knows, I never expected that I should be in a position to
call you foolhardy."

And with this she left him to bask in the hero-worship which the
approaching Mrs. Cole-Mortimer would lavish upon him.

The "accident" kept them at home that night, and Lydia was not sorry. A
settee is not a very comfortable sleeping place, and she was ready for a
real bed that night. Mr. Stepney found her yawning surreptitiously, and
went home early in disgust.

The night was warmer than the morning had been. The _Foehn_ wind was
blowing and she found her room with its radiator a little oppressive.
She opened the long French windows, and stepped out on to the balcony.
The last quarter of the moon was high in the sky, and though the light
was faint, it gave shadows to trees and an eerie illumination to the
lawn.

She leant her arms on the rail and looked across the sea to the lights
of Monte Carlo glistening in the purple night. Her eyes wandered idly to
the grounds and she started. She could have sworn she had seen a figure
moving in the shadow of the tree, nor was she mistaken.

Presently it left the tree belt, and stepped cautiously across the lawn,
halting now and again to look around. She thought at first that it was
Marcus Stepney who had returned, but something about the walk of the man
seemed familiar. Presently he stopped directly under the balcony and
looked up and she uttered an exclamation, as the faint light revealed
the iron-grey hair and the grisly eyebrows of the intruder.

"All right, miss," he said in a hoarse whisper, "it's only old Jaggs."

"What are you doing?" she answered in the same tone.

"Just lookin' round," he said, "just lookin' round," and limped again
into the darkness.

Chapter XXIII

So old Jaggs was in Monte Carlo! Whatever was he doing, and how was he
getting on with these people who spoke nothing but French, she wondered!
She had something to think about before she went to sleep.

She opened her eyes singularly awake as the dawn was coming up over the
grey sea. She looked at her watch; it was a quarter to six. Why she had
wakened so thoroughly she could not tell, but remembered with a little
shiver another occasion she had wakened, this time before the dawn, to
face death in a most terrifying shape.

She got up out of bed, put on a heavy coat and opened the wire doors
that led to the balcony. The morning was colder than she imagined, and
she was glad to retreat to the neighbourhood of