an's last resource," he muttered thickly.

"And there is a woman's answer to it," she replied, her finger suddenly
resting 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. A
waiter entered. Lady Hunterleys picked up her parasol and moved towards
the 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'll
hope 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 which
scorched 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 a
very excellent cigar, looked around at his companions with a smile of
complete approval.

"Our host," he declared, bowing to Mr. Grex, "has surpassed himself. For
a hired yacht I have seen nothing more magnificent. A Cabinet Moselle,
Flor de Cuba cigars, the best of company, and an isolation beyond all
question. What place could suit us better?"

There was a little murmur of assent. The four men were seated together
in the wonderfully decorated saloon of what was, beyond doubt, a most
luxurious yacht. Through the open porthole were visible, every few
moments, as the yacht rose and sank on the swell, the long line of
lights which fringed the shore between Monte Carlo and Mentone; the
mountains beyond, with tiny lights flickering like spangles in a black
mantle of darkness; and further round still, the stream of light from
the Casino, reflected far and wide upon the black waters.

"None," Mr. Grex asserted confidently. "We are at least beyond reach of
these bungling English spies. There is no further fear of eavesdroppers.
We are entirely alone. Each may speak his own mind. There is nothing to
be feared in the way of interruption. I trust, Monsieur Douaille, that
you appreciate the altered circumstances."

Monsieur Douaille, who was looking very much more at his ease, assented
without hesitation.

"I must confess," he agreed, "that the isolation we now enjoy is, to a
certain extent, reassuring. Here we need no longer whisper.