hed the man who
was watching Casimir and whose excellent reports revealed the fact
that Casimir was an honest fellow--as valets go--and instructed him
to assist in tracing the movements of the Hindu.

Two nights later they tracked him to a riverside cafe kept by a
gigantic quadroon from Dominique and patronized by that type which
forms a link between the lowest commercial and the criminal classes:
itinerant vendors of Eastern rugs, street performers and Turkish
cigarette makers.

At last I began to have hopes. The Grand Duke at this time was
speaking of leaving Paris, but as he had found temporary consolation
in the smiles of a lady engaged at the "Folies" I did not anticipate
that he would depart for several days at any rate. Also he was the
kind of man who is stimulated by obstacles.

The Hindu remained for an hour in the cafe, smoking and drinking
some kind of syrup, and one of my fellows watched him. Presently the
proprietor called him into a little room behind the counter and closed
the door. The Hindu and the quadroon remained there for a few minutes,
then the Hindu came out and left the cafe, returning to his abode.
There was a telephone in this inner room, and my agent was of opinion
that the Indian had entered either to make or to receive a call. I
caused the line to be tapped.

On the following night the Hindu came back to the cafe, followed by
one of my men. I posted myself at a selected point and listened for
any message that might pass over the line to or from the cafe. At
about the same hour as before--according to the report--someone called
up the establishment, asking for "Miguel." This was the quadroon, and
I heard his thick voice replying. The other voice--which had first
spoken--was curiously sibilant but very distinct. Yet it did not sound
like the voice of a Frenchman or of any European. This was the
conversation:

"Miguel."

"Miguel speaks."

"_Scorpion._ A message for Chunda Lal."

"Very good."

Almost holding my breath, so intense was my excitement, I waited
whilst Miguel went to bring the Hindu. Suddenly a new voice
spoke--that of the Hindu.

"Chunda Lal speaks," it said.

I clenched by teeth; I knew that I must not miss a syllable.

"Scorpion" replied ... in voluble _Hindustani_--a language of which I
know less than a dozen words!

CHAPTER II

CONCERNING THE GRAND DUKE

Although I had met with an unforeseen check, I had nevertheless learned
three things. I had lea