the
table, drew a packet of press cable sheets towards him and wrote for
some time steadily. When he had finished, he read through the result of
his 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 way
by eight."
"Press message, mind, to the _Daily Post_. If the operator wants to know
what 'Number 1' means after '_Daily Post_,' you can tell him that it
simply indicates to which editorial room the message is to be
delivered."
"That's a clever idea," Roche mused. "Code dispatches to Downing Street
might cause a little comment."
"They wouldn't do from here," Hunterleys declared. "They might be safe
enough from Cannes but it's better to run no risks. These will be passed
on 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 my
passport. Besides, I got the man here to announce in the _Monte Carlo
News_ that I was the accredited correspondent for the district, and that
David Briston had been appointed by a syndicate of illustrated papers to
represent them out here. That's in case we get a chance of taking
photographs. I had some idea of going out to interview Monsieur
Douaille."
Hunterleys shook his head.
"I shouldn't. The man's as nervous as he can be now, I am pretty sure of
that. Don't do anything that might put him on his guard. Mind, for all
we know he may be an honest man. To listen to what these fellows have to
say doesn't mean that he's prepared to fall in with their schemes. By
the by, you've nothing about the place, I suppose, if you should be
raided?"
"Not a thing," was the confident reply. "We are two English newspaper
correspondents, and there isn't a thing to be found anywhere that's not
in keeping, except my rather large make-up outfit and my somewhat mixed
wardrobe. I am not the only newspaper correspondent who goes in for
that, though. Then there's Felicia. They all know who she is and they
all know that she's my sister. Anyhow, even if I do get into trouble up
at the Villa Mimosa, I can't see that I shall be looked upon as anything
more than a prying newspaper correspondent. They can't hang me for
that."
Hunterleys accepted a cigarette and lit it.
"I needn't tell you fellows
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