d
with orange-flower water. They were in ignorance of the presence of that
lynx-eyed man in grey flannels and straw hat who smoked his cigarette
leisurely and appeared to be so intensely bored.

No second glance at Fetherston was needed to ascertain that he was a most
thorough-going cosmopolitan. He usually wore his pale-grey felt hat at a
slight angle, and had the air of the easy-going adventurer, debonair and
unscrupulous. But in his case his appearance was not a true index to his
character, for in reality he was a steady, hard-headed, intelligent man,
the very soul of honour, and, above all, a man of intense patriotism--an
Englishman to the backbone. Still, he cultivated his easy-going
cosmopolitanism to pose as a careless adventurer.

Presently the pair rose, and, crossing the palm-lined place, entered the
casino; while Walter, finishing his "mazagran," lit a fresh cigarette,
and took a turn along the front of the casino in order to watch the
pigeon-shooting.

The winter sun was sinking into the tideless sea in all its
gold-and-orange glory as he stood leaning over the stone balustrade
watching the splendid marksmanship of one of the crack shots of Europe.
He waited until the contest had ended, then he descended and took the
_rapide_ back to Nice for dinner.

At nine o'clock he returned to Monte Carlo, and again ascended the
station lift, as was his habit, for a stroll through the rooms and a chat
and drink with one or other of his many friends. He looked everywhere for
the Swiss pair in whom he was so interested, but in vain. Probably they
had gone over to Nice to spend the evening, he thought. But as the night
wore on and they did not return by the midnight train--the arrival of
which he watched--he strolled back to the Metropole and inquired for them
at the bureau of the hotel.

"M'sieur and Madame Granier left by the Mediterranean express for Paris
at seven-fifteen this evening," replied the clerk, who knew Walter very
well.

"What address did they leave?" he inquired, annoyed at the neat manner in
which they had escaped his vigilance.

"They left no address, m'sieur. They received a telegram just after six
o'clock recalling them to Paris immediately. Fortunately, there was one
two-berth compartment vacant on the train."

Walter turned away full of chagrin. He had been foolish to lose sight of
them. His only course was to return to Nice, pack his traps, and follow
to Paris in the ordinary _rapide_ at e