleys demanded. 

The man saluted. 

"By orders of the Director of Police, monsieur. "

"But that is my room, " Hunterleys protested. "I wish to enter. "

"No one is permitted to enter, monsieur, " the man replied. 

Hunterleys stared blankly at the gendarme. 

"Can't you tell me at least what has happened?" he persisted. "I am SirHenry Hunterleys. That is my apartment. Why do I find it locked againstme?"

"By order of the Director of the Police, monsieur, " was the parrot-likereply. 

Hunterleys turned away impatiently. At that moment the reception clerkwho downstairs had fled at his approach, returned, bringing with him themanager of the hotel. Hunterleys welcomed the latter with an air ofrelief. 

"Monsieur Picard, " he exclaimed, "what on earth is the meaning of this?Why do I find my room closed and this gendarme outside?"

Monsieur Picard was a tall man, black-bearded, immaculate in appearanceand deportment, with manners and voice of velvet. Yet he, too, had losthis wonderful imperturbability. He waved away the floor waiter, who haddrawn near. His manner was almost agitated. 

"Monsieur Sir Henry, " he explained, "an affair the most regrettable hashappened in your room. I have allotted to you another apartment upon thesame floor. Your things have been removed there. If you will come withme I will show it to you. It is an apartment better by far than the oneyou have been occupying, and the price is the same. "

"But what on earth has happened in my room?" Hunterleys demanded. 

"Monsieur, " the hotel manager replied, "some poor demented creature whohas doubtless lost his all, in your absence found his way there andcommitted suicide. "

"Found his way into my room?" Hunterleys repeated. "But I locked thedoor before I went out. I have the key in my pocket. "

"He entered possibly through the bathroom, " the manager went on, soothingly. "I am deeply grieved that monsieur should be inconveniencedin any way. This is the apartment I have reserved for monsieur, " headded, throwing open the door of a room at the end of the corridor. "Itis more spacious and in every way more desirable. Monsieur's clothes arealready being put away. "

Hunterleys glanced around the apartment. It was certainly of a farbetter type than the one he had been occupying, and two of the floorvalets were already busy with his clothes. 

"Monsieur will be well satisfied here, I am sure, " the hotel managercontinued. "May I be permitted to offer my felicitations and to assureyou of my immense relief. There was a rumour--the affair occurring inmonsieur's apartment--that the unfortunate man was yourself, Sir Henry. "

Hunterleys was thoughtful for a moment. He began to understand thesensation which his appearance had caused. Other ideas, too, werecrowding into his brain. 

"Look here, Monsieur Picard, " he said, "of course, I have no objectionto the change of rooms--that's all right--but I should like to know alittle more about the man who you say committed suicide in my apartment. I should like to see him. "

Monsieur Picard shook his head. 

"It would be a very difficult matter, that, monsieur, " he declared. "Thelaws of Monaco are stringent in such affairs. "

"That is all very well, " Hunterleys protested, "but I cannot understandwhat he was doing in my apartment. Can't I go in just for a moment?"

"Impossible, monsieur! Without the permission of the Commissioner ofPolice no one can enter that room. "

"Then I should like, " Hunterleys persisted, "to see the Commissioner ofPolice. "

Monsieur Picard bowed. 

"Monsieur the Commissioner is on the premises, without a doubt. I willinstruct him of Monsieur Sir Henry's desire. "

"I shall be glad if you will do so at once, " Hunterleys said firmly. "Iwill wait for him here. "

The manager made his escape and his relief was obvious. Hunterleys saton the edge of the bed. 

"Do you know anything about this affair?" he asked the nearer of the twovalets. 

The man shook his head. 

"Nothing at all, monsieur, " he answered, without pausing from hislabours. 

"How did the fellow get into my room?"

"One knows nothing, " the other man muttered. 

Hunterleys watched them for a few minutes at their labours. 

"A nice, intelligent couple of fellows you are, " he remarked pleasantly. "Come, here's a louis each. Now can't you tell me something about theaffair?"

They came forward. Both looked longingly at the coins. 

"Monsieur, " the one he had first addressed regretted, "there is indeednothing to be known. At this hotel the wages are good. It is the finestsituation a man may gain in Monte Carlo or elsewhere, but if anythinglike this happens, there is to be silence. One dares not break therule. "

Hunterleys shrugged his shoulders. 

"All right, " he said. "I shall find out what I want to know, in time. "

The men returned unwillingly to their tasks. In a moment or two therewas a knock at the door. The Commissioner of Police entered, accompaniedby the hotel manager, who at once introduced him. 

"The Commissioner of Police is here, Sir Henry, " he announced. "He willspeak with you immediately. "

The official saluted. 

"Monsieur desires some information?"

"I do, " Hunterleys admitted. "I am told that a man has committed suicidein my room, and I have heard no plausible explanation as to how he gotthere. I want to see him. It is possible that I may recognise him. "

"The fellow is already identified, " the Director of Police declared. "Ican satisfy monsieur's curiosity. He was connected with a firm ofEnglish tailors here, who sought business from the gentlemen in thehotel. He had accordingly sometimes the entrée to their apartments. Thefellow is reported to have saved a little money and to have visited thetables. He lost everything. He came this morning about his business asusual, but, overcome by despair, stabbed himself, most regrettably inthe apartments of monsieur. "

"Since you know all about him, perhaps you can tell me his name?"Hunterleys asked. 

"James Allen. Monsieur may recall him to his memory. He was tall and ofpale complexion, respectable-looking, but a man of discontentedappearance. The intention had probably been in his mind for some time. "

"Is there any objection to my seeing the body?" Hunterleys enquired. 

The official shrugged his shoulders. 

"But, monsieur, all is finished with the poor fellow. The doctor hasgiven his certificate. He is to be removed at once. He will be buried atnightfall. "

"A very admirable arrangement, without a doubt, " Hunterleys observed, "and yet, I should like, as I remarked before, to see the body. You knowwho I am--Sir Henry Hunterleys. I had a message from your department aday or two ago which I thought a little unfair. "

The Commissioner sighed. He ignored altogether the conclusion ofHunterleys' sentence. 

"It is against the rules, monsieur, " he regretted. 

"Then to whom shall I apply?" Hunterleys asked, "because I may as welltell you at once that I am going to insist upon my request beinggranted. I will tell you frankly my reason. It is not a matter ofcuriosity at all. I should like to feel assured of the fact that thisman Allen really committed suicide. "

"But he is dead, monsieur, " the Commissioner protested. 

"Doubtless, " Hunterleys agreed, "but there is also the chance that hewas murdered, isn't there?"

"Murdered!"

Monsieur Picard held up his hands in horror. The Commissioner of Policesmiled in derision. 

"But, monsieur, " the latter pointed out, "who would take the trouble tomurder a poverty-stricken tailor's assistant!"

"And in my hotel, too!" Monsieur Picard intervened. 

"The thing is impossible, " the Commissioner declared. 

"Beyond which it is ridiculous!" Monsieur Picard added. 

Hunterleys sat quite silent for a moment. 

"Monsieur the Commissioner, " he said presently, "and Monsieur Picard, Irecognise your point of view. Believe me that I appreciate it and that Iam willing, to a certain extent, to acquiesce in it. At the same time, there are considerations in this matter which I cannot ignore. I do notwish to create any disturbance or to make any statements likely tomilitate against the popularity of your wonderful hotel, MonsieurPicard. Nevertheless, for personal reasons only, notwithstanding theverdict of your doctor, I should like for one moment to examine thebody. "

The Commissioner of Police was thoughtful for a moment. 

"It shall be as monsieur desires, " he consented gravely, "bearing inmind what monsieur has said, " he added with emphasis. 

The three men left the room and passed down the corridor. The gendarmein front of the closed door stood on one side. The Commissioner produceda key. They all three entered the room and Monsieur Picard closed thedoor behind them. Underneath a sheet upon the bed was stretched thefigure of a man. Hunterleys stepped up to it, turned down the sheet andexamined the prostrate figure. Then he replaced the covering reverently. 

"Yes, " he said, "that is the man who has called upon me for orders fromthe English tailors. His name, I believe, was, as you say, Allen. Butcan you tell me, Monsieur the Commissioner, how it was possible for aman to stab himself from the shoulder downwards through the heart?"

The Official extended his hands. 

"Monsieur, " he declared, "it is not for us. The doctor has given hiscertificate. "

Hunterleys smiled a little grimly. 

"I have always understood, " he observed, "that things were managed likethis. You may have confidence in me, Monsieur the Commissioner, and you, Monsieur Picard. I shall not tell the world what I suspect. But for yourprivate information I will tell you that this man was probably murderedby an assassin who sought my life. You observe that there is a certainresemblance. "

The hotel proprietor turned pale. 

"Murdered!" he exclaimed. "Impossible! A murder here--unheard of!"

The Commissioner dismissed the whole thing airily with a wave of hishand. 

"The doctor has signed the certificate, " he repeated. 

"And I, " Hunterleys added, as he led the way out of the room, "am morethan satisfied--I am grateful. So there is nothing more to be said. "

CHAPTER XXV

DRACONMEYER IS DESPERATE

Draconmeyer stood before the window of his room, looking out over theMediterranean. There was no finer view to be obtained from any suite inthe hotel, and Monte Carlo had revelled all that day in the golden, transfiguring sunshine. Yet he looked as a blind man. His eyes sawnothing of the blue sea or the brown-sailed fishing boats, nor did heonce glance towards the picturesque harbour. He saw only his own future, the shattered pieces of his carefully-thought-out scheme. The first furyhad passed. His brain was working now. In her room below, LadyHunterleys was lying on the couch, half hysterical. Three times she hadsent for her husband. If he should return at that moment, Draconmeyerknew that the game was up. There would be no bandying words betweenthem, no involved explanations, no possibility of any furthermisunderstanding. All his little tissue of lies and misrepresentationswould crumble hopelessly to pieces. The one feeling in her heart wouldbe thankfulness. She would open her arms. He saw the end with fatal, unerring truthfulness. 

His servant returned. Draconmeyer waited eagerly for his message. 

"Lady Hunterleys is lying down, sir, " the man announced. "She is verymuch upset and begs you to excuse her. "

Draconmeyer waved the man away and walked up and down the apartment, hishands behind his back, his lips hard-set. He was face to face with acrisis which baffled him completely, and yet which he felt to be whollyunworthy of his powers. His brain had never been keener, his sense ofpower more inspiring. Yet he had never felt more impotent. It waswoman's hysteria against which he had to fight. The ordinary weaponswere useless. He realised quite well her condition and the dangersresulting from it. The heart of the woman was once more beating to itsown natural tune. If Hunterleys should present himself within the nextfew minutes, not all his ingenuity nor the power of his millions couldsave the situation. 

Plans shaped themselves almost automatically in his mind. He passed fromhis own apartments, through a connecting door into a large andbeautifully-furnished salon. A woman with grey hair and white face waslying on a couch by the window. She turned her head as he entered andlooked at him questioningly. Her face was fragile and her features weresharpened by suffering. She looked at her husband almost as a cowed butstill affectionate animal might look towards a stern master. 

"Do you feel well enough to walk as far as Lady Hunterleys' apartmentwith the aid of my arm?" he asked. 

"Of course, " she replied. "Does Violet want me?"

"She is still feeling the shock, " Draconmeyer said. "I think that she isinclined to be hysterical. It would do her good to have you talk withher. "

The nurse, who had been sitting by her side, assisted her patient torise. She leaned on her husband's arm. In her other hand she carried ablack ebony walking-stick. They traversed the corridor, knocked at thedoor of Lady Hunterleys' apartment, and in response to a somewhathesitating invitation, entered. Violet was lying upon the sofa. Shelooked up eagerly at their coming. 

"Linda!" she exclaimed. "How dear of you! I thought that it might havebeen Henry, " she added, as though to explain the disappointment in hertone. 

Draconmeyer turned away to hide his expression. 

"Talk to her as lightly as possible, " he whispered to his wife, "butdon't leave her alone. I will come back for you in ten minutes. "

He left the two women together and descended into the hall. He foundseveral of the reception clerks whispering together. The concierge hadonly just recovered himself, but the place was beginning to wear itsnormal aspect. He whispered an enquiry at the desk. Sir Henry Hunterleyshad just come in and had gone upstairs, he was told. His new room wasnumber 148. 

"There was a note from his wife, " Draconmeyer said, trying hard tocontrol his voice. "Has he had it?"

"It is here still, sir, " the clerk replied. "I tried to catch Sir Henryas he passed through, but he was too quick for me. To tell you thetruth, " he went on, "there has been a rumour through the hotel that itwas Sir Henry himself who had been found dead in his room, and seeinghim come in was rather a shock for all of us. "

"Naturally, " Draconmeyer agreed. "If you will give me the note I willtake it up to him. "

The clerk handed it over without hesitation. Draconmeyer returnedimmediately to his own apartments and torn open the envelope. There wereonly a few words scrawled across the half-sheet of notepaper:

 Henry, come to me, dear, at once. I have had such a shock. I want to see you. 

 Vi. 

He tore the note viciously into small pieces. Then he went back to LadyHunterleys' apartments. She was sitting up now in an easy-chair. Oncemore, at the sound of the knock, she looked towards the door eagerly. Her face fell when Draconmeyer entered. 

"Have you heard anything about Henry?" she asked anxiously. 

"He came back a few minutes ago, " Draconmeyer replied, "and has gone outagain. "

"Gone out again?"

Draconmeyer nodded. 

"I think that he has gone round to the Club. He is a man of splendidnerve, your husband. He seemed to treat the whole affair as an excellentjoke. "

"A joke!" she repeated blankly. 

"This sort of thing happens so often in Monte Carlo, " he observed, in amatter-of-fact tone. "The hotel people seem all to look upon it as inthe day's work. "

"I wonder if Henry had my note?" she faltered. 

"He was reading one in the hall when I saw him, " Draconmeyer told her. "That would be yours, I should think. He left a message at the deskwhich was doubtless meant for you. He has gone on to the Sporting Clubfor an hour and will probably be back in time to change for dinner. "

Violet sat quite still for several moments. Something seemed to dieslowly out of her face. Presently she rose to her feet. 

"I suppose, " she said, "that I am very foolish to allow myself to beupset like this. "

"It is quite natural, " Draconmeyer assured her soothingly. "What youshould try to do is to forget the whole circumstance. You sit herebrooding about it until it becomes a tragedy. Let us go down to the Clubtogether. We shall probably see your husband there. "

She hesitated. She seemed still perplexed. 

"I wonder, " she murmured, "could I send another message to him? Perhapshe didn't quite understand. "

"Much better come along to the Club, " Draconmeyer advised, good-humouredly. "You can be there yourself before a message could reachhim. "

"Very well, " she assented. "I will be ready in ten minutes. .. . "

Draconmeyer took his wife back to her room. 

"Did I do as you wished, dear?" she asked him anxiously. 

"Absolutely, " he replied. 

He helped her back to her couch and stooped and kissed her. She leanedback wearily. It was obvious that she had found the exertion of movingeven so far exhausting. Then he returned to his own apartments. Rapidlyhe unlocked his dispatch box and took out one or two notes from Violet. They were all of no importance--answers to invitations, or appointments. He spread them out, took a sheet of paper and a broad pen. Withouthesitation he wrote:

 Congratulations on your escape, but why do you run such risks! I wish you would go back to England. 

 VIOLET. 

He held the sheet of notepaper a little away from him and looked at itcritically. The imitation was excellent. He thrust the few lines into anenvelope, addressed them to Hunterleys and descended to the hall. Heleft the note at the office. 

"Send this up to Sir Henry, will you?" he instructed. "Let him have itas quickly as possible. "

Once more he crossed the hall and waited close to the lift by which shewould descend. All the time he kept on glancing nervously around. Thingswere going his way, but the great danger remained--if they should meetfirst by chance in the corridor, or in the lift! Hunterleys might thinkit his duty to go at once to his wife's apartment in case she had heardthe rumour of his death. The minutes dragged by. He had climbed thegreat ladder slowly. More than once he had felt it sway beneath hisfeet. Yet to him those moments seemed almost the longest of his life. Then at last she came. She was looking very pale, but to his relief hesaw that she was dressed for the Club. She was wearing a grey dress andblack hat. He remembered with a pang of fury that grey was her husband'sfavourite colour. 

"I suppose there is no doubt that Henry is at the Club?" she asked, looking eagerly around the hall. 

"Not the slightest, " he assured her. "We can have some tea there and weare certain to come across him somewhere. "

She made no further difficulty. As they turned into the long passage hegave a sigh of relief. Every step they took meant safety. He talked toher as lightly as possible, ignoring the fact that she scarcely repliedto him. They mounted the stairs and entered the Club. She lookedanxiously up and down the crowded rooms. 

"I shall stroll about and look for Henry, " she announced. 

"Very well, " he agreed. "I will go over to your place and see how thenumbers are going. "

He stood by the roulette table, but he watched her covertly. She passedthrough the baccarat room, came out again and walked the whole length ofthe larger apartment. She even looked into the restaurant beyond. Thenshe came slowly back to where Draconmeyer was standing. She seemedtired. She scarcely even glanced at the table. 

"Lady Hunterleys, " he exclaimed impressively, "this is positivelywicked! Your twenty-nine has turned up twice within the last fewminutes. Do sit down and try your luck and I will go and see if I canfind your husband. "

He pushed a handful of plaques and a bundle of notes into her hand. Atthat moment the croupier's voice was heard. 

_"Quatorze rouge, pair et manque. "_

"Another of my numbers!" she murmured, with a faint show of interest. "Idon't think I want to play, though. "

"Try just a few coups, " he begged. "You see, there is a chair here. Youmay not have a chance again for hours. "

He was using all his will power. Somehow or other, she found herselfseated in front of the table. The sight of the pile of plaques and theroll of notes was inspiring. She leaned across and with tremblingfingers backed number fourteen _en plein_, with all the _carrés_ and_chevaux_. She was playing the game at which she had lost sopersistently. He walked slowly away. Every now and then from a distancehe watched her. She was winning and losing alternately, but she hadsettled down now in earnest. He breathed a great sigh of relief and tooka seat upon a divan, whence he could see if she moved. Richard Lane, whohad been standing at the other side of the table, crossed the room andcame over to him. 

"Say, do you know where Sir Henry is?" he enquired. 

Draconmeyer shook his head. 

"I have scarcely seen him all day. "

"I think I'll go round to the hotel and look him up, " Lane decidedcarelessly. "I'm fed up with this--"

He stopped short. He was no longer an exceedingly bored anddiscontented-looking young man. Draconmeyer glanced at him curiously. Hefelt a thrill of sympathy. This stolid young man, then, was capable offeeling something of the same emotion as was tearing at his ownheart-strings. Lane was gazing with transfigured face towards the opendoorway. 

CHAPTER XXVI

EXTRAORDINARY LOVE-MAKING

Fedora sauntered slowly around the rooms, leaning over and staking agold plaque here and there. She was dressed as usual in white, with anermine turban hat and stole and an enormous muff. Her hair seemed moregolden than ever beneath its snow-white setting, and her complexion moredazzling. She seemed utterly unconscious of the admiration which herappearance evoked, and she passed Lane without apparently observing him. A moment afterwards, however, he moved to her side and addressed her. 

"Quite a lucky coup of yours, that last, Miss Grex. Are you used towinning _en plein_ like that?"

She turned her head and looked at him. Her eyebrows were ever soslightly uplifted. Her expression was chilling. He remained, however, absolutely unconscious of any impending trouble. 

"I was sorry not to find you at home this morning, " he continued. "Ibrought my little racing car round for you to see. I thought you mighthave liked to try her. "

"How absurd you are!" she murmured. "You must know perfectly well thatit would have been quite impossible for me to come out with you alone. "

"But why?"

She sighed. 

"You are quite hopeless, or you pretend to be!"

"If I am, " he replied, "it is because you won't explain things to meproperly. The tables are much too crowded to play comfortably. Won't youcome and sit down for a few minutes?"

She hesitated. Lane watched her anxiously. He felt, somehow, that agreat deal depended upon her reply. Presently, with the slightestpossible shrug of the shoulders, she turned around and suffered him towalk by her side to the little antechamber which divided the gamblingrooms from the restaurant. 

"Very well, " she decided, "I suppose, after all, one must remember thatyou did save us from a great deal of inconvenience the other night. Iwill talk to you for a few minutes. "

He found her an easy-chair and he sat by her side. 

"This is bully, " he declared. 

"Is what?" she asked, once more raising her eyebrows. 

"American slang, " he explained penitently. "I am sorry. I meant that itwas very pleasant to be here alone with you for a few minutes. "

"You may not find it so, after all, " she said severely. "I feel that Ihave a duty to perform. "

"Well, don't let's bother about that yet, if it means a lecture, " hebegged. "You shall tell me how much better the young women of yourcountry behave than the young women of mine. "

"Thank you, " she replied, "I am never interested in the doings of ademocracy. Your country makes no appeal to me at all. "

"Come, " he protested, "that's a little too bad. Why, Russia may be ademocracy some day, you know. You very nearly had a republic foistedupon you after the Japanese war. "

"You are quite mistaken, " she assured him. "Russia would never toleratea republic. "

"Russia will some day have to do like many other countries, " he answeredfirmly, --"obey the will of the people. "

"Russia has nothing in common with other countries, " she asserted. "There was never a nation yet in which the aristocracy was so powerful. "

"It's only a matter of time, " he declared, nonchalantly. 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

"You represent ideas of which I do not approve, " she told him. 

"I don't care a fig about any ideas, " he replied. "I don't care muchabout anything in the world except you. "

She turned her head slowly and looked at him. Its angle wassupercilious, her tone frigid. 

"That sort of a speech may pass for polite conversation in your country, Mr. Lane. We do not understand it in mine. "

"Don't your men ever tell your women that they love them?" he askedbluntly. 

"If they are of the same order, " she said, "if the thing is at allpossible, it may sometimes be done. Marriage, however, is more a matterof alliance with us. Our servants, I believe, are quite promiscuous intheir love-making. "

He was silent for a moment. She may, perhaps, have felt somecompunction. She spoke to him a little more kindly. 

"We cannot help the ideas of the country in which we are brought up, youknow, Mr. Lane. "

"Of course not, " he agreed. "I understand that perfectly. I was justthinking, though, what a lot I shall have to teach you. "

She was momentarily aghast. She recovered herself quickly, however. 

"Are all the men of your nation so self-confident?"

"We have to be, " he told her. "It's the only way we can get what wewant. "

"And do you always succeed in getting what you want?"

"Always!"

"Then unless you wish to be an exception, " she advised, "let me beg younot to try for anything beyond your reach. "

"There is nothing, " he declared firmly, "beyond my reach. You are tryingto discourage me. It isn't any use. I am not a prince or a duke oranything like that, although my ancestors were honest enough, I believe. I haven't any trappings of that sort to offer you. If you are assensible as I think you are, you won't mind that when you come to thinkit over. The only thing I am ashamed of is my money, because I didn'tearn it for myself. You can live in palaces still, if you want to, andif you want to be a queen I'll ferret out a kingdom somewhere and buyit, but I am afraid you'll have to be Mrs. Lane behind it all, youknow. "

"You really are the most intolerable person, " she exclaimed, biting herlip. "How can I get these absurd ideas out of your mind?"

"By telling me honestly, looking in my eyes all the time, that you couldnever care for me a little bit, however devoted I was, " he answeredpromptly. "You won't be able to do it. I've only one belief in lifeabout these things, and that is that when any one cares for a girl as Icare for you, it's absolutely impossible for her to be whollyindifferent. It isn't much to start with, I know, but the rest willcome. Be honest with me. Is there any one of the men of your countrywhom you have met, whom you want to marry?"

She frowned slightly. She found herself, at that moment, comparing himwith certain young men of her acquaintance. She was astonished torealise that the comparison was all in his favour. It was for her anextraordinary moment. She had indeed been brought up in palaces and themen whom she had known had been reckoned the salt of the earth. Yet, atthat crisis, she was most profoundly conscious that not all the glamourof those high-sounding names, the picturesque interest of those gorgeousuniforms, nor the men themselves, magnificent in their way, were able tomake the slightest appeal to her. She remembered some of her own bitterwords when an alliance with one of them had been suggested to her. Itwas she, then, who had been the first to ignore the divine heritage ofbirth, who had spoken of their drinking habits, pointed to their life ofidle luxury and worse than luxury. The man who was at the present momenther suitor forced himself upon her recollection. She knew quite wellthat he represented a type. They were of the nobility, and they seemedto her in that one poignant but unwelcome moment, hatefully degenerate, men no self-respecting girl could ever think of. Family influence, sternparental words, the call of her order, had half crushed these thoughts. They came back now, however, with persistent force. 

"You see, " Richard Lane went on, "it mayn't be much that I have to offeryou, but in your heart I know you feel what it means to be offered thelove of a man who doesn't want you just because you are of his order, orbecause you are the daughter of a Personage, or for any other reasonthan because he cares for you as he has cared for no other woman onearth, and because, without knowing it, he has waited for you. "

She moved restlessly in her chair. Their conversation was not going inthe least along the lines which she had intended. She suddenlyremembered her own disquiet of the day before, her curious longing tosteal off on some excuse to-day. A week ago she would have been contentto have dawdled away the afternoon in the grounds of the villa. Something different had come. From the moment she had entered the rooms, although she had never acknowledged it, she had been conscious, pleasurably conscious of his presence. She was suddenly uneasy. 

"I am afraid, " she murmured, "that you are quite hopeless. "

"If you mean that I am without hope, you are wrong, " he answeredsturdily. "From the moment I met you I have had but one thought, anduntil the last day of my life I shall have but one thought, and thatthought is of you. There may be no end of difficulties, but I come of anobstinate race. I have patience as well as other things. "

She was avoiding looking at him now. She looked instead at her claspedhands. 

"I wish I could make you understand, " she said, in a low tone, "howimpossible all this is. In England and America I know that it isdifferent. There, marriages of a certain sort are freely made betweendifferent classes. But in Russia these things are not thought of. Supposing that all you said were true. Supposing, even, that I had theslightest disposition to listen to you. Do you realise that there isn'tone of my family who wouldn't cry out in horror at the thought of mymarrying--forgive me--marrying a commoner of your rank in life?"

"They can cry themselves hoarse, as they'll have to some day, " hereplied cheerfully. "As for you, Miss Fedora--you don't mind my callingyou Miss Fedora, do you?--you'll be glad some day that you were born atthe beginning of a new era. You may be a pioneer in the new ways, butyou may take my word for it that you won't be the last. Please havecourage. Please try and be yourself, won't you?"

"But how do you know what I am?" she protested. "Or even what I am like?We have spoken only a few words. Nothing has passed between us whichcould possibly have inspired you with such feelings as you speak of, "she added, colouring slightly. "It is a fancy of yours, quite too absurda fancy. Now that I find myself discussing it with you as though, indeed, we were talking of it seriously, I am inclined to laugh. You arejust a very foolish young man, Mr. Lane. "

He shook his head. 

"Look here, " he said, "I am very good at meaning things, but it'sawfully hard for me to put my thoughts into words. I can't explain howit's all come about. I don't know why, amongst all the girls I've seenin my own country, or England, or Paris, or anywhere, there hasn't beenone who could bring me the things which you bring, who could fill mymind with the thoughts you fill it with, who could make my days standstill and start again, who could upset the whole machinery of my life sothat when you come I want to dance with happiness, and when you go theday is over with me. There is no chance of my being able to explain thisto you, because other fellows, much cleverer than I, have been in thesame box, and they've had to come to the conclusion, too, that thereisn't any explanation. I have accepted it. I want you to. I love you, Fedora, and I will be faithful to you all my life. You shall live whereyou choose and how you choose, but you must be my wife. There isn't anyway out of it for either of us. "

She sat quite still for several moments. They were a little behind thecurtain and it chanced that there was no one in their immediatevicinity. She felt her fingers suddenly gripped. They were releasedagain almost at once, but a queer sensation of something overmasteringseemed to creep through her whole being at the touch of his hand. Sherose to her feet. 

"I am going away, " she declared. 

"I haven't offended you?" he begged. "Please sit down. We haven't halftalked over things yet. "

"We have talked too much, " she answered. "I don't know really what hascome over me that I have let you--that I listen to you--"

"It is because you feel the truth of what I say, " he insisted. "Don'tget up, Fedora. Don't go away, dear. Let us have at least these fewminutes together. I'll do exactly as you tell me. I'll come to yourfather or I'll carry you off. I have a sister here. She'll be yourfriend--"

"Don't!" the girl stopped him. "Please don't!"

She sat down in her chair again. Her fingers were twisted together, herslim form was tense with stifled emotions. 

"Have I been a brute?" he asked softly. "You must forgive me, Fedora. Iam not much used to girls and I am sort of carried away myself, only Iwant you to believe that there's the real thing in my heart. I'll makeyou just as happy as a woman can be. Don't shake your head, dear. I wantyou to trust me and believe in me. "

"I think you're a most extraordinary person, " she said at last. "Do youknow, I'm beginning to be really afraid of you. "

"You're not, " he insisted. "You're afraid of yourself. You're afraidbecause you see the downfall of the old ideas. You're afraid because youknow that you're going to be a renegade. You can see nothing but troubleahead just now. I'll take you right away from that. "

There was the rustle of skirts, a soft little laugh. Richard rose to hisfeet promptly. He had never been so pleased in all his life to welcomehis sister. 

"Flossie, " he exclaimed, "I'm ever so glad you came along! I want topresent Miss Grex to you. This is my sister, Miss Fedora--LadyWeybourne. I was just going to ask Miss Grex to have some tea with me, "he went on, "but I am not sure that she would have considered it proper. Do come along and be chaperone. "

Lady Weybourne laughed. 

"I shall be delighted, " she declared. "I have seen you here once ortwice before, haven't I, Miss Grex, and some one told me that you wereRussian. I suppose you are not in the least used to the free and easyways of us Westerners, but you'll come and have some tea with us, won'tyou?"

The girl hesitated. Fate was too strong for her. 

"I shall be very pleased, " she agreed. 

They found a window table and Lane ordered tea. Fedora was inclined tobe silent at first, but Lady Weybourne was quite content to chatter. Bydegrees Fedora, too, came back to earth and they had a very gay littletea-party. At the end of it they all strolled back into the roomstogether. Fedora glanced at the watch upon her wrist and held out herhand to Lady Weybourne. 

"I am sorry, " she said, "but I must hurry away now. It is very kind ofyou to ask me to come and see you, Lady Weybourne. I shall be charmed. "

Richard ignored her fingers. 

"I am going to see you down to your car, if I may, " he begged. 

They left the room together. She looked at him as they descended thestairs, almost tremulously. 

"This doesn't mean, you know, " she said, "that I--that I agree to allyou have been saying. "

"It needn't mean anything at all, dear, " he replied. "This is only thebeginning. I don't expect you to realise all that I have realised quiteso quickly, but I do want you to keep it in your mind that this thinghas come and that it can't be got rid of. I won't do anything foolish. If it is necessary I will wait, but I am your lover now, as I alwaysmust be. "

He handed her into the car, the footman, in his long white livery, standing somberly on one side. As they drove off she gave him herfingers, and he walked back up the steps with the smile upon his lipsthat comes to a man only once or twice in his lifetime. 

CHAPTER XXVII

PLAYING FOR HIGH STAKES

Violet glanced at her watch with an exclamation of dismayed annoyance. She leaned appealingly towards the croupier. 

"But one coup more, monsieur, " she pleaded. "Indeed your clock is fast. "

The croupier shook his head. He was a man of gallantry so far as hisprofession permitted, and he was a great admirer of the beautifulEnglishwoman, but the rules of the Club were strict. 

"Madame, " he pointed out, "it is already five minutes past eight. It isabsolutely prohibited that we start another coup after eight o'clock. Ifmadame will return at ten o'clock, the good fortune will without doubtbe hers. "

She looked up at Draconmeyer, who was standing at her elbow. 

"Did you ever know anything more hatefully provoking!" she complained. "For two hours the luck has been dead against me. But for a few of my_carrés_ turning up, I don't know what would have happened. And now atlast my numbers arrive. I win _en plein_ and with all the _carrés_ and_chevaux_. This time it was twenty-seven. I win two _carrés_ and I moveto twenty, and he will not go on. "

"It is the rule, " Draconmeyer reminded her. "It is bad fortune, though. I have been watching the run of the table. Things have been coming moreyour way all the time. I think that the end of your ill-luck hasarrived. Tell me, are you hungry?"

"Not in the least, " she answered pettishly. "I hate the very thought ofdinner. "

"Then why do we not go on to the Casino?" Draconmeyer suggested. "We canhave a sandwich and a glass of wine there, and you can continue yourvein. "

She rose to her feet with alacrity. Her face was beaming. 

"My friend, " she exclaimed, "you are inspired! It is a brilliant idea. Iknow that it will bring me fortune. To the Cercle Privé, by all means. Iam so glad that you are one of those men who are not dependent upondinner. But what about Linda?"

"She is not expecting me, as it happens, " Draconmeyer lied smoothly. "Itold her that I might be dining at the Villa Mimosa. I have to be therelater on. "

Violet gathered up her money, stuffed it into her gold bag and hurriedoff for her cloak. She reappeared in a few moments and smiled verygraciously at Draconmeyer. 

"It is quite a wonderful idea of yours, this, " she declared. "I amlooking forward immensely to my next few coups. I feel in a winningvein. Very soon, " she added, as they stepped out on to the pavement andshe gathered up her skirts, "very soon I am quite sure that I shall beasking you for my cheques back again. "

He laughed, as though she had been a child speaking of playthings. 

"I am not sure that I shall wish you luck, " he said. "I think that Ilike to feel that you are a little--just a very little in my debt. Doyou think that I should be a severe creditor?"

Something in his voice disturbed her vaguely, but she brushed thethought away. Of course he admired her, but then every woman must haveadmirers. It only remained for her to be clever enough to keep him atarm's length. She had no fear for herself. 

"I haven't thought about the matter at all, " she answered carelessly, "but to me all creditors would be the same, whether they were kind orunkind. I hate the feeling of owing anything. "

"It is a question, " he observed, "how far one can be said to oweanything to those who are really friends. A husband, for instance. Onecan't keep a ledger account with him. "

"A husband is a different matter altogether, " she asserted coldly. "NowI wonder whether we shall find my favourite table full. Anyhow, I amgoing to play at the one nearest the entrance on the right-hand side. There is a little croupier there whom I like. "

They passed up through the entrance and across the floor of the firstsuite of rooms to the Cercle Privé. Violet looked eagerly towards thetable of which she had spoken. To her joy there was plenty of room. 

"My favourite seat is empty!" she exclaimed. "I know that I am going tobe lucky. "

"I think that I shall play myself, for a change, " Draconmeyer announced, producing a great roll of notes. 

"Whenever you feel that you would like to go down and have something, don't mind me, will you?" she begged. "You can come back and talk to meat any time. I am not in the least hungry yet. "

"Very well, " he agreed. "Good luck to you!" They played at oppositesides of the table. For an hour she won and he lost. Once she called himover to her side. 

"I scarcely dare to tell you, " she whispered, her eyes gleaming, "but Ihave won back the first thousand pounds. I shall give it to youto-night. Here, take it now. "

He shook his head and waved it away. "I haven't the cheques with me, " heprotested. "Besides, it is bad luck to part with any of your winningswhile you are still playing. "

He watched her for a minute or two. She still won. 

"Take my advice, " he said earnestly. "Play higher. You have had a mostunusual run of bad luck. The tide has turned. Make the most of it. Ihave lost ten mille. I am going to have a try your side of the table. "

He found a vacant chair a few places lower down, and commenced playingin maximums. From the moment of his arrival he began to win, andsimultaneously Violet began to lose. Her good-fortune deserted herabsolutely, and for the first time she showed signs of losing herself-control. She gave vent to little exclamations of disgust as stakeafter stake was swept away. Her eyes were much too bright, there was aspot of colour in her cheeks. She spoke angrily to a croupier whodelayed handing her some change. Draconmeyer, although he knew perfectlywell what was happening, never seemed to glance in her direction. Heplayed with absolute recklessness for half-an-hour. When at last he rosefrom his seat and joined her, his hands were full of notes. He smiledever so faintly as he saw the covetous gleam in her eyes. 

"I'm nearly broken, " she gasped. "Leave off playing, please, for alittle time. You've changed my luck. "

He obeyed, standing behind her chair. Three more coups she played andlost. Then she thrust her hand into her bag and drew it out, empty. Shewas suddenly pale. 

"I have lost my last louis, " she declared. "I don't understand it. Itseemed as though I must win here. "

"So you will in time, " he assured her confidently. "How much will youhave--ten mille or twenty?"

She shrank back, but the sight of the notes in his hand fascinated her. She glanced up at him. His pallor was unchanged, there was no sign ofexultation in his face. Only his eyes seemed a little brighter thanusual beneath his gold-rimmed spectacles. 

"No, give me ten, " she said. 

She took them from his hand and changed them quickly into plaques. Herfirst coup was partially successful. He leaned closer over her. 

"Remember, " he pointed out, "that you only need to win once in a dozentimes and you do well. Don't be in such a hurry. "

"Of course, " she murmured. "Of course! One forgets that. It is all amatter of capital. "

He strolled away to another table. When he came back, she was sittingidle in her place, restless and excited, but still full of confidence. 

"I am a little to the good, " she told him, "but I have left off for afew minutes. The very low numbers are turning up and they are no use tome. "

"Come and have that sandwich, " he begged. "You really ought to takesomething. "

"The place shall be kept for madame, " the croupier whispered. "I shallbe here for another two hours. "

She nodded and rose. They made their way out of the Rooms and down intothe restaurant on the ground-floor. They found a little table near thewall and he ordered some pâté sandwiches and champagne. Whilst theywaited she counted up her money, making calculations on a slip of paper. Draconmeyer leaned back in his chair, watching her. His back was towardsthe door and they were at the end table. He permitted himself the luxuryof looking at her almost greedily; of dropping, for a few moments, themask which he placed always upon his features in her presence. In hisway the man was an artist, a great collector of pictures and bronzes, areal lover and seeker after perfection. Often he found himself wanderingtowards his little gallery, content to stand about and gloat over someof his most treasured possessions. Yet the man's personality clashedoften with his artistic pretensions. He scarcely ever found himselfamongst his belongings without realising the existence of a curiousfeeling, wholly removed from the pure artistic pleasure of theircontemplation. It was the sense of ownership which thrilled him. Something of the same sensation was upon him now. She was the sort ofwoman he had craved for always--slim, elegant, and what to him, with hisquick powers of observation, counted for so much, she was modish, reflecting in her presence, her dress and carriage, even her speech, thebest type of the prevailing fashion. She excited comment wherever sheappeared. People, as he knew very well even now, were envying him hiscompanion. And beneath it all--she, the woman, was there. All his lifehe had fought for the big things--political power, immense wealth, theconfidence of his great master--all these had come to him easily. And atthat moment they were like baubles!

She looked up at last and there was a slight frown upon her forehead. 

"I am still a little down, starting from where I had the ten mille, " shesighed. "I thought--"

She stopped short. There was a curious change in her face. Her eyes werefixed upon some person approaching. Draconmeyer turned quickly in hischair. Almost as he did so, Hunterleys paused before their table. Violetlooked up at him with quivering lips. For a moment it seemed as thoughshe were stepping out of her sordid surroundings. 

"Henry!" she exclaimed. "Did you come to look for me? Did you know thatwe were here?"

"How should I?" he answered calmly. "I was strolling around with DavidBriston. We are at the Opera. "

"At the Opera, " she repeated. 

"My little protégée, Felicia Roche, is singing, " he went on, "in _Aïda_. If she does as well in the next act as she has done in this, her futureis made. "

He was on the point of adding the news of Felicia's engagement to theyoung man who had momentarily deserted him. Some evil chance changed hisintention. 

"Why do you call her your little protégée?" she demanded. 

"It isn't quite correct, is it?" he answered, a little absently. "Thereare three or four of us who are doing what we can to look after her. Herfather was a prominent member of the Wigwam Club. The girl won themusical scholarship we have there. She has more than repaid us for ourtrouble, I am glad to say. "

"I have no doubt that she has, " Violet replied, lifting her eyes. 

There was a moment's silence. The significance of her words was entirelylost upon Hunterleys. 

"Isn't this rather a new departure of yours?" he asked, glancingdisdainfully towards Draconmeyer. "I thought that you so much preferredto play at the Club. "

"So I do, " she assented, "but I was just beginning to win when the Clubclosed at eight o'clock, and so we came on here. "

"Your good fortune continues, I hope?"

"It varies, " she answered hurriedly, "but it will come, I am sure. Ihave been very near a big win more than once. "

He seemed on the point of departure. She leaned a little forward. 

"You had my note, Henry?"

Her tone was almost beseeching. Draconmeyer, who was listening withstony face, shivered imperceptibly. 

"Thank you, yes, " Hunterleys replied, frowning slightly. "I am sorry, but I am not at liberty to do what you suggest just at present. I wishyou good fortune. "

He turned around and walked back to the other end of the room, whereBriston was standing at the bar. She looked after him for a moment asthough she failed to understand his words. Then her face hardened. Draconmeyer leaned towards her. 

"Shall we go?" he suggested. 

She rose with alacrity. Side by side they strolled through the roomstowards the Cercle Privé. 

"I am sorry, " Draconmeyer said regretfully, "but I am forced to leaveyou now. I will take you back to your place and after that I must go tothe hotel and change. I have a reception to attend. I wish you wouldtake the rest of my winnings and see what you can do with them. "

She shook her head vigorously. 

"No, thank you, " she declared. "I have enough. "

He shrugged his shoulders. 

"I have twenty-five mille here in my pocket, " he continued, "besidessome smaller change. I don't think it is quite fair to leave so muchmoney about in one's room or to carry it out into the country. Keep itfor me. You won't need to play with it--I can see that your luck isin--but it always gives one confidence to feel that one has a reservestock, something to fall back upon if necessary. "

He drew the notes from his pocket and held them towards her. Her eyeswere fixed upon them covetously. The thought of all that money actuallyin her possession was wildly exhilarating. 

"I will take care of them for you, if you like, " she said. "I shall notplay with them, though. I owe you quite enough already and my losingdays are over. "

He stuffed the notes carelessly into her bag. 

"Twenty-five mille, " he told her. "Remember my advice. If the luck stayswith you, stake maximums. Go for the big things. "

She looked at him curiously as she closed her gold bag with a snap. 

"After all, " she declared, with a little laugh, "I am not sure that youare not the greater gambler of the two to trust me with all this money!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

TO THE VILLA MIMOSA

With feet that seemed to touch nothing more substantial than air, hereyes brilliant, a wonderful colour in her cheeks, Violet passed throughthe heavy, dingy rooms and out through the motley crowd into the porticoof the Casino. She was right! She knew that she had been right! How wiseshe had been to borrow that money from Mr. Draconmeyer instead ofsitting down and confessing herself vanquished! The last few hours hadbeen hours of ecstatic happiness. With calm confidence she had sat inher place and watched her numbers coming up with marvellous persistence. It was the most wonderful thing in the world, this. She had had no timeto count her winnings, but at least she knew that she could pay backevery penny she owed. Her little gold satchel was stuffed with notes andplaques. She felt suddenly younger, curiously light-hearted; hungry, too, and thirsty. She was, in short, experiencing almost a delirium ofpleasure. And just then, on the steps of the Casino, she came face toface with her husband. 

"Henry!" she called out. "Henry!"

He turned abruptly around. He was looking troubled, and in his hand werethe fragments of a crushed up note. 

"Come across to the hotel with me, " she begged, forgetful of everythingexcept her own immense relief. "Come and help me count. I have beenwinning. I have won back everything. "

He accepted the information with only a polite show of interest. Afterall, as she reflected afterwards, he had no idea upon what scale she hadbeen gambling!

"I am delighted to hear it, " he answered. "I'll see you across the road, if I may, but I have only a few minutes to spare. I have anappointment. "

She was acutely disappointed; unreasonably, furiously angry. 

"An appointment!" she exclaimed. "At half-past eleven o'clock at night!Are you waiting for Felicia Roche?"

"Is there any reason why I should not?" he asked her gravely. 

She bit her lips hard. They were crossing the road now. After all, itwas only a few months since she had bidden him go his own way and leaveher to regulate her own friendships. 

"No reason at all, " she admitted, "only I cannot see why you choose toadvertise yourself with an opera singer--you, an ambitious politician, who moves with his head in the clouds, and to whom women are no morethan a pastime. Why have you waited all these years to commence aflirtation under my very nose!"

He looked at her sternly. 

"I think that you are a little excited, Violet, " he said. "You surelydon't realise what you are saying. "

"Excited! Tell me once more--you got my note, the one I wrote thisevening?"

"Certainly. "

His brief reply was convincing. She remembered the few impulsive lineswhich she had written from her heart in that moment of glad relief. There was no sign in his face that he had been touched. Even at thatmoment he had drawn out his watch and was looking at it. 

"Thank you for bringing me here, " she said, as they stood upon the stepsof the hotel. "Don't let me keep you. "

"After all, " he decided, "I think that I shall go up to my room for aminute. Good night!"

She looked after him, a little amazed. She was conscious of a feeling ofslow anger. His aloofness repelled her, was utterly inexplicable. Foronce it was she who was being badly treated. Her moment of exhilarationhad passed. She sat down in the lounge; her satchel, filled with millefranc notes, lay upon her lap unheeded. She sat there thinking, seeingnothing of the crowds of fashionably dressed women and men passing inand out of the hotel; of the gaily-lit square outside, the cool green ofthe gardens, the café opposite, the brilliantly-lit Casino. She was backagain for a moment in England. The strain of all this life, whipped intoan artificial froth of pleasure by the constant excitement of the oneaccepted vice of the world, had suddenly lost its hold upon her. Theinevitable question had presented itself. She was counting values andrealising. .. . 

When at last she rose wearily to her feet, Hunterleys was passingthrough the hall of the hotel, on his way out. She looked at him withaching heart but she made no effort to stop him. He had changed hisclothes for a dark suit and he was also wearing a long travelling coatand tweed cap. She watched him wistfully until he had disappeared. Thenshe turned away, summoned the lift and went up to her rooms. She rang atonce for her maid. She would take a bath, she decided, and go to bedearly. She would wash all the dust of these places away from her, abjureall manner of excitement and for once sleep peacefully. In the morningshe would see Henry once more. Deep in her heart there still lingeredsome faint shadow of doubt as to Draconmeyer and his attitude towardsher. It was scarcely possible that he could have interfered in any way, and yet. .. . She would talk to her husband face to face, she would tellhim the things that were in her heart. 

She rang the bell for the second time. Only the _femme de chambre_answered the summons. Madame's maid was not to be found. Madame had notonce retired so early. It was possible that Susanne had gone out. Couldshe be of any service? Violet looked at her and hesitated. The woman wasclumsy-fingered and none too tidy. She shook her head and sent her away. For a moment she thought of undressing herself. Then instead she openedher satchel and counted the notes. Her breath came more quickly as shelooked at the shower of gold and counted the many oblong strips of paperwith their magic lettering. At last she had it all in heaps. There werethe twenty-five mille he had left with her, and the seventy-five milleshe had borrowed from him. Then towards her own losses there was anothermille, and a matter of five hundred francs in gold. And all thissuccess, her wonderful recovery, had been done so easily! It was justbecause she had had the pluck to go on, because she had followed hervein. She looked at the money and she walked to the window. Somewhere aband was playing in the distance. Little parties of men and women inevening dress were strolling by on their way to the Club. A woman waslaughing as she clung to her escort on the opposite side of the road, bythe gardens. Across at the Café de Paris the people were going in tosupper. The spirit of enjoyment seemed to be in the air--thelight-hearted, fascinating, devil-may-care atmosphere she knew so well. Violet looked back into the bedroom and she no longer had the impulse tosleep. Her face had hardened a little. Every one was so happy and shewas so lonely. She stuffed the notes and gold back into her bag, lookedat her hat in the glass and touched her face for a moment with apowder-puff. Then she left the room, rang for the lift and descended. 

"I am going into the Club for an hour or so, if I am wanted, " she toldthe concierge as she passed out. 

 * * * * *

Hunterleys, on leaving the hotel, walked rapidly across the square andfound David waiting for him on the opposite side. 

"Felicia will be late, " the latter explained. "She has to get all thatbeastly black stuff off her face. She is horribly nervous about Sidneyand she doesn't want you to wait. I think perhaps she is right, too. Shetold me to tell you that Monsieur Lafont himself came to her room andcongratulated her after the curtain had gone down. She is almosthysterical between happiness and anxiety about Sidney. Where's yourman?"

"I asked him to be a little higher up, " Hunterleys replied. "There heis. "

They walked a few steps up the hill and found Richard Lane waiting forthem in his car. The long, grey racer looked almost like some submarinemonster, with its flaring head-lights and torpedo-shaped body whichscarcely cleared the ground. 

"Ready for orders, sir, " the young man announced, touching his cap. 

"Is there room for three of us, in case of an emergency?" Hunterleysasked. 

"The third man has to sit on the floor, " Richard pointed out, "but itisn't so comfortable as it looks. "

Hunterleys clambered in and took the vacant place. David Bristonlingered by a little wistfully. 

"I feel rather a skunk, " he grumbled. "I don't see why I shouldn't comealong. "

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"There isn't the slightest need for it, " he declared firmly. "You goback and look after Felicia. Tell her we'll get Sidney out of this allright. Get away with you, Lane, now. "

"Where to?"

"To the Villa Mimosa!"

Richard whistled as he thrust in his clutch. 

"So that's the game, is it?" he murmured, as they glided off. 

Hunterleys leaned towards him. 

"Lane, " he said, "don't forget that I warned you there might be a littletrouble about to-night. If you feel the slightest hesitation aboutinvolving yourself--"

"Shut up!" Richard interrupted. "Whatever trouble you're ready to face, I'm all for it, too. Darned queer thing that we should be going to theVilla Mimosa, though! I am not exactly a popular person with Mr. Grex, Ithink. "

Hunterleys smiled. 

"I saw your sister this afternoon, " he remarked. "You are rather awonderful young man. "

"I knew it was all up with me, " Richard replied simply, "when I firstsaw that girl. Now look here, Hunterleys, we are almost there. Tell meexactly what it is you want me to do?"

"I want you, " Hunterleys explained, "to risk a smash, if you don't mind. I want you to run up to the boundaries of the villa gardens, head yourcar back for Monte Carlo, and while you are waiting there turn out allyour lights. "

"That's easy enough, " Richard assented. "I'll turn out the search-lightaltogether, and my others are electric, worked by a button. Is this anelopement act or what?"

"There's a meeting going on in that villa, " Hunterleys told him, "between prominent politicians of three countries. You don't have tobother much about Secret Service over in the States, although there'smore goes on than you know of in that direction. But over here we haveto make regular use of Secret Service men--spies, if you like to callthem so. The meeting to-night is inimical to England. It is part of aconspiracy against which I am working. Sidney Roche--Felicia Roche'sbrother--who lives here as a newspaper correspondent, is in reality oneof our best Secret Service men. He is taking terrible chances to-nightto learn a little more about the plans which these fellows arediscussing. We are here in case he needs our help to get away. We'vecleared the shrubs away, close to the spot at which I am going to askyou to wait, and taken the spikes off the fence. It's just a thousand toone chance that if he's hard pressed for it and heads this way, they maythink that they have him in a trap and take it quietly. That is to say, they'll wait to capture him instead of shooting. "

"Say, you don't mean this seriously?" Richard exclaimed. "They can't domore than arrest him as a trespasser, or something of that sort, surely?"

Hunterleys laughed grimly. 

"These men wouldn't stick at much, " he told his companion. "They're handin glove with the authorities here. Anything they did would be hushed upin the name of the law. These things are never allowed to come out. Itdoesn't do any one any good to have them gossiped about. If they caughtSidney and shot him, we should never make a protest. It's all part ofthe game, you know. Now that is the spot I want you to stop at, exactlywhere the mimosa tree leans over the path. But first of all, I'd turnout your head-light. "

They slowed down and stopped. Richard extinguished the acetylenegas-lamp and mounted again to his place. Then he swung the car round andcrawled back upon the reverse until he reached the spot to whichHunterleys had pointed. 

"You're a good fellow, Richard, " Hunterleys said softly. "We may have towait an hour or two, and it may be that nothing will happen, but it'sgiving the fellow a chance, and it gives him confidence, too, to knowthat friends are at hand. "

"I'm in the game for all it's worth, anyway, " Lane declared heartily. 

He touched a button and the lights faded away. The two men sat insilence, both turned a little in their seats towards the villa. 

CHAPTER XXIX

FOR HIS COUNTRY

The minutes glided by as the two men sat together in the perfumed, shadowy darkness. From their feet the glittering canopy of lights sweptupwards to the mountain-sides, even to the stars, but a chain of slowlydrifting black clouds hung down in front of the moon, and until theireyes became accustomed to their surroundings it seemed to both of themas though they were sitting in a very pit of darkness. 

"It is possible, " Hunterleys whispered, after some time, "that we mayhave to wait for another hour yet. "

Richard was suddenly tense. He sat up, and his foot reached for theself-starter. 

"I don't think you will, " he muttered. "Listen!"

Almost immediately they were conscious of some commotion in thedirection of the villa, followed by a shot and then a cry. 

"Start the engine, " Hunterleys directed hoarsely, standing up in hisplace. "I'm afraid they've got him. "

There were two more shots but no further cry. Then they heard the soundof excited voices and immediately afterwards rapidly approachingfootsteps. A man came crashing through the shrubbery, but when hereached the fence over which, for a moment, his white face gleamed, hesank down as though powerless to climb. Hunterleys leapt to the groundand rushed to the fence. 

"Hold up, Sidney, old fellow, " he called softly. "We're here all right. Hold up for a moment and let me lift you. "

Roche struggled to his feet. His face was ghastly white, the sweat stoodout upon his forehead, his lips moved but no words came. Hunterleys gothim by the arms, set his teeth and lifted. The task would have been toomuch for him, but Richard, springing from the car, came to his help. With an effort they hoisted him over the fence. Almost as they did sothere was the sound of footsteps dashing through the shrubs, and a shot, the bullet of which tore the bark from the trunk of a tree close athand. The car leapt off in fourth speed, Sidney supported in Hunterleys'arms. A loud shout from behind only brought Richard's foot down upon theaccelerator. 

"Stoop low!" he cried to Hunterleys. "Get your legs in, if you can. "

A bullet struck the back of the car and another whistled over theirheads. Then they dashed around the corner, and Richard, turning on thelights, jammed down his accelerator. 

"Gee whiz! that's a bloodthirsty crew!" the young man exclaimed, hiseyes fixed upon the road. "Is he hurt?"

Roche was lying back on the seat. Hunterleys was on his knees, holdingon to the framework of the car. 

"They've got me all right, Hunterleys, " Roche faltered. "Listen. Everything went well with me at first. I could hear--nearly everything. The Frenchman kept his mouth shut--tight as wax. Grex did most of thetalking. Russia sees nothing in the entente--England has nothing tooffer her. She'd rather keep friends with Germany. Russia wants to moveeastward--all Persia--India. She's only lukewarm, any way, about theFrench alliance as things stand at present, and dead off any truck withEngland. There's talk of Constantinople, and Germany to march three armycorps through a weak French resistance to Calais. They talked of Franceacting to her pledges, putting her recruits in the front, taking aslight defeat, making a peace on her own account, with Alsace andLorraine restored. She can pay. Germany wants the money. Germany--Germany--"

The words died away in a little groan. The wounded man's head fell back. Hunterleys passed his arm around the limp figure. 

"Take the first turn to the right and second to the left, Richard, " hedirected. "We'll drive straight to the hospital. I made friends with theEnglish doctor last night. He promised to be there till three. I paidhim a fee on purpose. "

"First to the right, " Richard muttered, swinging around. "Second to theleft, eh?"

Hunterleys was holding his brandy flask to Roche's lips as they swungthrough the white gates and pulled up outside the hospital. The doctorwas faithful to his promise, and Roche, who was now unconscious, wascarried in. In the hall he was laid upon an ambulance and borne off bytwo attendants. Hunterleys and Lane sat down to wait in the hall. Afterwhat seemed to them an interminable half-hour, the doctor reappeared. Hecame over to them at once. 

"Your friend may live, " he announced, "but in any case he will beunconscious for the next twenty-four hours. There is no need for you tostay, or for you to fetch the young lady you spoke of, at present. If hedies, he will die unconscious. I can tell you nothing more until theafternoon. "

Hunterleys rose slowly to his feet. 

"You'll do everything you can, doctor?" he begged. "Money doesn'tcount. "

"Money never counts here, " the doctor replied gravely. "We shall savehim if it is possible. You've nothing to tell me, I suppose, as to howhe met with his wound?"

"Nothing. "

They walked out together into the night. The bank of clouds had driftedaway now and the moon was shining. Below them, barely a quarter of amile away, they could see the flare of lights from the Casino. A womanwas laughing hysterically through the open windows of a house on theother side of the way. Some one was playing a violin in a café at thecorner of the street. 

"Richard, " Hunterleys said, "will you see me through? I have to get toCannes as fast as I can to send a cable. I daren't send it from here, even in code. "

"I'll drive you to Cannes like a shot, " Richard assented heartily. "Justa brandy and soda on our way out, and I'll show you some prettydriving. "

They stopped at the Café de Paris and left the car under the trees. Bothmen took a long drink and Richard filled his pocket with cigarettes. Then they re-entered the car, lit up, and glided off on the road forCannes. Richard had become more serious. His boyish manner andappearance had temporarily gone. He drove, even, with less than hisusual recklessness. 

"That was a fine fellow, " he remarked enthusiastically, after a longpause, "that fellow Roche!"

"And we've many more like him, " Hunterleys declared. "We've men in everypart of the world doing what seems like dirty work, ill-paid work, too, doing it partly, perhaps, because the excitement grows on them and theylove it, but always, they have to start in cold blood. The papers don'talways tell the truth, you know. There's many a death in foreign citiesyou read of as a suicide, or the result of an accident, when it's reallythe sacrifice of a hero for his country. It's great work, Richard. "

"Makes me feel kind of ashamed, " Richard muttered. "I've never doneanything but play around all my life. Anyway, those sort of things don'tcome to us in our country. America's too powerful and too isolated toneed help of that description. We shouldn't have any use for politiciansof your class, or for Secret Service men. "

"If you're in earnest, " Hunterleys advised, "you go to Washington andask them about it some day. The time's coming, if it hasn't alreadyarrived, when your country will have to develop a different class ofpoliticians. You see, whether she wants it or not, she is coming intotouch, through Asia and South America, with European interests, and ifshe does, she'll have to adopt their methods more or less. Poor oldRoche! There was something more he wanted to say, and if it's what I'vebeen expecting, your country was in it. "

"I guess I'll take Fedora over for our honeymoon, " Richard decidedsoftly. "Don't see why I shouldn't come into one of the Embassies. I'm abit of a hulk to go about the world doing nothing. "

Hunterleys laughed quietly. 

"My young friend, " he said, "aren't you taking your marriage prospects alittle for granted? May I be there when you ask Augustus Nicholas IvanPeter, Grand Duke of Vassura, Prince of Melinkoff, cousin of HisImperial Majesty the Czar, for the hand of his daughter in marriage!"

"So that's it, is it?" Lane murmured. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Hunterleys shook his head. He gazed steadfastly along the road in frontof him. 

"It wasn't to my interest to have it known too generally, " he said, "andI am afraid your little love affair didn't strike me as being of muchimportance by the side of the other things. But you've earned the truth, if it's any use to you. "

"Well, " Richard observed, "I wasn't counting on having any witnesses, but you can come along if you like. I suppose, " he added, "I shall haveto do him the courtesy of asking his permission, but--"

"But what?" Hunterleys asked curiously. 

They were on a long stretch of straight, white road. Richard looked fora moment up to the sky, and Hunterleys, watching him, was amazed at thetransformation. 

"There isn't a Grand Duke or a Prince or an Imperial Majesty alive, " hesaid, "who could rob me of Fedora!"

CHAPTER XXX

"SUPPOSING I TAKE THIS MONEY"

There was a momentary commotion in the Club. A woman had fainted at oneof the roulette tables. Her chair was quickly drawn back. She was helpedout to the open space at the top of the stairs and placed in aneasy-chair there. Lady Weybourne, who was on the point of leaving withher husband, hastened back. She stood there while the usual restorativeswere being administered, fanning the unconscious woman with a whiteostrich fan which hung from her waist. Presently Violet opened her eyes. She recognised Lady Weybourne and smiled weakly. 

"I am so sorry, " she murmured. "It was silly of me to stay in here solong. I went without my dinner, too, which was rather idiotic. "

A man who had announced himself a doctor, bent over her pulse and turnedaway. 

"The lady will be quite all right now, " he said. "You can give herbrandy and soda if she feels like it. Pardon!"

He hastened back to his place at the baccarat table. Lady Hunterleys satup. 

"It was quite absurd of me, " she declared. "I don't know what--"

She stopped suddenly. The weight was once more upon her heart, theblankness before her eyes. She remembered!

"I am quite able to go home now, " she added. 

Her gold bag lay upon her lap. It was almost empty. She looked at itvacantly and then closed the snap. 

"We'll see you back to the hotel, " Lady Weybourne said soothingly. "Herecomes Harry with the brandy and soda. "

Lord Weybourne came hurrying from the bar, a tumbler in his hand. 

"How nice of you!" Violet exclaimed gratefully. "Really, I feel thatthis is just what I need. I wonder what time it is?"

"Half past four, " Lord Weybourne announced, glancing at his watch. 

She laughed weakly. 

"How stupid of me! I have been between here and the Casino for nearlytwelve hours, and had nothing to eat. No, I won't have anything here, thanks, " she added, as Lord Weybourne started back again for the bar, muttering something about a sandwich. "I'll have something in my room. If you are going back to the hotel, perhaps I could come with you. "

They all three left the place together, passing along the private way. 

"I haven't seen your brother all day, " Violet remarked to LadyWeybourne. 

"Richard's gone off somewhere in the car to-night, a most mysteriousexpedition, " his sister declared. "I began to think that it must be anelopement, but I see the yacht's there still, and he would surely choosethe yacht in preference to a motor-car, if he were running off withanybody! Your husband doesn't come into the rooms much?"

Violet shook her head. 

"He hasn't the gambling instinct, " she said quietly. "Perhaps he is justas well without it. One gets a lot of amusement out of this playing forsmall stakes, but it is irritating to lose. Thank you so much forlooking after me, " she added, as they reached the hall of the hotel. "Iam quite all right now and my woman will be sitting up for me. "

She passed into the lift. Lady Weybourne looked after her admiringly. 

"Say, she's got some pluck, Harry!" she murmured. "They say she lostnearly a hundred mille to-night and she never even mentioned herlosings. Irritating, indeed! I wonder what Sir Henry thinks of it. Theyare only moderately well off. "

Her husband shrugged his shoulders, after the fashion of his sex. 

"Let us hope, " he said, "that it is Sir Henry who suffers. "

 * * * * *

Violet slipped out of her gown and dismissed her maid. In herdressing-gown she sat before the open window. Everywhere the placeseemed steeped in the faint violet and purple light preceding the dawn. Away eastwards she could catch a glimpse of the mountains, their peakscut sharply against the soft, deep sky; a crystalline glow, the firstherald of the hidden sunrise, hanging about their summits. The gentlebreeze from the Mediterranean was cool and sweet. There were many lightsstill gleaming upon the sea, but their effect now seemed tawdry. She satthere, her head resting upon her hands. She had the feeling of beingsomehow detached from the whole world of visible objects, as though, indeed, she were on her death-bed. Surely it was not possible to passany further through life than this! In her thoughts she went back to thefirst days of estrangement between her husband and herself. Almostbefore she realised it, she found herself struggling against thetenderness which still survived, which seemed at that moment to betearing at her heart-strings. He had ceased to care, she told herself. It was all too apparent that he had ceased to care. He was amusinghimself elsewhere. Her little impulsive note had not won even a kindword from him. Her appeals, on one excuse or another, had beendisregarded. She had lost her place in his life, thrown it away, shetold herself bitterly. And in its stead--what! A new fear of Draconmeyerwas stealing over her. He presented himself suddenly as an evil genius. She went back through the last few days. Her brain seemed unexpectedlyclear, her perceptions unerring. She saw with hateful distinctness howhe had forced this money upon her, how he had encouraged her all thetime to play beyond her means. She realised the cunning with which hehad left that last bundle of notes in her keeping. Well, there the factswere. She owed him now four thousand pounds. She had no money of herown, she was already overdrawn with her allowance. There was no chanceof paying him. She realised, with a little shudder, that he did not wantpayment, a realisation which had come to her dimly from the first, butwhich she had pushed away simply because she had felt sure of winning. Now there was the price to be paid! She leaned further out of thewindow. Away to her left the glow over the mountains was becomingstained with the faintest of pinks. She looked at it long, with mute andcritical appreciation. She swept with her eyes the line of violetshadows from the mountain-tops to the sea-board, where the pale lightsof Bordighera still flickered. She looked up again from the dark bluesea to the paling stars. It was all wonderful--theatrical, perhaps, butwonderful--and how she hated it! She stood up before the window and withher clenched fists she beat against the sills. Those long days andfeverish nights through which she had passed slowly unfolded themselves. In those few moments she seemed to taste again the dull pain of constantdisappointment, the hectic thrills of occasional winnings, the strange, dull inertia which had taken the place of resignation. She looked intothe street below. How long would she live afterwards, she wondered, ifshe threw herself down! She began even to realise the state of mindwhich breeds suicides, the brooding over a morrow too hateful to befaced. 

As she still stood there, the silence of the street below was broken. Amotor-car swung round the corner and swept past the side of the hotel. She caught at the curtain as she recognised its occupants. Richard Lanewas driving, and by his side sat her husband. The car was covered withdust, both men seemed weary as though they had been out all night. Shegazed after them with fast-beating heart. She had pictured her husbandat the villa on the hill! Where had he been with Richard Lane? Perhaps, after all, the things which she had imagined were not true. The car hadstopped now at the front door. It returned a moment later on its way tothe garage, with only Lane driving. She opened her door and stood theresilently. Hunterleys would have to pass the end of the corridor if hecame up by the main lift. She waited with fast beating heart. Theseconds passed. Then she heard the rattle of the lift ascending, itsclick as it stopped, and soon afterwards the footsteps of a man. He wascoming--coming past the corner! At that moment she felt that the soundof his footsteps was like the beating of fate. They came nearer and sheshrank a little back. There was something unfamiliar about them. Whoeverit might be, it was not Henry! And then suddenly Draconmeyer came intosight. He saw her standing there and stopped short. Then he came rapidlynear. 

"Lady Hunterleys!" he exclaimed softly. "You still up?"

She hesitated. Then she stood on one side, still grasping the handle ofthe door. 

"Do you want to come in?" she asked. "You may. I have something to sayto you. Perhaps I shall sleep better if I say it now. "

He stepped quickly past her. 

"Close the door, " he whispered cautiously. 

She obeyed him deliberately. 

"There is no hurry, " she said. "This is my sitting-room. I receive whomI choose here. "

"But it is nearly six o'clock!" he exclaimed. 

"That does not affect me, " she answered, shrugging her shoulders. "Sitdown. "

He obeyed. There was something changed about her, something which he didnot recognise. She thrust her hands into a box of cigarettes, took oneout and lit it. She leaned against the table, facing him. 

"Listen, " she continued, "I have borrowed from you three thousandpounds. You left with me to-night--I don't know whether you meant tolend it to me or whether I had it on trust, but you left it in mycharge--another thousand pounds. I have lost it all--all, youunderstand--the four thousand pounds and every penny I have of my own. "

He sat quite still. He was watching her through his gold-rimmedspectacles. There was the slightest possible frown upon his forehead. The time for talking of money as though it were a trifle had passed. 

"That is a great deal, " he said. 

"It is a great deal, " she admitted. "I owe it to you and I cannot pay. What are you going to do?"

He watched her eagerly. There was a new note in her voice. He paused toconsider what it might mean. A single false step now and he might loseall that he had striven for. 

"How am I to answer that?" he asked softly. "I will answer it first inthe way that seems most natural. I will beg you to accept your losingsas a little gift from me--as a proof, if you will, of my friendship. "

He had saved the situation. If he had obeyed his first impulse, theaffair would have been finished. He realised it as he watched her face, and he shuddered at the thought of his escape. His words obviouslydisturbed her. 

"It is not possible for me, " she protested, "to accept money from you. "

"Not from Linda's husband?"

She threw her cigarette into the grate and stood looking at him. 

"Do you offer it to me as Linda's husband?" she demanded. 

It was a crisis for which Draconmeyer was scarcely prepared. He wasdriven out of his pusillanimous compromise. She was pressing him hardfor the truth. Again the fear of losing her altogether terrified him. 

"If I have other feelings of which I have not spoken, " he said quietly, "have I not kept them to myself? Do I obtrude them upon you even now? Iam content to wait. "

"To wait for what?" she insisted. 

All that had been in his mind seemed suddenly miraged before him--theremoval of Hunterleys, his own wife's failing health. The way had seemedso clear only a little time ago, and now the clouds were back again. 

"Until you appreciate the fact, " he told her, "that you have no moresincere friend, that there is no one who values your happiness more thanI do. "

"Supposing I take this money from you, " she asked, after a moment'spause. "Are there any conditions?"

"None whatever, " he answered. 

She turned away with a little sigh. The tragedy which a few minutes agoshe had seen looming up, eluded her. She had courted a dénouement invain. He was too clever. 

"You are very generous, " she said. "We will speak of this to-morrow. Icalled you in because I could not bear the uncertainty of it all. Pleasego now. "

He rose slowly to his feet. She gave him her hand lifelessly. He kept itfor a moment. She drew it away and looked at the place where his lipshad touched it, wonderingly. It was as though her fingers had beenscorched with fire. 

"It shall be to-morrow, " he whispered, as he passed out. 

CHAPTER XXXI

NEARING A CRISIS

From the wilds of Scotland to Monte Carlo, as fast as motor-cars andtrain de luxe could bring him, came the right Honourable MeredithSimpson, a very distinguished member of His Majesty's Government. Hunterleys, advised of his coming by telegram from Marseilles, met himat the station, and together the two men made their way at once toHunterleys' room across at the Hotel de Paris. Behind locked doors theyspoke for the first time of important matters. 

"It's a great find, this of yours, Hunterleys, " the Ministeracknowledged, "and it is corroborated, too, by what we know is happeningaround us. We have had all the warning in the world just lately. TheRussian Ambassador is in St. Petersburg on leave of absence--in fact forthe last six months he has been taking his duties remarkably lightly. Tell me how you first heard of the affair?"

"I got wind of it in Sofia, " Hunterleys explained. "I travelled fromthere quite quietly, loitered about the Italian Riviera, and came onhere as a tourist. The only help I could get hold of here was fromSidney Roche, who, as you know, is one of our Secret Service men. Roche, I am sorry to say, was shot last night. He may live but he won't be wellenough to take any further hand in the game here, and I have no one totake his place. "

"Roche shot!" Mr. Simpson exclaimed, in a shocked tone. "How did ithappen?"

"They found him lying on the roof of the Villa Mimosa, just over theroom where the meeting was taking place, " Hunterleys replied. "Theychased him round the grounds and we just got him off in a motor-car, butnot before he'd been hit twice. He was just able to tell me a little. The first meeting was quite informal and very guarded. Douaille was mostcautious--he was there only to listen. The second meeting was lastnight. Grex was in the chair, representing Russia. "

"You mean the Grand Duke Augustus?" Mr. Simpson interrupted. 

Hunterleys nodded. 

"Grex is the name he is living under here. He explained Russia'sposition. Poor Roche was only able to falter a few words, but what hesaid was enough to give us the key-note to the whole thing. The long andshort of it all is that Russia turned her face westward so long asConstantinople was possible. Now that this war has come about and endedas it has done, Russia's chance has gone. There is no longer any _quidpro quo_ for her alliance with France. There is no friendship, ofcourse, between Russia and Germany, but at any rate Russia has nothingto fear from Germany, and she knows it. Grex is quite frank. They mustlook eastward, he said, and when he says eastward, he means Manchuria, China, Persia, even India. At the same time, Russia has a conscience, even though it be a diplomatic conscience. Hence this conference. Shedoesn't want France crushed. Germany has a proposition. It has beenenunciated up to a certain point. She confers Alsace and Lorraine andpossibly Egypt upon France, for her neutrality whilst she destroys theBritish Fleet. Or failing her neutrality, she wants her to place a weakarmy on the frontier, which can fall back without much loss before aGerman advance. Germany's objective then will be Calais and not Paris, and from there she will command the Straits and deal with the BritishFleet at her leisure. Meanwhile, she will conclude peace with France onhighly advantageous terms. Don't you see what it means, Simpson? Theelementary part of the thing is as simple as A B C. Germany has nothingto gain from Russia, she has nothing to gain from France. England is theonly country who can give her what she wants. That is about as far asthey have got, up to now, but there is something further behind it all. That, Selingman is to tell them to-night. "

"The most important point about the whole matter, so far as we areconcerned, " Mr. Simpson declared, "is Douaille's attitude. You havereceived no indication of that, I suppose?"

"None whatever, " Hunterleys answered. "I thought of paying my respects, but after all, you know, I have no official standing, and personally weare almost strangers. "

The Minister nodded. 

"It's a difficult position, " he confessed. "Have you copies of yourreports to London?"

"I have copies of them, and full notes of everything that has transpiredso far, in a strong box up at the bank, " Hunterleys assented. "We canstroll up there after lunch and I will place all the documents in yourhands. You can look them through then and decide what is best to bedone. "

The Minister rose to his feet. 

"I shall go round to my rooms, change my clothes, " he announced, "andmeet you presently. We'll lunch across at Ciro's, eh? I didn't mean tocome to Monte Carlo this year, but so long as I am here, I may as wellmake the best of it. You are not looking as though the change had doneyou much good, Hunterleys. "

"The last few days, " Hunterleys remarked, a little drily, "have not beenexactly in the nature of a holiday. "

"Are you here alone?"

"I came alone. I found my wife here by accident. She came through withthe Draconmeyers. They were supposed to stay at Cannes, but alteredtheir plans. Of course, Draconmeyer meant to come here all the time. "

The Minister frowned. 

"Draconmeyer's one man I should be glad to see out of London, " hedeclared. "Under the pretext of fostering good-will, and that sort ofthing, between the mercantile classes of our two countries, I think thatthat fellow has done about as much mischief as it is possible for anysingle man to have accomplished. We'll meet in an hour, Hunterleys. Myman is putting out some things for me and I must have a bath. "

Hunterleys walked up to the hospital, and to his surprise met Selingmancoming away. The latter saluted him with a wave of the hat and a genialsmile. 

"Calling to see our poor invalid?" he enquired blandly. 

Hunterleys, although he knew his man, was a little taken aback. 

"What share in him do you claim?" he asked. 

Selingman sighed. 

"Alas!" he confessed, "I fear that my claim would sound a littlecold-blooded. I think that I was the only man who held his gun straight. Yet, after all, Roche would be the last to bear me any grudge. He wasplaying the game, taking his risks. Uncommonly bad marksmen Grex'sprivate police were, or he'd be in the morgue instead of the hospital. "

"I gather that our friend is still alive?" Hunterleys remarked. 

"Going on as well as could be expected, " Selingman replied. 

"Conscious?"

Selingman smiled. 

"You see through my little visit of sympathy at once!" he exclaimed. "Unable to converse, I am assured, and unable to share with his friendsany little information he may have picked up last night. By the way, whom shall you send to report our little conference to-night? Youwouldn't care to come yourself, would you?"

"I should like to exceedingly, " Hunterleys assured him, "if you'd giveme a safe conduct. "

Selingman withdrew his cigar from his mouth and laid his hand upon theother's shoulder. 

"My dear friend, " he said earnestly, "your safe conduct, if ever Isigned it, would be to the other world. Frankly, we find you rather anuisance. We would be better pleased if your Party were in office, andyou with your knees tucked under a desk at Downing Street, attending toyour official business in your official place. Who gave you this rovingcommission, eh? Who sent you to talk common sense to the Balkan States, and how the mischief did you get wind of our little meeting here?"

"Ah!" Hunterleys replied, "I expect you really know all these things. "

Selingman, with his feet planted firmly upon the pavement, took a freshcigar from his waistcoat pocket, bit off the end and lit it. 

"My friend Hunterleys, " he continued, "I am enjoying this briefinterchange of confidences. Circumstances have made me, as you see, apolitician, a schemer if you like. Nature meant me to be one of thefrankest, the most truthful, the best-hearted of men. I detest thetortuous ways of the old diplomacy. The spoken word pleases me best. That is why I like a few minutes' conversation with the enemy, why Ilove to stand here and talk to you with the buttons off our foils. Weare scheming against you and your country, and you know it, and we shallwin. We can't help but win--if not to-day, to-morrow. Your country hashad a marvellously long run of good luck, but it can't last for ever. "

Hunterleys smiled. 

"Well, " he observed, "there's nothing like confidence. If you are sosure of success, why couldn't you choose a cleaner way to it than bytampering with our ally?"

Selingman patted his companion on the shoulder. 

"Listen, my friend, " he said, "there are no such things as allies. Analliance between two countries is a dead letter so soon as theirinterests cease to be identical. Now Austria is our ally because she ispractically Germany. We are both mid-Continental Powers. We both needthe same protection. But England and France! Go back only fifty years, my dear Hunterleys, and ask yourself--would any living person, livingnow and alive then, believe in the lasting nature of such an unnaturalalliance? Wherever you look, in every quarter of the globe, yourinterests are opposed. You robbed France of Egypt. She can't have whollyforgotten. You dominate the Mediterranean through Gibraltar, Malta, andCyprus. What does she think of that, I wonder? Isn't a humiliation forher when she does stop to think of it? You've a thousand years ofquarrels, of fighting and rapine behind you. You can't call yourselvesallies because the thing isn't natural. It never could be. It was onlyyour mutual, hysterical fear of Germany which drove you into oneanother's arms. We fought France once to prove ourselves, and for money. Just now we don't want either money or territory from France. Perhaps wedon't even want, my dear Englishman, what you think we want, but all thesame, don't blame us for trying to dissolve an unnatural alliance. Wasthat Simpson who came by the Luxe this morning?"

"It was, " Hunterleys admitted. 

"The Right Honourable John William Meredith Simpson!" Selingman recited, waving his cigar. "Well, well, we certainly have made a stir with ourlittle meetings here. An inspired English Cabinet Minister, travel-stained and dusty, arrives with his valet and a blackdispatch-box, to foil our schemes. Send him along, my friend. We are notat all afraid of Mr. Simpson. Perhaps we may even ask him to join usthis evening. "

"I fancy, " Hunterleys remarked grimly, "that the Englishman who joinsyou this evening will find a home up on the hill here. "

"Or down in the morgue there, " Selingman grunted, pointing down toMonaco. "Take care, Hunterleys--take care, man. One of us hates you. Itisn't I. You are fighting a brave fight and a losing fight, but you aregood metal. Try and remember, when you find that you are beaten, thatlife has many consolations for the philosopher. "

He passed on and Hunterleys entered the hospital. Whilst he was waitingin the little reception-room, Felicia came in. Her face showed signs ofher night's anxiety. 

"Sidney is still unconscious, " she announced, her voice shaking alittle. "The doctors seem hopeful--but oh! Sir Henry, it is terrible tosee him lying there just as though he were dead!"

"Sidney will pull through all right, " Hunterleys declared, encouragingly. "He has a wonderful constitution and he is the luckiestfellow born. He always gets out of trouble, somehow or other. "

She came slowly up to him. 

"Sir Henry, " she said piteously, "I know quite well that Sidney waswilling to take his risks. He went into this thing, knowing it wasdangerous. I want to be brave. What happens must be. But listen. Youwon't--you won't rob me of everything in life, will you? You won't sendDavid after him?"

Hunterleys smiled reassuringly. 

"I can promise you that, " he told her. "This isn't David's job at all. He has to stick to his post and help out the bluff as a presscorrespondent. Don't be afraid, Felicia. You shall have your David. "

She seized his hand and kissed it. 

"You have been so kind to me always, Sir Henry, " she sighed. "I can'ttell you how thankful I am to think that you don't want David to go andrun these horrible risks. "

"No fear of that, I promise you, " he assured her once more. "David willbe busy enough pulling the strings another way. "

The doctor entered the room and shook hands with Hunterleys. There wasno news, he declared, nothing to be done. The patient must continue inhis present condition for several more hours at least. The symptomswere, in their way, favourable. Beyond that, nothing could be said. Felicia and Hunterleys left the hospital together. 

"I wonder, " she began, as they turned out of the white gates, "whetheryou would mind very much if I told you something?"

"Of course not!"

"Yesterday, " she continued slowly, "I met Lady Hunterleys. You know, Ihave seen her twice when I have been to your house to sing for yourguests. She recognised me, I feel sure, but she didn't seem to want tosee me. She looked surprised when I bowed. I worried about it at firstand then I wondered. You are so very, very secretive just now. Whateverthis affair may be in which you three are all concerned, you never openyour lips about it. Lady Hunterleys probably doesn't know that you havehad to come up to the villa at all hours of the night just to seeSidney. You don't suppose that by any chance she imagined--that you cameto see me?"

Hunterleys was struck by the thought. He remembered several chanceremarks of his wife. He remembered, too, the coincidence of his recentvisits to the villa having prevented him in each case from acceding tosome request of Violet's. 

"I am glad you've mentioned this, child, " he said frankly. "Now I cometo think of it, my wife certainly did know that I came up to the villavery late one night, and she seemed upset about it. Of course, shehasn't the faintest idea about your brother. "

"Well, " Felicia declared, with a sigh of relief, "I felt that I had totell you. It sounded horribly conceited, in a way, but then she wouldn'tknow that you came to see Sidney, or that I was engaged to David. Misunderstandings do come about so easily, you know, sometimes. "

"This one shall be put right, at any rate, " he promised her. "Now, ifyou will take my advice, you will go home and lie down until theevening. You are going to sing again, aren't you?"

"If there is no change, " she replied. "I know that he would like me to. You haven't minded--what I've said?"

"Not a bit, child, " he assured her; "in fact I think it was very good ofyou. Now I'll put you in this carriage and send you home. Think ofnothing except that Sidney is getting better every hour, and singto-night as though your voice could reach his bedside. Au revoir!"

He waved his hand to her as she drove off, and returned to the Hotel deParis. He found a refreshed and rejuvenated Simpson smoking a cigaretteupon the steps. 

"To lunch!" the latter exclaimed. "Afterwards I will tell you my plans. "

CHAPTER XXXII

AN INTERESTING MEETING

Hunterleys leaned suddenly forward across the little round table. 

"The question of whether or no you shall pay your respects to MonsieurDouaille, " he remarked, "is solved. Unless I am very much mistaken, weare going to have an exceedingly interesting luncheon-party on ourright. "

"Monsieur Douaille----" Mr. Simpson began, a little eagerly. 

"And the others, " Hunterleys interrupted. "Don't look around for amoment. This is almost historical. "

Monsieur Ciro himself, bowing and smiling, was ushering a party ofguests to a round table upon the terrace, in the immediate vicinity ofthe two men. Mr. Grex, with his daughter and Lady Hunterleys on one sideand Monsieur Douaille on the other, were in the van. Draconmeyerfollowed with Lady Weybourne, and Selingman brought up the rear with theComtesse d'Hausson, one of the most prominent leaders of the Frenchcolony in Monte Carlo, and a connection by marriage of MonsieurDouaille. 

[Illustration: Mr. Grex, with his daughter and Lady Hunterleys on oneside and Monsieur Douaille on the other, were in the van. ]

"A luncheon-party for Douaille, " Hunterleys murmured, as he bowed, tohis wife and exchanged greetings with some of the others. "I wonder whatthey think of their neighbours! A little embarrassing for the chiefguest, I am afraid. "

"I see your wife is in the enemy's camp, " his companion observed. "Draconmeyer is coming to speak to me. This promises to be interesting. "

Draconmeyer and Selingman both came over to greet the English Minister. Selingman's blue eyes were twinkling with humour, his smile was broadand irresistible. 

"This should send funds up in every capital of Europe, " he declared, ashe shook hands. "When Mr. Meredith Simpson takes a holiday, then thepolitical barometer points to 'set fair'!"

"A tribute to my conscientiousness, " the Minister replied, smiling. "Iam glad to see that I am not the only hard-worked statesman who feelsable to take a few days' holiday. "

Selingman glanced at the round table and beamed. 

"It is true, " he admitted. "Every country seems to have sent itsstatesmen holiday-making. And what a playground, too!" he added, glancing towards Hunterleys with something which was almost a wink. "Here, political crises seem of little account by the side of theturning wheel. This is where the world unbends and it is well that thereshould be such a place. Shall we see you at the Club or in the roomslater?"

"Without a doubt, " Mr. Simpson assented. "For what else does one live inMonte Carlo?"

"How did you leave things in town?" Mr. Draconmeyer enquired. 

"So-so!" the Minister answered. "A little flat, but then it is a dullseason of the year. "

"Markets about the same, I suppose?" Mr. Draconmeyer asked. 

"I am afraid, " Mr. Simpson confessed, "that I only study the city columnfrom the point of view of what Herr Selingman has just called thepolitical barometer. Things were a little unsteady when I left. Consolsfell several points yesterday. "

Mr. Draconmeyer frowned. 

"It is incomprehensible, " he declared. "A few months ago there was realdanger, one is forced to believe, of a European war. To-day the crisisis passed, yet the money-markets which bore up so well through thecritical period seem now all the time on the point of collapse. It ishard for a banker to know how to operate these days. I wish yougentlemen in Downing Street, Mr. Simpson, would make it easier for us. "

Mr. Simpson shrugged his shoulders. 

"The real truth of the matter is, " he said, "that you allow yourmoney-market to become too sensitive an affair. A whisper will depressit. A threatening word spoken in the Reichstag or in the House ofParliament, magnified a hundred-fold before it reaches its destination, has sometimes a most unwarranted effect upon markets. You mustn't blameus so much, Mr. Draconmeyer. You jump at conclusions too easily in thecity. "

"Sound common sense, " Mr. Draconmeyer agreed. "You are perfectly rightwhen you say that we are over-sensitive. The banker deplores it as muchas the politician. It's the money-kings, I suppose, who find itprofitable. "

They returned to their table a moment later. As he passed Douaille, Selingman whispered in his ear. Monsieur Douaille turned around at onceand bowed to Simpson. As he caught the latter's eye he, too, left hisplace and came across. Mr. Simpson rose to his feet. The two men bowedformally before shaking hands. 

"Monsieur Simpson, " the Frenchman exclaimed, "it is a pleasure to findthat I am remembered!"

"Without a doubt, monsieur, " was the prompt reply. "Your last visit toLondon, on the occasion when we had the pleasure of entertaining you atthe Guildhall, is too recent, and was too memorable an event altogetherfor us to have forgotten. Permit me to assure you that your speech onthat occasion was one which no patriotic Englishman is likely toforget. "

Monsieur Douaille inclined his head in thanks. His manner was notaltogether free from embarrassment. 

"I trust that you are enjoying your holiday here?" he asked. 

"I have only this moment arrived, " Mr. Simpson explained. "I am lookingforward to a few days' rest immensely. I trust that I shall have thepleasure of seeing something of you, Monsieur Douaille. A littleconversation would be most agreeable. "

"In Monte Carlo one meets one's friends all the time, " Monsieur Douaillereplied. "I lunch to-day with my friend--our mutual friend, without adoubt--who calls himself here Mr. Grex. "

Mr. Simpson nodded. 

"If it is permitted, " he suggested, "I should like to do myself thehonour of paying my respects to you. "

Monsieur Douaille was flattered. 

"My stay here is short, " he regretted, "but your visit will be mostacceptable. I am at the Riviera Palace Hotel. "

"It is one of my theories, " Mr. Simpson remarked, "that politicians areat a serious disadvantage compared with business men, inasmuch as, withimportant affairs under their control, they have few opportunities ofmeeting those with whom they have dealings. It would be a great pleasureto me to discuss one or two matters with you. "

Monsieur Douaille departed, with a few charming words of assent. Simpsonlooked after him with kindling eyes. 

"This, " he murmured, leaning across the table, "is a most extraordinarymeeting. There they sit, those very men whom you suspect of thisdevilish scheme, within a few feet of us! Positively thrilling, Hunterleys!"

Hunterleys, too, seemed to feel the stimulating effect of a situation sodramatic. As the meal progressed, he drew his chair a little closer tothe table and leaned over towards his companion. 

"I think, " he said, "that we shall both of us remember the coincidenceof this meeting as long as we live. At that luncheon-table, within a fewyards of us, sits Russia, the new Russia, raising his head after athousand years' sleep, watching the times, weighing them, realising hisown immeasurable strength, pointing his inevitable finger along the roadwhich the Russia of to-morrow must tread. There isn't a man in thatgreat country so much to be feared to-day, from our point of view, asthe Grand Duke Augustus. And look, too, at the same table, within a fewfeet, Simpson, of you and of me--Selingman, Selingman who represents thereal Germany; not the war party alone, intoxicated with the clash ofarms, filled with bombastic desires for German triumphs on sea and land, ever ready to spout in flowery and grandiloquent phrases the glory ofGermany and the Heaven-sent genius of her leaders. I tell you, Simpson, Selingman is a more dangerous man than that. He sits with folded arms, in realms of thought above these people. He sits with a map of the worldbefore him, and he places his finger upon the inevitable spots whichGermany must possess to keep time with the march of the world, to findnew homes for her overflowing millions. He has no military fervour, notinselly patriotism. He knows what Germany needs and he will carve herway towards it. Look at him with his napkin tucked under his chin, broad-visaged, podgy, a slave, you might think, to the joys of the tableand the grosser things of life. You should see his eyes sometimes whenthe right note is struck, watch his mouth when he sits and thinks. Heuses words for an ambush and a barricade. He talks often like a gayfool, a flood of empty verbiage streams from his lips, and behind, allthe time his brain works. "

"You seem to have studied these people, Hunterleys, " Simpson remarkedappreciatively. 

Hunterleys smiled as he continued his luncheon. 

"Forgive me if I was a little prolix, " he said, "but, after all, whatwould you have? I am out of office but I remain a servant of my country. My interest is just as keen as though I were in a responsible position. "

"You are well out of it, " Simpson sighed. "If half what you suspect istrue, it's the worst fix we've been in for some time. "

"I am afraid there isn't any doubt about it, " Hunterleys declared. "Ofcourse, we've been at a fearful disadvantage. Roche was the only man outhere upon whom I could rely. Now they've accounted for him, we'vescarcely a chance of getting at the truth. "

Mr. Simpson was gloomily silent for some moments. He was thinking of thetime when he had struck his pencil through a recent Secret Serviceestimate. 

"Anyhow, " Hunterleys went on, "it will be all over in twenty-four hours. Something will be decided upon--what, I am afraid there is very littlechance of our getting to know. These men will separate--Grex to St. Petersburg, Selingman to Berlin, Douaille to Paris. Then I think weshall begin to hear the mutterings of the storm. "

"I think, " Mr. Simpson intervened, his eyes fixed upon an approachingfigure, "that there is a young lady talking to the maître d'hôtel, whois trying to attract your attention. "

Hunterleys turned around in his chair. It was Felicia who was making herway towards him. He rose at once to his feet. There was a little murmurof interest amongst the lunchers as she threaded her way past thetables. It was not often that an English singer in opera had met with sogreat a success. Lady Hunterleys, recognising her as she passed, pausedin the middle of a sentence. Her face hardened. Hunterleys had risenfrom his place and was watching Felicia's approach anxiously. 

"Is there any news of Sidney?" he asked quickly, as he took her hand. 

"Nothing fresh, " she answered in a low voice. "I have brought you amessage--from some one else. "

He held his chair for her but she shook her head. 

"I mustn't stay, " she continued. "This is what I wanted to tell you. AsI was crossing the square just now, I recognised the man Frenhofer, fromthe Villa Mimosa. Directly he saw me he came across the road. He waslooking for one of us. He dared not come to the villa, he declares, forfear of being watched. He has something to tell you. "

"Where can I find him?" Hunterleys asked. 

"He has gone to a little bar in the Rue de Chaussures, the Bar deMontmartre it is called. He is waiting there for you now. "

"You must stay and have some lunch, " Hunterleys begged. "I will comeback. "

She shook her head. 

"I have just been across to the Opera House, " she explained, "to enquireabout some properties for to-night. I have had all the lunch I want andI am on my way to the hospital now again. I came here on the chance offinding you. They told me at the Hotel de Paris that you were lunchingout. "

Hunterleys turned and whispered to Simpson. 

"This is very important, " he said. "It concerns the affair in which weare interested. Linger over your coffee and I will return. "

Mr. Simpson nodded and Hunterleys left the restaurant with Felicia. Hiswife, at whom he glanced for a moment, kept her head averted. She waswhispering in the ear of the gallant Monsieur Douaille. Selingman, catching Draconmeyer's eye, winked at him solemnly. 

"You have all the luck, my silent friend, " he murmured. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE FATES ARE KIND

The Bar de Montmartre was many steps under the level of the street, dark, smelly, and dilapidated. Its only occupants were a handful ofdrivers from the carriage-stand opposite, who stared at Hunterleys inamazement as he entered, and then rushed forward, almost in a body, tooffer their services. The man behind the bar, however, who had evidentlybeen forewarned, intervened with a few sharp words, and, lifting theflap of the counter, ushered Hunterleys into a little room beyond. Frenhofer was engaged there in amiable badinage with a young lady whopromptly disappeared at Hunterleys' entrance. Frenhofer bowedrespectfully. 

"I must apologise, " he said, "for bringing monsieur to such a place. Itis near the end now, and with Monsieur Roche in the hospital I venturedto address myself to monsieur direct. Here I have the right to enter. Imake my suit to the daughter of the proprietor in order to have a saferendezvous when necessary. It is well that monsieur has come quickly. Ihave tidings. I can disclose to monsieur the meeting-place for to-night. If monsieur has fortune and the wit to make use of it, the opportunity Ishall give him is a great one. But pardon me. Before we talk business wemust order something. "

He touched the bell. The proprietor himself thrust in his head, bullet-shaped, with black moustache and unshaven chin. He wore nocollar, and the remainder of his apparel was negligible. 

"A bottle of your best brandy, " Frenhofer ordered. "The best, mind, PèreHanaut. "

The man's acquiescence was as amiable as nature would permit. 

"Monsieur will excuse me, " Frenhofer went on, as the door was once moreclosed, "but these people have their little ways. To sell a whole bottleof brandy at five times its value, is to Monsieur le Propriétaire moreagreeable than to offer him rent for the hire of his room. He is outsideall the things in which we are concerned. He believes--pardon me, monsieur--that we are engaged in a little smuggling transaction. Monsieur Roche and I have used this place frequently. "

"He can believe what he likes, " Hunterleys replied, "so long as he keepshis mouth shut. "

The brandy was brought--and three glasses. Frenhofer promptly took thehint and, filling one to the brim, held it out to the landlord. 

"You will drink our health, Père Hanaut--my health and the health ofmonsieur here, and the health of the fair Annette. Incidentally, youwill drink also to the success of the little scheme which monsieur and Iare planning. "

"In such brandy, " the proprietor declared hoarsely, "I would drink tothe devil himself!"

He threw back his head and the contents of his glass vanished. He set itdown with a little smack of the lips. Once more he looked at the bottle. Frenhofer filled up his glass, but motioned to the door with his head. 

"You will excuse us, dear friend, " he begged, laying his handpersuasively upon the other's shoulder. "Monsieur and I have littleenough of time. "

The landlord withdrew. Frenhofer walked around the little apartment. Their privacy was certainly assured. 

"Monsieur, " he announced, turning to Hunterleys, "there has been a greatdiscussion as to the next meeting-place between our friends--the next, which will be also the last. They are safe enough in reality at thevilla, but Monsieur Douaille is nervous. The affair of last nightterrified him. The reason for these things I, of course, know nothingof, but it seems that Monsieur Douaille is very anxious indeed to keephis association with my august master and Herr Selingman as secret aspossible. He has declined most positively to set foot again within theVilla Mimosa. Many plans have been suggested. This is the one adopted. For some weeks a German down in Monaco, a shipping agent, has had ayacht in the harbour for hire. He has approached Mr. Grex several times, not knowing his identity; ignorant, indeed, of the fact that the GrandDuke himself possesses one of the finest yachts afloat. However, that isnothing. Mr. Grex thought suddenly of the yacht. He suggested it to theothers. They were enthusiastic. The yacht is to be hired for a week, orlonger if necessary, and used only to-night. Behold the wonderfulgood-fortune of the affair! It is I who have been selected by my masterto proceed to Monaco to make arrangements with the German, Herr Schwann. I am on my way there at the moment. "

"A yacht?" Hunterleys repeated. 

"There are wonderful things to be thought of, " Frenhofer assertedeagerly. "Consider, monsieur! The yacht of this man Schwann has neverbeen seen by my master. Consider, too, that aboard her there must be adozen hiding-places. The crew has been brought together from anywhere. They can be bought to a man. There is only one point, monsieur, whichshould be arranged before I enter upon this last and, for me, mosttroublesome and dangerous enterprise. "

"And that?" Hunterleys enquired. 

"My own position, " Frenhofer declared solemnly. "I am not greedy orcovetous. My ambitions have long been fixed. To serve an ImperialRussian nobleman has been no pleasure for me. St. Petersburg has been aprison. I have been moved to the right or to the left as a machine. Itis as a machine only I have lived. Always I have longed for Paris. Somonth by month I have saved. After to-night I must leave my master'semploy. The risk will be too great if monsieur indeed accepts myproposition and carries it out. I need but a matter of ten thousandfrancs to complete my savings. "

The man's white face shone eagerly in the dim light of the gloomy littleapartment. His eyes glittered. He waited almost breathlessly. 

"Frenhofer, " Hunterleys said slowly, "so far as I have been concernedindirectly in these negotiations with you, my instructions to my agenthave been simple and definite. We have never haggled. Your name wasknown to me eight years ago, when you served us in St. Petersburg andserved us well. You have done the same thing now and you have behavedwith rare intelligence. Within the course of an hour I shall transferten thousand francs to the account of François Frenhofer at the EnglishBank here. "

The eyes of the man seemed suddenly like pinpricks of fire. 

"Monsieur is a prince, " he murmured. "And now for the further details. If monsieur would run the risk, I would suggest that he accompanies meto the office of this man Schwann. "

Hunterleys made no immediate reply. He was walking up and down thenarrow apartment. A brilliant idea had taken possession of him. The morehe thought of it, the more feasible it became. 

"Frenhofer, " he said at last, "I have a scheme of my own. You are surethat Mr. Grex has never seen this yacht?"

"He has never set eyes upon it, monsieur, save to try and single it outwith his field-glasses from the balcony of the villa. "

"And he is to board it to-night?"

"At ten o'clock to-night, monsieur, it is to lie off the Villa Mimosa. Apinnace is to fetch Mr. Grex and his friends on board from the privatelanding-stage of the Villa Mimosa. "

Hunterleys nodded thoughtfully. 

"Frenhofer, " he explained, "my scheme is this. A friend of mine has ayacht in the harbour. I believe that he would lend it to me. Why shouldwe not substitute it for the yacht your master imagines that he ishiring? If so, all difficulties as to placing whom I desire on board andsecreting them are over. "

"It is a great scheme, " Frenhofer assented, "but supposing my mastershould choose to telephone some small detail to the office of the manSchwann?"

"You must hire the yacht of Schwann, just as you were instructed, "Hunterleys pointed out. "You must give orders, though, that it is not toleave the harbour until telephoned for. Then it will be the yacht whichI shall borrow which will lie off the Villa Mimosa to-night. "

"It is admirable, " Frenhofer declared. "The more one thinks of it, themore one appreciates. This yacht of Schwann's--the _Christable_, hecalls it--was fitted out by a millionaire. My master will be surprisedat nothing in the way of luxury. "

"Tell me again, " Hunterleys asked, "at what hour is it to be off theVilla Mimosa?"

"At ten o'clock, " Frenhofer replied. "A pinnace is to be at thelanding-stage of the villa at that time. Mr. Grex, Monsieur Douaille, Herr Selingman, and Mr. Draconmeyer will come on board. "

"Very good! Now go on your errand to the man Schwann. You had bettermeet me here later in the afternoon--say at four o'clock--and let meknow that all is in order. I will bring you some particulars about myfriend's boat, so that you will know how to answer any questions yourmaster may put to you. "

"It is admirable, " Frenhofer repeated enthusiastically. "Monsieur hadbetter, perhaps, precede me. "

Hunterleys walked through the streets back to Ciro's Restaurant, filledwith a new exhilaration. His eyes were bright, his brain was working allthe time. The luncheon-party at the next table were still in the midstof their meal. Mr. Simpson was smoking a meditative cigarette with hiscoffee. Hunterleys resumed his place and ordered coffee for himself. 

"I have been to see a poor friend who met with an accident last night, "he announced, speaking as clearly as possible. "I fear that he is veryill. That was his sister who fetched me away. "

Mr. Simpson nodded sympathetically. Their conversation for a few minuteswas desultory. Then Hunterleys asked for the bill and rose. 

"I will take you round to the Club and get your _carte_, " he suggested. "Afterwards, we can spend the afternoon as you choose. "

The two men strolled out of the place. It was not until after they hadleft the arcade and were actually in the street, that Hunterleys grippedhis companion's arm. 

"Simpson, " he declared, "the fates have been kind to us. Douaille has afit of the nerves. He will go no more to the Villa Mimosa. Seeking aboutfor the safest meeting-place, Grex has given us a chance. The only oneof his servants who belongs to us is commissioned to hire a yacht onwhich they meet to-night. "

"A yacht, " Mr. Simpson replied, emptily. 

"I have a friend, " Hunterleys continued, "an American. I am convincedthat he will lend me his yacht, which is lying in the harbour here. Weare going to try and exchange. If we succeed, I shall have the run ofthe boat. The crew will be at our command, and I shall get to thatconference myself, somehow or other. "

Mr. Simpson felt himself left behind. He could only stare at hiscompanion. 

"Tell me, Sir Henry, " he begged, almost pathetically, "have I walkedinto an artificial world? Do you mean to tell me seriously that you, aMember of Parliament, an ex-Minister, are engaged upon a scheme to getthe Grand Duke Augustus and Douaille and Selingman on board a yacht, andthat you are going to be there, concealed, turned into a spy? I can'tkeep up with it. As fiction it seems to me to be in the clouds. Astruth, why, my understanding turns and mocks me. You are talkingfairy-tales. "

Hunterleys smiled tolerantly. 

"The man in the street knows very little of the real happenings inlife, " he pronounced. "The truth has a queer way sometimes of spreadingitself out into the realms of fiction. Come across here with me to thehotel. I have got to move heaven and earth to find my friend. "

"Do with me as you like, " Mr. Simpson sighed resignedly. "In a plainpolitical discussion, or an argument with Monsieur Douaille--well, I amready to bear my part. But this sort of thing lifts me off my feet. Ican only trot along at your heels. "

They entered the Hotel de Paris. Hunterleys made a few breathlessenquiries. Nothing, alas! was known of Mr. Richard Lane. He came back, frowning, to the steps of the hotel. 

"If he is up playing golf at La Turbie, " Hunterleys muttered, "we shallbarely have time. "

A reception clerk tapped him on the shoulder. He turned abruptly around. 

"I have just made an enquiry of the floor waiter, " the clerk announced. "He believes that Mr. Lane is still in his room. "

Hunterleys thanked the man and hurried to the lift. In a few moments hewas knocking at the door of Lane's rooms. His heart gave a great jump asa familiar voice bade him enter. He stepped inside and closed the doorbehind him. Richard, in light blue pyjamas, sat up in bed and looked athis visitor with a huge yawn. 

"Say, old chap, are you in a hurry or anything?" he demanded. 

"Do you know the time?" Hunterleys asked. 

"No idea, " the other replied. "The valet called me at eight. I told himI'd shoot him if he disturbed me again. "

"It's nearly three o'clock!" Hunterleys declared impressively. 

"Can't help it, " Richard yawned, throwing off the bed-clothes andsitting on the edge of the bed. "I am young and delicate and I need myrest. Seriously, Hunterleys, " he added, "you take a chap out and makehim drive you at sixty miles an hour all through the night, you keep himat it till nearly six in the morning, and you seem to think it a tragedyto find him in bed at three o'clock in the afternoon. Hang it, I've onlyhad eight hours' sleep!"

"I don't care how long you've had, " Hunterleys rejoined. "I am only toothankful to find you. Now listen. Is your brain working? Can you talkseriously?"

"I guess so. "

"You remember our talk last night?"

"Every word of it. "

"The time has come, " Hunterleys continued, --"your time, I mean. You saidthat if you could take a hand, you'd do it. I am here to beg for yourhelp. "

"You needn't waste your breath doing that, " Richard answered firmly. "I'm your man. Go on. "

"Listen, " Hunterleys proceeded. "Is your yacht in commission?"

"Ready to sail at ten minutes' notice, " the young man assured himemphatically, "victualled and coaled to the eyelids. To tell you thetruth, I have some idea of abducting Fedora to-day or to-morrow. "

"You'll have to postpone that, " Hunterleys told him. "I want to borrowthe yacht. "

"She's yours, " Richard assented promptly. "I'll give you a note to thecaptain. "

"Look here, I want you to understand this clearly, " Hunterleys went on. "If you lend me the _Minnehaha_, well, you commit yourself a bit. Yousee, it's like this. I've one man of my own in Grex's household. He cameto me this morning. Monsieur Douaille objects to cross again thethreshold of the Villa Mimosa. He fears the English newspapers. Therehas been a long discussion as to the next meeting-place. Grex suggesteda yacht. To that they all agreed. There is a man named Schwann down inMonaco has a yacht for hire. Mr. Grex knows about it and he has sent theman I spoke of into Monaco this afternoon to hire it. They are all goingto embark at ten o'clock to-night. They are going to hold their meetingin the cabin. "

Lane whistled softly. He was wide awake now. 

"Go on, " he murmured. "Go on. Say, this is great!"

"I want, " Hunterleys explained, "your yacht to take the place of theother. I want it to be off the Villa Mimosa at ten o'clock to-night, your pinnace to be at the landing-stage of the villa to bring Mr. Grexand his friends on board. I want you to haul down your American flag, keep your American sailors out of sight, cover up the Stars and Stripesin your cabin, have only your foreign stewards on show. Schwann's yachtis a costly one. No one will know the difference. You must get up nowand show me over the boat. I have to scheme, somehow or other, how wecan hide ourselves on it so that I can overhear the end of this plot. "

The face of Richard Lane was like the face of an ingenuous boy who seessuddenly a Paradise of sport stretched out before him. His mouth wasopen, his eyes gleaming. 

"Gee, but this is glorious!" he exclaimed. "I'm with you all the way. Why, it's wonderful, man! It's a chapter from the Arabian Nights overagain!"

He leapt to his feet and rang the bell furiously. Then he rushed to thetelephone. 

"Blue serge clothes, " he ordered the valet. "Get my bath ready. "

"Any breakfast, monsieur?"

"Oh, breakfast be hanged! No, wait a moment. Get me some coffee and aroll. I'll take it while I dress. Hurry up!. .. Yes, is that the enquiryoffice? This is Mr. Lane. Send round to my chauffeur at the garage atonce and tell him that I want the car at the door in a quarter of anhour. Righto! . .. Sit down, Hunterleys. Smoke or do whatever you wantto. We'll be off to the yacht in no time. "

Hunterleys clapped the young giant on the shoulders as he rushed throughto the bathroom. 

"You're a brick, Richard, " he declared. "I'll wait for you down in thehall. I've a pal there. "

"I'll be down in twenty minutes or earlier, " Lane promised. "What alark!"

CHAPTER XXXIV

COFFEE FOR ONE ONLY

The breaking up of Mr. Grex's luncheon-party was the signal for acertain amount of man[oe]uvring on the part of one or two of his guests. Monsieur Douaille, for instance, was anxious to remain the escort ofLady Hunterleys, whose plans for the afternoon he had ascertained wereunformed. Mr. Grex was anxious to keep apart his daughter and LadyWeybourne, whose relationship to Richard Lane he had only justapprehended; while he himself desired a little quiet conversation withMonsieur Douaille before they paid the visit which had been arranged forto the Club and the Casino. In the end, Mr. Grex was both successful andunsuccessful. He carried off Monsieur Douaille for a short ride in hisautomobile, but was forced to leave his daughter and Lady Weybournealone. Draconmeyer, who had been awaiting his opportunity, remained byLady Hunterleys' side. 

"I wonder, " he asked, "whether you would step in for a few minutes andsee Linda?"

She had been looking at the table where her husband and his companionhad been seated. Draconmeyer's voice seemed to bring her back to apresent not altogether agreeable. 

"I am going back to my room for a little time, " she replied. "I willcall in and see Linda first, if you like. "

They left the restaurant together and strolled across the Square to theHotel de Paris, ascended in the lift, and made their way toDraconmeyer's suite of rooms in a silence which was almost unbroken. When they entered the large salon with its French-windows and balcony, they found the apartment deserted. Violet looked questioningly at hercompanion. He closed the door behind him and nodded. 

"Yes, " he admitted, "my message was a subterfuge. I have sent Linda overto Mentone with her nurse. She will not be back until late in theafternoon. This is the opportunity for which I have been waiting. "

She showed no signs of anger or, indeed, disturbance of any sort. Shelaid her tiny white silk parasol upon the table and glanced at himcoolly. 

"Well, " she said, "you have your way, then. I am here. "

Draconmeyer looked at her long and anxiously. Skilled though he was inphysiognomy, closely though he had watched, for many months, the lightsand shades, the emotional changes in her expression, he was yet, at thatmoment, completely puzzled. She was not angry. Her attitude seemed tobe, in a sense, passive. Yet what did passivity mean? Was itresignation, consent, or was it simply the armour of normal resistancein which she had clothed herself? Was he wise, after all, to riskeverything? Then, as he looked at her, as he realised her close andwonderful presence, he suddenly told himself that it was worth whilerisking even Heaven in the future for the joy of holding her for once inhis arms. She had never seemed to him so maddeningly beautiful as atthat moment. It was one of the hottest days of the season and she waswearing a gown of white muslin, curiously simple, enhancing, somehow orother, her fascinating slimness, a slimness which had nothing to do withangularity but possessed its own soft and graceful curves. Her eyes werebluer even than her turquoise brooch or the gentians in her hat. Andwhile his heart was aching and throbbing with doubts and hopes, shesuddenly smiled at him. 

"I am going to sit down, " she announced carelessly. "Please say to mejust what is in your mind, without reserve. It will be better. "

She threw herself into a low chair near the window. Her hands werefolded in her lap. Her eyes, for some reason, were fixed upon herwedding ring. Swift to notice even her slightest action, he frowned ashe discerned the direction of her gaze. 

"Violet, " he said, "I think that you are right. I think that the timehas come when I must tell you what is in my mind. "

She raised her eyebrows slightly at the sound of her Christian name. Hemoved over and stood by her chair. 

"For a good many years, " he began slowly, "I have been a man with apurpose. When it first came into my mind--not willingly--itsaccomplishment seemed utterly hopeless. Still, it was there. Strong manthough I am, I could not root it out. I waited. There was nothing elseto do but wait. From that moment my life was divided. My whole-souldevotion to worldly affairs was severed. I had one dream that was morewonderful to me, even, than complete success in the great undertakingwhich brought me to London. That dream was connected with you, Violet. "

She moved a little uneasily, as though the repetition of her Christianname grated. This time, however, he was rapt in his subject. 

"I won't make excuses, " he went on. "You know what Linda is--what shehas been for ten years. I have tried to be kind to her. As to love, Inever had any. Ours was an alliance between two great monied families, arranged for us, acquiesced in by both of us as a matter of course. Itseemed to me in those days the most natural and satisfactory form ofmarriage. I looked upon myself as others have thought me--a cold, bloodless man of figures and ambition. It is you who have taught me thatI have as much sentiment and more than other men, a heart and desireswhich have made life sometimes hell and sometimes paradise. For twoyears I have struggled. Life with me has been a sort of passionatecompromise. For the joy of seeing you sometimes, of listening to you andwatching you, I have borne the agony of having you leave me to take yourplace with another man. You don't quite know what that meant, and I amnot going to tell you, but always I have hoped and hoped. "

"And now, " she said, looking at him, "I owe you four thousand pounds andyou think, perhaps, that your time has come to speak?"

He shivered as though she had struck him a blow. 

"You think, " he exclaimed, "that I am a man of pounds, shillings, andpence! Is it my fault that you owe me money?"

He snatched her cheques from his inner pocket and ripped them in pieces, lit a match and watched them while they smouldered away. She, too, watched with emotionless face. 

"Do you think that I want to buy you?" he demanded. "There! You are freefrom your money claims. You can leave my room this moment, if you will, and owe me nothing. "

She made no movement, yet he was vaguely disturbed by a sense of havingmade but little progress, a terrible sense of impending failure. Hisfingers began to tremble, his face was the face of a man stretched uponthe rack. 

"Perhaps those words of mine were false, " he went on. "Perhaps, in asense, I do want to buy you, buy the little kindnesses that go withaffection, buy your kind words, the touch sometimes of your fingers, thepleasant sense of companionship I feel when I am with you. I know howproud you are. I know how virtuous you are. I know that it's there inyour blood, the Puritan instinct, the craving for the one man to whomyou have given yourself, the involuntary shrinking from the touch of anyother. Good women are like that--wives or mistresses. Mind, in a senseit's narrow; in a sense it's splendid. Listen to me. I don't want todeclare war against that instinct--yet. I can't. Perhaps, even now, Ihave spoken too soon, craved too soon for the little I do ask. Yet Godknows I can keep the seal upon my lips no longer! Don't let usmisunderstand one another for the sake of using plain words. I am notasking you to be my mistress. I ask you, on my knees, to take from mewhat makes life brighter for you. I ask you for the other thingsonly--for your confidence, for your affection, your companionship. I askto see you every day that it is possible, to know that you are wearingmy gifts, surrounded by my flowers, the rough places in your life madesmooth by my efforts. I am your suppliant, Violet. I ask only for thecrumbs that fall from your table, so long as no other man sits by yourside. Violet, can't you give me as much as this?"

His hand, hot and trembling, sought hers, touched and gripped it. Shedrew her fingers away. It was curious how in those few moments sheseemed to be gifted with an immense clear-sightedness. She knew verywell that nothing about the man was honest save the passion of which hedid not speak. She rose to her feet. 

"Well, " she said, "I have listened to you very patiently. If I owe youany excuse for having appeared to encourage any one of those thoughts ofwhich you speak, here it is. I am like thousands of other women. Iabsolutely don't know until the time comes what sort of a creature I am, how I shall be moved to act under certain circumstances. I tried tothink last night. I couldn't. I felt that I had gone half-way. I hadtaken your money. I had taken it, too, understanding what it means to bein a man's debt. And still I waited. And now I know. I won't evenquestion your sincerity. I won't even suggest that you would not becontent with what you ask for--"

"I have sworn it!" he interrupted hoarsely. "To be your favoured friend, to be allowed near you--your guardian, if you will--"

The words failed him. Something in her face checked his eloquence. 

"I can tell you this now and for always, " she continued. "I have nothingto give you. What you ask for is just as impossible as though you wereto walk in your picture gallery and kneel before your great masterpieceand beg Beatrice herself to step down from the canvas. I began to wonderyesterday, " she went on, rising abruptly and moving across the room, "whether I really was that sort of woman. With your money in my pocketand the gambling fever in my pulses, I began even to believe it. And nowI know that I am not. Good-bye, Mr. Draconmeyer. I don't blame you. Onthe whole, perhaps, you have behaved quite well. I think that you havechosen to behave well because that wonderful brain of yours told youthat it gave you the best chance. That doesn't really matter, though. "

He took a quick, almost a threatening step towards her. His face wasdark with all the passions which had preyed upon the man. 

"There is a man's last resource, " he muttered thickly. 

"And there is a woman's answer to it, " she replied, her finger suddenlyresting upon an unsuspected bell in the wall. 

They both heard its summons. Footsteps came hurrying along the corridor. Draconmeyer turned his head away, struggling to compose himself. Awaiter entered. Lady Hunterleys picked up her parasol and moved towardsthe door. The man stood on one side with a bow. 

"Here is the waiter you rang for, Mr. Draconmeyer, " she remarked, looking over his shoulder. "Wasn't it coffee you wanted? Tell Linda I'llhope to see her sometime this evening. "

She strolled away. The waiter remained patiently upon the threshold. 

"Coffee for one or two, sir?" he enquired. 

Mr. Draconmeyer struggled for a moment against a torrent of words whichscorched his lips. In the end, however, he triumphed. 

"For one, with cream, " he ordered. 

CHAPTER XXXV

A NEW MAP OF THE EARTH

Selingman, who was leaning back in a leather-padded chair and smoking avery excellent cigar, looked around at his companions with a smile ofcomplete approval. 

"Our host, " he declared, bowing to Mr. Grex, "has surpassed himself. Fora hired yacht I have seen nothing more magnificent. A Cabinet Moselle, Flor de Cuba cigars, the best of company, and an isolation beyond allquestion. What place could suit us better?"

There was a little murmur of assent. The four men were seated togetherin the wonderfully decorated saloon of what was, beyond doubt, a mostluxurious yacht. Through the open porthole were visible, every fewmoments, as the yacht rose and sank on the swell, the long line oflights which fringed the shore between Monte Carlo and Mentone; themountains beyond, with tiny lights flickering like spangles in a blackmantle of darkness; and further round still, the stream of light fromthe Casino, reflected far and wide upon the black waters. 

"None, " Mr. Grex asserted confidently. "We are at least beyond reach ofthese bungling English spies. There is no further fear of eavesdroppers. We are entirely alone. Each may speak his own mind. There is nothing tobe feared in the way of interruption. I trust, Monsieur Douaille, thatyou appreciate the altered circumstances. "

Monsieur Douaille, who was looking very much more at his ease, assentedwithout hesitation. 

"I must confess, " he agreed, "that the isolation we now enjoy is, to acertain extent, reassuring. Here we need no longer whisper. One maylisten carefully. One may weigh well what is said. Sooner or later wemust come to the crucial point. This, if you like, is a game ofmake-believe. Then, in make-believe, Germany has offered to restoreAlsace and Lorraine, has offered to hold all French territory as sacred, provided France allows her to occupy Calais for one year. What is yourobject, Herr Selingman? Do you indeed wish to invade England?"

Selingman poured himself out a glass of wine from the bottle which stoodat his elbow. 

"Good!" he said. "We have come to plain questions. I answer in plainspeech. I will tell you now, in a few words, all that remains to betold. Germany has no desire to invade Great Britain. If one may believethe newspapers, there is scarcely an Englishman alive who would creditthis simple fact, but it is nevertheless true. Commercially, England, and a certain measure of English prosperity, are necessary to Germany. Geographically, there are certain risks to be run in an invasion of thatcountry, which we do not consider worth while. Besides, an invasion, even a successful one, would result in making an everlasting and abitter enemy of Great Britain. We learnt our lesson when we tookterritory from France. We do not need to repeat it. Several hundredthousands of our most worthy citizens are finding an honest andprosperous living in London. Several thousands of our merchants are inbusiness there, and prospering. Several hundreds of our shrewdest men ofaffairs are making fortunes upon the London Stock Exchange. Therefore, we do not wish to conquer England. Commercially, that conquest isalready affected. I want you, Monsieur Douaille, to absolutelyunderstand this, because it may affect your views. What we do require isto strike a long and lasting blow at the navy of Great Britain. As asomewhat larger Holland, Great Britain is welcome to a peacefulexistence. When she lords it over the world, talks of an Empire uponwhich the sun never sets, then the time arrives when we are forced tointerfere. Great Britain has possessions which she is not strong enoughto hold. Germany is strong enough to wrest them from her, and means todo so. The English fleet must be destroyed. South Africa, then, willcome to Germany, India to Russia, Egypt to France. The rest follows as amatter of course. "

"And what is the rest?" Monsieur Douaille asked. 

Herr Selingman was content no longer to sit in his place. He rose to hisfeet. His face had fallen into different lines. His eyes flashed, hiswords were inspired. 

"The rest, " he declared, "is the crux of the whole matter. It is the onegreat and settled goal towards which we who have understood have schemedand fought our way. With the British Navy destroyed, the Monroe Doctrineis not worth a sheet of writing-paper. South America is Germany'snatural heritage, by every right worth considering. It is our people'sgold which founded the Argentine Republic, the brains of our peoplewhich control its destinies. Our Eldorado is there, Monsieur Douaille. That is the country which, sooner or later, Germany must possess. Welook nowhere else. We covet no other of our neighbours' possessions. Only I say that the sooner America makes up her mind to the sacrifice, the better. Her Monroe Doctrine is all very well for the NorthernStates. When she presumes to quote it as a pretext for keeping Germanyfrom her natural place in South America, she crosses swords with us. Nowyou know the truth, and the whole truth. You know, Monsieur Douaille, what we require from you, and you know your reward. Our host has alreadytold you, and will tell you again as often as you like, the feeling ofhis own country. The Franco-Russian alliance is already doomed. It fallsto pieces through sheer lack of common interests. The entente cordialeis simply a fetter and a dead weight upon you. Monsieur Douaille, I putit to you as a man of common sense. Do you think that you, as astatesman--you see, I will put the burden upon your shoulders, because, if you choose, you can speak for your country--do you think that youhave a right to refuse from Germany the return of Alsace and Lorraine?Do you think that you can look your country in the face if you refuse onher behalf the greatest gift which has ever yet been offered to anynation--the gift of Egypt? The old alliances are out of date. Thebalance of power has shifted. I ask you, Monsieur Douaille, as you valuethe prosperity and welfare of your country, to weigh what I have saidand what our great Russian friend has said, word by word. England hasmade no sacrifices for you. Why should you sacrifice yourself for her?"

Monsieur Douaille stroked his little grey imperial. 

"That is well enough, " he muttered, "but without the English Navy thebalance of power upon the Continent is entirely upset. "

"The balance of power only according to the present grouping ofinterests, " Mr. Grex pointed out. "Selingman has shown us how these mustchange. Frankly, although no one can fail to realise the immenseimportance of South America as a colonising centre, it is my honestopinion that the nation who scores most by my friend Selingman's plans, is not Germany but France. Think what it means to her. Instead of beinga secondary Power, she will of her own might absolutely control theMediterranean. Egypt, with its vast possibilities, its ever-elasticboundary, falls to her hand. Malta and Cyprus follow. It is a greatprice that Germany is prepared to pay. "

Monsieur Douaille was silent for several moments. It was obvious that hewas deeply impressed. 

"This is a matter, " he said, "which must be considered from many pointsof view. Supposing that France were willing to bury the hatchet withGermany, to remain neutral or to place Calais at Germany's disposal. Even then, do you suppose, Herr Selingman, that it would be an easymatter to destroy the British Navy?"

"We have our plans, " Selingman declared solemnly. "We know very wellthat they can be carried out only at a great loss both of men and ships. It is a gloomy and terrible task that lies before us, but at the otherend of it is the glory that never fades. "

"If America, " Douaille remarked, "were to have an inkling of your realobjective, her own fleet would come to the rescue. "

"Why should America know of our ultimate aims?" Selingman rejoined. "Herpoliticians to-day choose to play the part of the ostrich in the desert. They take no account, or profess to take no account of Europeanhappenings. They have no Secret Service. Their country is governed fromwithin for herself only. As for the rest, the bogey of a German invasionhas been flaunted so long in England that few people stop to realise theabsolute futility of such a course. London is already colonised byGermans--colonised, that is to say, in urban and money-making fashion. English gold is flowing in a never-ending stream into our country. Itwould be the most foolish dream an ambitious statesman could conceive tolay violent hands upon a land teeming with one's own children. Germanysees further than this. There are richer prizes across the Atlantic, richer prizes from every point of view. "

"You mentioned South Africa, " Monsieur Douaille murmured. 

Selingman shrugged his shoulders. 

"South Africa will make no nation rich, " he replied. "Her own people aretoo stubborn and powerful, too rooted to the soil. "

Monsieur Douaille for the first time stretched out his hand and dranksome of the wine which stood by his side. His cheeks were very pale. Hehad the appearance of a man tortured by conflicting thoughts. 

"I should like to ask you, Selingman, " he said, "whether you have madeany definite plans for your conflict with the British Navy? I admit thatthe days of England's unique greatness are over. She may not be in aposition to-day, as she has been in former years, to fight the world. Atthe same time, her one indomitable power is still, whatever people maysay or think, her navy. Only last month the Cabinet of my country wereconsidering reports from their secret agents and placing them side byside with known facts, as to the relative strength of your navy and thenavy of Great Britain. On paper it would seem that a German success wasimpossible. "

Selingman smiled--the convincing smile of a man who sees further thanmost men. 

"Not under the terms I should propose to you, Monsieur Douaille, " hedeclared. "Remember that we should hold Calais, and we should be assuredat least of the amiable neutrality of your fleet. We have spoken ofmatters so intimate that I do not know whether in this absolute privacyI should not be justified in going further and disclosing to you ourwhole scheme for an attack upon the English Navy. It would need only anexpression of your sympathy with those views which we have discussed, toinduce me to do so. "

Monsieur Douaille hesitated for several moments before he replied. 

"I am a citizen of France, " he said, "an envoy without powers to treat. My own province is to listen. "

"But your personal sympathies?" Selingman persisted. 

"I have sometimes thought, " Monsieur Douaille confessed, "that thepresent grouping of European Powers must gradually change. If yourcountry, for instance, " he added, turning to Mr. Grex, "indeed embracesthe proposals of Herr Selingman, France must of necessity be driven toreconsider her position towards England. The Anglo-Saxon race may haveto battle then for her very existence. Yet it is always to be rememberedthat in the background are the United States of America, possessingresources and wealth greater than any other country in the universe. "

"And it must also be remembered, " Selingman proclaimed, in a tone ofponderous conviction, "that she possesses no adequate means of guardingthem, that she is not a military nation, that she has not the strengthto enforce the carrying out of the Monroe Doctrine. Things were all verywell for her before the days of wireless telegraphy, of aeroplanes andairships, of super-dreadnoughts, and cruisers with the speed of expresstrains. She was too far away to be concerned in European turmoils. To-day science is annihilating distance. America, leaving out of accountaltogether her military impotence, would need a fleet three times herpresent strength to enforce the Monroe Doctrine for the remainder--notof this century but of this decade. "

Then the bombshell fell. A strange voice suddenly intervened, a voicewhose American accent seemed more marked than usual. The four men turnedtheir heads. Selingman sprang to his feet. Mr. Grex's face was marble inits whiteness. Monsieur Douaille, with a nervous sweep of his right arm, sent his glass crashing to the floor. They all looked in the samedirection, up to the little music gallery. Leaning over in a carelessattitude, with his arms folded upon the rail, was Richard Lane. 

"Say, " he begged, "can I take a hand in this little discussion?"

CHAPTER XXXVI

CHECKMATE!

Of the four men, Selingman was the first to recover himself. 

"Who the hell are you, and how did you get up there?" he roared. 

"I am Richard Lane, " the young man explained affably, "and there's a wayup from the music-room. You probably didn't notice it. And there's a waydown, as you may perceive, " he added, pointing to the spiral staircase. "I'll join you, if I may. "

There was a dead silence as for a moment Richard disappeared and wasseen immediately afterwards descending the round staircase. Mr. Grextouched Selingman on the arm and whispered in his ear. Selingman nodded. There were evil things in the faces of both men as Lane approached them. 

"Will you kindly explain your presence here at once, sir?" Mr. Grexordered. 

"I say!" Richard protested. "A joke's a joke, but when you ask a man toexplain his presence on his own boat, you're coming it just a littlethick, eh? To tell you the truth, I had some sort of an idea of askingyou the same question. "

"What do you mean--your own boat?" Draconmeyer demanded. 

He was, perhaps, the first to realise the situation. Richard thrust hishands into his pockets and sat upon the edge of the table. 

"Seems to me, " he remarked, "that you gentlemen have made some sort of amistake. Where do you think you are, anyway?"

"On board Schwann's yacht, the _Christabel_, " Selingman replied. 

Richard shook his head. 

"Not a bit of it, " he assured them. "This is the steam-yacht, _Minnehaha_, which brought me over from New York, and of which I am mostassuredly the owner. Now I come to think of it, " he went on, "there wasanother yacht leaving the harbour at the same time. Can't have happenedthat you boarded the wrong boat, eh?"

Mr. Grex was icily calm, but there was menace of the most dangerous sortin his look and manner. 

"Nothing of that sort was possible, " he declared, "as you are, withoutdoubt, perfectly well aware. It appears to me that this is a deliberateplot. The yacht which I and my friends thought that we were boardingto-night was the _Christabel_, which my servant had instructions to hirefrom Schwann of Monaco. I await some explanation from you, sir, as toyour purpose in sending your pinnace to the landing-stage of the VillaMimosa and deliberately misleading us as to our destination?"

"Well, I don't know that I've got much to say about that, " Richardreplied easily. 

"You are offering us no explanation?" Selingman demanded. 

"None, " Richard assented coolly. 

Selingman suddenly struck the table with his clenched fist. 

"You were not alone up in that gallery!"

"Getting warm, aren't you?" Richard murmured. 

Selingman turned to Grex. 

"This young man is Hunterleys' friend. They've fixed this up betweenthem. Listen!"

A door slammed above their heads. Some one had left the music gallery. 

"Hunterleys himself!" Selingman cried. 

"Sure!" Richard assented. "Bright fellow, Selingman, " he continuedamiably. "I wouldn't try that on, if I were you, " he added, turning toMr. Grex, whose hand was slowly stealing from the back of his coat. "That sort of thing doesn't do, nowadays. Revolvers belong to the lastdecade of intrigue. You're a bit out of date with that little weapon. Don't be foolish. I am not angry with any of you. I am willing to takethis little joke pleasantly, but----"

He raised a whistle to his lips and blew it. The door at the further endof the saloon was opened as though by magic. A steward in the yacht'suniform appeared. From outside was visible a very formidable line ofsailors. Grex, with a swift gesture, slipped something back into hispocket, something which glittered like silver. 

"Serve some champagne, Reynolds, " Richard ordered the steward who hadcome hurrying in, "and bring some cigars. "

The man withdrew. Richard seated himself once more upon the table, clasping one knee. 

"Look here, " he said, "I'll be frank with you. I came into this littleaffair for the sake of a pal. It was only by accident that I found myway up yonder--more to look after him than anything. I never imaginedthat you would have anything to say that was interesting to me. Seems Iwas wrong, though. You've got things very nicely worked out, Mr. Selingman. "

Selingman glared at the young man but said nothing. The others, too, were all remarkably bereft of words. 

"Don't mind my staying for a little chat, do you?" Richard continuedpleasantly. "You see, I am an American and I am kind of interested inthe latter portion of what you had to say. I dare say you're quite rightin some respects. We are a trifle too commercial and a trifle toococksure. You see, things have always gone our way. All the same, we'vegot the stuff, you know. Just consider this. If I thought there was anyreal need for it, and I begin to think that perhaps there may be, Ishould be ready to present the United States with a Dreadnoughtto-morrow, and I don't know that I should need to spend very much lessmyself. And, " he went on, "there are thirty or forty others who couldand would do the same. Tidy little fleet we should soon have, you see, without a penny of taxation. Of course, I know we would need the men, but we've a grand reserve to draw upon in the West. They are notbothering about the navy in times of peace, but they'd stream into itfast enough if there were any real need. "

The chief steward appeared, followed by two or three of hissubordinates. A tray of wine was placed upon the table. Bottles wereopened, but no one made any attempt to drink. Richard filled his ownglass and motioned the men to withdraw. 

"Prefer your own wine?" he remarked. "Well, now, that's too bad. HopeI'm not boring you?"

No one spoke or moved. Richard settled himself a little more comfortablyupon the table. 

"I can't tell you all, " he proceeded, "how interested I have been, listening up there. Quite a gift of putting things clearly, if I may beallowed to say so, you seem to possess, Mr. Selingman. Now here's myreply as one of the poor Anglo-Saxons from the West who've got to makeroom in the best parts of the world for your lubberly German colonists. If you make a move in the game you've been talking so glibly about, ifmy word counts for anything, if my persuasions count for anything--andI've facts to go on, you know--you'll have the American fleet to dealwith at the same time as the English, and I fancy that will be a triflemore than you can chew up, eh? I'm going back to America a littleearlier than I anticipated. Of course, they'll laugh at me at first inWashington. They don't believe much in these round-table conferences andEuropean plots. But all the same I've got some friends there. We'll tryand remember this amiable little statement of policy of yours, Mr. Selingman. Nothing like being warned, you know. "

Mr. Grex rose from his place. 

"Sir, " he said, "since we have been and are your unwilling guests, willyou be so good as to arrange for us at once to relieve you of ourpresence?"

"Well, I'm not so sure about that, " Richard remarked, meditatively. "Ithink I'd contribute a good deal to the comfort and happiness of thisgeneration if I took you all out to sea and dropped you overboard, oneby one. "

"As I presume you have no such intention, " Mr. Grex persisted, "I repeatthat we should be glad to be allowed to land. "

Richard abandoned his indolent posture and stood facing them. 

"You came on board, gentlemen, without my invitation, " he reminded them. "You will leave my ship when I choose--and that, " he added, "is not justat present. "

"Do you mean that we are to consider ourselves your prisoners?"Draconmeyer asked, with an acid smile. 

"Certainly not--my guests, " Richard replied, with a bow. "I can assureyou that it will only be a matter of a few hours. "

Monsieur Douaille hammered the table with his fist. 

"Young man, " he exclaimed, "I leave with you! I insist upon it that I ampermitted to leave. I am not a party to this conference. I am merely aguest, a listener, here wholly in my private capacity. I will not beassociated with whatever political scandal may arise from this affair. Idemand permission to leave at once. "

"Seems to me there's something in what you say, " Richard admitted. "Verywell, you can come along. I dare say Hunterleys will be glad to have achat with you. As for the rest of you, " he concluded, as MonsieurDouaille rose promptly to his feet, "I have a little business to arrangeon land which I think I could manage better whilst you are at sea. Ishall therefore, gentlemen, wish you good evening. Pray consider myyacht entirely at your disposal. My stewards will be only too happy toexecute any orders--supper, breakfast, or dinner. You have merely to saythe word. "

He turned towards the door, closely followed by Douaille, who, in astate of great excitement, refused to listen to Selingman's entreaties. 

"No, no!" the former objected, shaking his head. "I will not stay. Iwill not be associated with this meeting. You are bunglers, all of you. I came only to listen, on your solemn assurance of entire secrecy. Weare spied upon at the Villa Mimosa, we are made fools of on board thisyacht. No more unofficial meetings for me!"

"Quite right, old fellow, " Richard declared, as they passed out and onto the deck. "Set of wrong 'uns, those chaps, even though Mr. Grex is aGrand Duke. You know Sir Henry Hunterleys, don't you?"

Hunterleys came forward from the gangway, at the foot of which thepinnace was waiting. 

"We are taking Monsieur Douaille ashore, " Richard explained, as the twomen shook hands. "He really doesn't belong to that gang and he wants tocut adrift. You understand my orders exactly, captain?" he asked, asthey stepped down the iron gangway. 

"Perfectly, sir, " was the prompt reply. "You may rely upon me. I amafraid they are beginning to make a noise downstairs already!"

The little pinnace shot out a stream of light across the dark, placidsea. Douaille was talking earnestly to Hunterleys. 

"Pleasantest few minutes I ever spent in my life, " Richard murmured, ashe took out his cigarette case. 

CHAPTER XXXVII

AN AMAZING ELOPEMENT

The sun was shining brilliantly and the sky was cloudless as Richardturned his automobile into the grounds of the Villa Mimosa, soon afternine o'clock on the following morning. The yellow-blossomed trees, slightly stirred by the west wind, formed a golden arch across thewinding avenue. The air was sweet, almost faint with perfume. On theterrace, holding a pair of field-glasses in her hand and gazing intentlyout to sea, was Fedora. At the sound of the motor-horn she turnedquickly. She looked at the visitor in surprise. A shade of pink was inher face. Lane brought the car to a standstill, jumped out and climbedthe steps of the terrace. 

"What has brought you here?" she asked, in surprise. 

"I have just come to pay you a little visit, " he remarked easily. "I wasonly afraid you mightn't be up so early. "

She bit her lip. 

"You have no right to come here at all, " she said severely, "and topresent yourself at this hour is unheard of. "

"I came early entirely out of consideration for your father, " he assuredher. 

She frowned. 

"My father?" she repeated. "Please explain at once what you mean. Myfather is on that yacht and I cannot imagine why he does not return. "

"I can tell you, " he answered, standing by her side and looking outseawards. "They are waiting for my orders before they let him off. "

She turned her head and looked at him incredulously. 

"Explain yourself, please, " she insisted. 

"With pleasure, " he assented. "You see, I just had to make sure of beingallowed to have a few minutes' conversation with you, free from anyinterruption. Somehow or other, " he added thoughtfully, "I don't believeyour father likes me. "

"I do not think, " she replied coldly, "that my father has any feelingsabout you at all, except that he thinks you are abominablypresumptuous. "

"Because I want to marry you?"

She stamped with her foot upon the ground. 

"Please do not say such absurd things! Explain to me at once what youmean by saying that my father is being kept there by your orders. "

"I'll try, " Lane answered. "He boarded that yacht last night in mistake. He thought that it was a hired one, but it isn't. It's mine. I found himthere last night, entertaining a little party of his friends in thesaloon. They seemed quite comfortable, so I begged them to remain on asmy guests for a short time. "

"To remain?" she murmured, bewildered. "For how long?"

"Until you've just read this through and thought it over. "

He passed her a document which he had drawn from his pocket. She took itfrom him wonderingly. When she had read a few lines, the colour camestreaming into her cheeks. She threw it to the ground. He picked it upand replaced it in his pocket. 

"But it is preposterous!" she cried. "That is a marriage license!"

"That's precisely what it is, " he admitted. "I thought we'd be marriedat Nice. My sister is waiting to go along with us. I said we'd pick herup at the Hotel de Paris. "

Severe critics of her undoubted beauty had ventured at times to say thatFedora's face lacked expression. There was, at that moment, no room forany such criticism. Amazement struggled with indignation in her eyes. Her lips were quivering, her breath was coming quickly. 

"Do you mean--have you given her or any one to understand that there wasany likelihood of my consenting to such an absurd scheme?"

"I only told her what I hoped, " he said quietly. "That is all I daredsay even to myself. But I want you to listen to me. "

His voice had grown softer. She turned her head and looked at him. Hewas much taller than she was, and in his grey tweed suit, his head alittle thrown back, his straw hat clasped in his hands behind him, hisclear grey eyes full of serious purpose, he was certainly not anunattractive figure to look upon. Unconsciously she found herselfcomparing him once more with the men of her world, found herselfrealising, even against her will, the charm of his naïve and doggedhonesty, his youth, his tenacity of purpose. She had never been madelove to like this before. 

"Please listen, " he begged. "I am afraid that your father must be in atearing rage by now, but it can't be helped. He is out there and hehasn't got an earthly chance of getting back until I give the word. We've got plenty of time to reach Nice before he can land. I just wantyou to realise, Fedora, that you are your own mistress. You can make orspoil your own life. No one else has any right to interfere. Have youever seen any one yet, back in your own country, amongst your ownpeople, whom you really felt that you cared for--who you really believedwould be willing to lay down his life to make you happy?"

"No, " she confessed simply, "I do not know that I have. Our men are notlike that. "

"It is because, " he went on, "there is no one back there who cares as Ido. I have spent some years of my life looking--quite unconsciously, butlooking all the same--for some one like you. Now I have found you I amglad I have waited. There couldn't be any one else. There never couldbe, Fedora. I love you just in the way a man does love once in his life, if he's lucky. It's a queer sort of feeling, you know, " he continued, leaning a little towards her. "It makes me quite sure that I could makeyou happy. It makes me quite sure that if you'll give me your hand andtrust me, and leave everything to me, you'll have just the things inlife that women want. Won't you be brave, Fedora? There are some thingsto break through, I know, but they don't amount to much--they don't, really. And I love you, you know. You can't imagine yet what a wonderfuldifference that makes. You'll find out and you'll be glad. "

She stood quite still. Her eyes were still fixed seawards, but she waslooking beyond the yacht, now, to the dim line where sky and sea seemedto meet. The vision of her past days seemed to be drawn out before her, a little monotonous, a little wearisome even in their splendour, morethan a little empty. And underneath it all she was listening to the newmusic, and her heart was telling her the truth. 

"You don't need to make any plans, " he said softly. "Go and put on yourhat and something to wear motoring. Bring a dressing-bag, if you like. Flossie is waiting for us and she is rather a dear. You can leaveeverything else to me. "

She looked timidly into his eyes. A new feeling was upon her. She gavehim her hand almost shyly. Her voice trembled. 

"If I come, " she whispered, "you are quite sure that you mean it all?You are quite sure that you will not change?"

He raised her hand to his lips. 

"Not in this world, dear, " he answered, with sublime confidence, "norany other!"

She stole away from him. He was left alone upon the terrace, alone, butwith the exquisite conviction of her return, promised in that lasthalf-tremulous, half-smiling look over her shoulder. Then suddenly lifeseemed to come to him with a rush, a new life, filled with a newsplendour. He was almost humbly conscious of bigger things than he hadever realised, a nearness to the clouds, a wonderful, thrilling sense ofcomplete and absolute happiness. .. . Reluctantly he came back to earth. His thoughts became practical. He went to the back of his car, drew outa rocket on a stick and thrust it firmly into the lawn. Then he startedhis engine and almost immediately afterwards she came. She was wearing awhite silk motor-coat and a thick veil. Behind her came a bewilderedFrench maid, carrying wraps, and a man-servant with a heavydressing-case. In silence these things were stowed away. She took herplace in the car. Lane struck a match and stepped on to the lawn. 

"Don't be frightened, " he said. "Here goes!"

A rocket soared up into the sky. Then he seated himself beside her andthey glided off. 

"That means, " he explained, "that they'll let your father and the othersoff in two hours. Give us plenty of time to get to Nice. Have you--leftany word for him?"

"I have left a very short message, " she answered, "to say that I wasgoing to marry you. He will never forgive me, and I feel very wicked andvery ungrateful. "

"Anything else?" he whispered, leaning a little towards her. 

She sighed. 

"And very happy, " she murmured. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII

HONEYMOONING

Hunterleys saw the Right Honourable Meredith Simpson and MonsieurDouaille off to Paris early that morning. Then he called round at thehospital to find that Sidney Roche was out of danger, and went on to thevilla with the good news. On his way back he stayed chatting with thebank manager until rather later than usual, and afterwards strolled onto the Terrace, where he looked with some eagerness towards a certainpoint in the bay. The _Minnehaha_ had departed. Mr. Grex and hisfriends, then, had been set free. Hunterleys returned to the hotelthoughtfully. At the entrance he came across two or three trunks beingwheeled out, which seemed to him somehow familiar. He stopped to look atthe initials. They were his wife's. 

"Is Lady Hunterleys leaving to-day?" he asked the luggage-porter. 

"By the evening train, sir, " the man announced. "She would have caughtthe _Côte d'Azur_ this morning but there was no place on the train. "

Hunterleys was perplexed. Some time after luncheon he enquired for LadyHunterleys and found that she was not in the hotel. A reception clerkthought that he had seen her go through on her way to the Sporting Club. Hunterleys, after some moments of indecision, followed her. He waspuzzled at her impending departure, unable to account for it. TheDraconmeyers, he knew, proposed to stay for another month. He walkedthoughtfully along the private way and climbed the stairs into the Club. He looked for his wife in her usual place. She was not there. He made alittle promenade of the rooms and eventually he found her amongst thespectators around the baccarat table. He approached her at once. 

"You are not playing?"

She started at the sound of his voice. She was dressed very simply intravelling clothes, and there were lines under her eyes, as though shewere fatigued. 

"No, " she admitted, "I am not playing. "

"I understood in the hotel, " he continued, "that you were leavingto-day. "

"I am going back to England, " she announced. "It does not amuse me hereany longer. "

He realised at once that something had happened. A curious sense ofexcitement stole into his blood. 

"If you are not playing here, will you come and sit down for a fewmoments?" he invited. "I should like to talk to you. "

She followed him without a word. He led the way to one of the divans inthe roulette room. 

"Your favourite place, " he remarked, "is occupied. "

She nodded. 

"I have given up playing, " she told him. 

He looked at her in some surprise. She drew a little breath and kept hereyes steadily averted. 

"You will probably know sometime or other, " she continued, "so I willtell you now. I have lost four thousand pounds to Mr. Draconmeyer. I amgoing back to England to realise my own money, so as to be able to payhim at once. "

"You borrowed four thousand pounds from Mr. Draconmeyer?" he repeatedincredulously. 

"Yes! It was very foolish, I know, and I have lost every penny of it. Iam not the first woman, I suppose, who has lost her head at MonteCarlo, " she added, a little defiantly. 

"Does Mr. Draconmeyer know that you are leaving?" he asked. 

"Not yet, " she answered, after a moment's hesitation. "I had aninterview with him yesterday and I realised at once that the money mustbe paid, and without delay. I realised, too, that it was better I shouldleave Monte Carlo and break off my association with these people for thepresent. "

In a sense it was a sordid story, yet to Hunterleys her words soundedlike music. 

"I am very pleased indeed, " he said quietly, "that you feel like that. Draconmeyer is not a man to whom I should like my wife to owe money fora moment longer than was absolutely necessary. "

"Your estimate of him was correct, " she confessed slowly. "I am sorry, Henry. "

He rose suddenly to his feet. An inspiration had seized him. 

"Come, " he declared, "we will pay Draconmeyer back without sending youhome to sell your securities. Come and stand with me. "

She looked at him in amazement. 

"Henry!" she exclaimed. "You are not going to play? Don't! Take myadvice and don't!"

He laughed. 

"We'll see, " he replied confidently. "You wouldn't believe that I was afatalist, would you? I am, though. Everything that I had hoped for seemsto be happening to-day. You have found out Draconmeyer, we havecheckmated Mr. Grex, I have drunk the health of Felicia and DavidBriston--"

"Felicia and David Briston?" she interrupted quickly. "What do youmean?"

"You knew, of course, that they were engaged?" he explained. "I calledround at the villa this morning, after I had been to the hospital, andfound them busy fixing the wedding day. "

She looked at him vaguely. 

"Engaged?" she murmured. "Why, I thought--"

A spot of colour suddenly burned in her cheeks. She was beginning tounderstand. It was Draconmeyer who had put those ideas into her head. Her heart gave a little leap. 

"Henry!" she whispered. 

He was already at the table, however. He changed five mille notesdeliberately, counted his plaques and turned to her. 

"I am going to play on your principle, " he declared. "I have alwaysthought it an interesting one. See, the last number was twenty-two. I amgoing to back twenty and all the _carrés_. "

He covered the board around number twenty. There were a few minutes ofsuspense, then the click as the ball fell into the little space. 

"_Vingt-huit, noir, passe et pair!_" the croupier announced. 

Hunterleys' stake was swept away. He only smiled. 

"Our numbers are going to turn up, " he insisted cheerfully. "I amcertain of it now. Do you know that this is the first time I have playedsince I have been in Monte Carlo?"

She watched him half in fear. This time he staked on twenty-nine, withthe maximum _en plein_ and all the _carrés_ and _chevaux_. Again the fewmoments of suspense, the click of the ball, the croupier's voice. 

_"Vingt-neuf, noir, impair et passe!"_

She clutched at his arm. 

"Henry!" she gasped. 

He laughed. 

"Open your bag, " he directed. "We'll soon fill it. "

He left his stake untouched. Thirty-one turned up. He won two _carrés_and let the table go once without staking. Ten was the next number. Immediately he placed the maximum on number fourteen, _carrés_ and_chevaux_. Again the pause, again the croupier's voice. 

_"Quatorze rouge, pair et manque!"_

Hunterleys showed no exultation and scarcely any surprise. He gatheredin his winnings and repeated his stake. This time he won one of his_carrés_. The next time _quatorze_ turned up again. For half-an-hour hecontinued, following his few chosen numbers according to the run of thetable. At the end of that time Violet's satchel was full and he wasbeginning to collect mille notes for his plaques. He made a littlecalculation in his mind and decided that he must already have won morethan the necessary amount. 

"Our last stake, " he remarked coolly. 

The preceding number had been twenty-six. He placed the maximum ontwenty-nine, the _carrés_, _chevaux_, the column, colour and last dozen. He felt Violet's fingers clutching his arm. There was a little buzz ofexcitement all round the table as the croupier announced the number. 

_"Vingt-neuf noir, impair et passe!. .. "_

They took their winnings into the anteroom beyond, where Hunterleysordered tea. There was a little flush in Violet's cheeks. They countedthe money. There was nearly five thousand pounds. 

"Henry!" she exclaimed. "I think that that last coup was the mostmarvellous win I ever saw!"

"A most opportune one, at any rate, " he replied grimly. "Look who iscoming. "

Draconmeyer had entered the room, and was peering everywhere as thoughin search of some one. He suddenly caught sight of them, hesitated for amoment and then approached. He addressed himself to Violet. 

"I have just seen Linda, " he said. "She is broken-hearted at the thoughtof your departure. "

"I am sorry to leave her, " Violet replied, "but I feel that I havestayed quite long enough in Monte Carlo. By the bye, Mr. Draconmeyer, there is that little affair of the money you were kind enough to advanceto me. "

Draconmeyer stood quite still. He looked from husband to wife. 

"Four thousand pounds, my wife tells me, " Hunterleys remarked coolly, ashe began to count out the notes. "It is very good of you indeed to haveacted as my wife's banker. Do you mind being paid now? Our movements area little uncertain and it will save the trouble of sending you acheque. "

Draconmeyer laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh, nor was it in theleast mirthful. 

"Dear me!" he exclaimed. "I had forgotten that little matter. As youwill, certainly. "

He accepted the notes and stuffed them into his pocket. 

"By the bye, " he continued, "I think that I ought to congratulate you, Sir Henry. That last little affair of yours was wonderfullystage-managed. Your country owes you more than it is ever likely to pay. You have succeeded, at any rate, in delaying the inevitable. "

"I trust, " Hunterleys enquired politely, "that you were not detainedupon the yacht for very long?"

"We landed at the Villa at twelve o'clock this morning, " Draconmeyerreplied. "You know, of course, of the little surprise our young Americanfriend had prepared for Mr. Grex?"

Hunterleys shook his head. 

"I have heard nothing definite. "

"He was married to the daughter of the Grand Duke Augustus at midday atNice, " Draconmeyer announced. "His Serene Highness received a telephonemessage only a short time ago. "

Violet gave a little cry. She leaned across the table eagerly. 

"You mean that they have eloped?"

Draconmeyer assented. 

"All Monte Carlo will be talking about it to-morrow, " he declared. "TheGrand Duke has been doing all he can to get it hushed up, but it isuseless. I will not detain you any longer. I see that you are about tohave tea. "

"We shall meet, perhaps, in London?" Hunterleys remarked, as Draconmeyerprepared to depart. 

Draconmeyer shook his head. 

"I think not, " he replied. "The doctors have advised me that the climateof England is bad for my wife's health, and I feel that my own workthere is finished. I have received an offer to go out to South Americafor a time. Very likely I shall accept. "

He passed on with a final bow. Violet looked across their table and hereyes shone. 

"It seems like a fairy tale, Henry, " she whispered. "You don't know whata load on my mind that money has been, and how I was growing to detestMr. Draconmeyer. "

He smiled. 

"I was rather hating the beast myself, " he admitted. "Tell me, what areyour plans, really?"

"I hadn't made any, " she confessed, "except to get away as quickly as Icould. "

He leaned a little across the table. 

"Elopements are rather in the fashion, " he said. "What do you think?Couldn't we have a little dinner at Ciro's and catch the last train toNice; have a look at Richard and his wife and then go on to Cannes, andmake our way back to England later?"

She looked at him and his face grew younger. There was something in hereyes which reminded him of the days which for so many weary months hehad been striving to forget. 

"Henry, " she murmured, "I have been very foolish. If you can trust meonce more, I think I can promise that I'll never be half so idioticagain. "

He rose to his feet blithely. 

"It has been my fault just as much, " he declared, "and the fault ofcircumstances. I couldn't tell you the whole truth, but there has been avillainous conspiracy going on here. Draconmeyer, Selingman, and theGrand Duke were all in it and I have been working like a slave. Now it'sall over, finished this morning on Richard's yacht. We've done what wecould. I'm a free lance now and we'll spend the holidays together. "

She gave him her fingers across the table and he held them firmly inhis. Then she, too, rose and they passed out together. There was awonderful change in Hunterleys. He seemed to have grown years younger. 

"Come, " he exclaimed, "they call this the City of Pleasure, but theseare the first happy moments I have spent in it. We'll gamble infive-franc pieces for an hour or so. Then we'll go back to the hotel andhave our trunks sent down to the station, dine at Ciro's and wireRichard. Where are you going to stake your money?"

"I think I shall begin with number twenty-nine, " she laughed. 

 * * * * *

They lunched with Richard and his wife, a few days later, at the Casinoat Cannes. The change in the two young people was most impressive. Fedora had lost the dignified aloofness of Monte Carlo. She seemed asthough she had found her girlhood. She was brilliantly, supremely happy. Richard, on the other hand, was more serious. He took Hunterleys on oneside as they waited for the cars. 

"We are on our way to Biarritz, " he said, "by easy stages. The yachtwill meet us there and we are going to sail at once for America. "

"Fedora doesn't mind?" Hunterleys asked. 

"Not in the least, " Richard declared exultantly. "She knows what my dutyis, and, Hunterleys, I am going to try and do it. The people over theremay need a lot of convincing, but they are going to hear the truth fromme and have it drummed into them. It's going to be 'Wake up, America!'as well as 'Wake up, England!'"

"Stick at it, Richard, " Hunterleys advised. "Don't mind a littlediscouragement. Men who see the truth and aren't afraid to keep oncalling attention to it, get laughed at a great deal. People speak ofthem tolerantly, listen to what they say, doubt its reasonableness andput it at the back of their heads, but in the end it does good. Yourpeople and mine are slow to believe and slow to understand, but thetruth sinks in if one proclaims it often enough and loudly enough. Weare going through it in our own country just now, with regard toNational Service, for one thing. Here come your cars. You travel instate, Richard. "

The young man laughed good-naturedly. 

"There's nothing in life which I could give her that Fedora sha'n'thave, " he asserted. "We spent the first two days absolutely alone. Nowher maid and my man come along with the luggage in the heavy car, and wetake the little racer. Jolly hard work they have to keep anywhere nearus, I can tell you. Say, may I make a rather impertinent remark, SirHenry?"

"You have earned the right to say anything to me you choose, " Hunterleysreplied. "Go ahead. "

"Why, it's only this, " Richard continued, a little awkwardly. "I havenever seen Lady Hunterleys look half so ripping, and you seem yearsyounger. "

Hunterleys smiled. 

"To tell you the truth, I feel it. You see, years ago, when we startedout for our honeymoon, there was a crisis after the first week and wehad to rush back to England. We seem to have forgotten to ever finishthat honeymoon of ours. We are doing it now. "

The two women came down the steps, the cynosure of a good many eyes, thetwo most beautiful women in the Casino. Richard helped his wife into herplace, wrapped her up and took the steering wheel. 

"Hyères to-night and Marseilles to-morrow, " he announced, "Biarritz onSaturday. We shall stay there for a week, and then--'Wake up, America!'"

The cars glided off. Hunterleys and his wife stood on the steps, wavingtheir hands. 

"Something about those children, " Hunterleys declared, as they vanished, "makes me feel absurdly young. Let's go shopping, Violet. I want to buyyou some flowers and chocolates. "

She smiled happily as she took his arm for a moment. 

"And then?"

"What would you like to do afterwards?" he asked. 

"I think, " she replied, leaning towards him, "that I should like to goto that nice Englishman who lets villas, and find one right at the edgeof the sea, quite hidden, and lock the gates, and give no one ouraddress, and have you forget for just one month that there was any workto do in the world, or any one else in it except me. "

"Just to make up, " he laughed softly. 

"Women are like that, you know, " she murmured. 

"The man's office is this way, " Hunterleys said, turning off the mainstreet. 

THE END

 * * * * *

E. Phillips Oppenheim's Novels

We do not stop to inquire into the measure of his art any more than weinquire into that of Alexander Dumas. We only realize that here is abenefactor of tired men and women seeking relaxation. --_Independent_, New York. 

 Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo An amazing revelation of war in the making. 

 The Vanished Messenger What resulted when the Powers conspired against England. 

 A People's Man How a socialistic leader became involved in international affairs. 

 The Double Life of Mr. Alfred Burton Oppenheim in a new vein--a pure comedy. 

 The Mischief-Maker A blending of love, romance, and international intrigue. 

 The Lighted Way A mystery story that involves the revolution in Portugal. 

 Havoc An engrossing story of love, mystery, and international intrigue. 

 Peter Ruff and the Double-Four Deals with a shrewd detective and a mysterious secret society. 

 The Moving Finger A mystifying story dealing with a wealthy M. P. 's experiment. 

 Berenice A masterly tale of a strong love that is tragic in its outcome. 

 The Prince of Sinners An engrossing story of English social and political life. 

 Anna the Adventuress A surprising tale of a bold deception. 

 The Master Mummer The strange romance of beautiful Isobel de Sorrens. 

 The Mysterious Mr. Sabin The ingenious story of a bold international intrigue. 

 The Yellow Crayon Mr. Sabin's exciting experiences with a powerful secret society. 

 A Millionaire of Yesterday A gripping story of a wealthy West African miner. 

 The Man and His Kingdom A dramatic tale of adventure in South America. 

 The Traitors A capital romance of love, adventure, and Russian intrigue. 

 The Betrayal A thrilling story of treachery in high diplomatic circles. 

 A Sleeping Memory The story of an unhappy girl who was deprived of her memory. 

 Enoch Strone: A Master of Men A tremendously strong story of a self-made man. 

 A Maker of History A daring tale that "explains" a great historical event. 

 The Malefactor An amazing story of a strange revenge. 

 A Lost Leader A realistic romance woven around a striking personality. 

 The Great Secret Unfolds a stupendous international conspiracy. 

 The Avenger Unravels the deepest of mysteries with consummate power. 

 The Long Arm of Mannister Deals with a wronged man's ingenious revenge. 

 The Tempting of Tavernake In which an unromantic Englishman falls in love and learns something about women. 

 The Governors A romance of the intrigues of American finance. 

 Jeanne of the Marshes Strange doings at an English house party are here set forth. 

 As a Man Lives Discloses the mystery surrounding the fair occupant of a yellow house. 

 The Illustrious Prince Exposes a Japanese political intrigue in London. 

 The Lost Ambassador A straightforward mystery tale of Paris and London. 

 A Daughter of the Marionis A tale of a beautiful Sicilian whose love interfered with her revenge. 

 The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown An ingenious solution of a murder mystery. 

 The Survivor A striking story of a young Englishman's uphill fight. 

 The World's Great Snare The love romance of a pretty American girl and an English prospector. 

 Those Other Days A collection of gripping and vivid stories. 

 For the Queen Remarkable stories of diplomatic scandals and political intrigue.