e."

"Here's hoping!" mumbled Schuyler. He did not define the exact nature of
his hope, but offered no further objections.

Mary, seeing that she was to have her wish, was anxious to start at
once, and almost surprised at herself for her own courage. But Carleton
explained that she could not "make an ascent," as he laconically called
it, dressed as she was. She must have a small, close fitting hat, and a
veil to tie it firmly down, also a heavy wrap. He had an oilskin coat
which he could lend her, to put over it. Mary was not, however, to be
turned from her desire by small obstacles. She had no very thick coat,
but knew where to buy a lovely moleskin, very long, down to her feet.
She could secure it and be ready in ten minutes if Mr. Schuyler would
send her up the hill in his car. Permission was granted and she went
spinning off with the chauffeur, both Schuyler and Carleton awaiting her
return at the hangar, down on the beach by the harbour.

The "ten minutes" prolonged themselves to twenty, and while they were
slowly passing, three men who had been on the Rock, writing their names
in the visitors' book at the palace, came strolling down the long flight
of paved steps to the harbour. One of these was Captain Hannaford. The
other Englishman was also an officer, Major Norwood, who had known
Hannaford long ago. And the third member of the party was the Maharajah
of Indorwana, an extremely troublesome young Indian royalty who was
"seeing Europe" under the guardianship of his reluctant bear leader,
Norwood. Since the pair had landed at Marseilles, three weeks ago,
Norwood had passed scarcely a peaceful moment by night or day. His
authority over his charge was officially absolute; but in practise it
could only be enforced by violence, which the unfortunate officer had
not yet brought himself to exert. If he did not wish the Maharajah (who
was twenty and had never before been out of his native land) to fall
into some new mischief every hour, he was obliged to find for the youth
a ceaseless succession of amusements. Monte Carlo was to have been but
the affair of a day. The Maharajah, however, had decided differently. He
liked the place, and firmly refused to move. The two had now been
staying for a week at the Metropole, and Major Norwood had telegraphed
to the India Office in London for instructions.

The night before, he had been dragged by his charge to three dances at
open-all-night restaurants, where professionals ente