ve gone. Stepney was very keen on the girl, I
think," said Jack.

The detective was annoyed.

"If I'd known before we could have intercepted them. We have several
destroyers in the harbour at Villafrance. Now I am afraid it is too
late."

"Where would they make for?" asked Jack.

The officer shrugged his shoulders.

"God knows," he said. "They could get into Italy or into Spain, possibly
Barcelona. I will telegraph the Chief of the Police there."

But the Barcelona police had no information to give. The _Jungle Queen_
had not been sighted. The weather was calm, the sea smooth, and
everything favourable for the escape.

Inquiries elicited the fact that Mr. Stepney had bought large quantities
of petrol a few days before his departure, and had augmented his supply
the evening he had left. Also he had bought provisions in considerable
quantities.

The murder was a week old, and Mr. Briggerland had undergone his
preliminary examination, when a wire came through from the Spanish
police that a motor-boat answering the description of the _Jungle Queen_
had called at Malaga, had provisioned, refilled, and put out to sea
again, before the police authorities, who had a description of the pair,
had time to investigate.

"You'll think I have a diseased mind," said Lydia, "but I hope she gets
away."

Jack laughed.

"If you had been with her much longer, Lydia, she would have turned you
into a first-class criminal," he said. "I hope you do not forget that
she has exactly a hundred thousand pounds of yours--in other words, a
sixth of your fortune."

Lydia shook her head.

"That is almost a comforting thought," she said. "I know she is what she
is, Jack, but her greatest crime is that she was born six hundred years
too late. If she had lived in the days of the Italian Renaissance she
would have made history."

"Your sympathy is immoral," said Jack. "By the way, Briggerland has been
handed over to the Italian authorities. The crime was committed on
Italian soil and that saves his head from falling into the basket."

She shuddered.

"What will they do to him?"

"He'll be imprisoned for life," was the reply "and I rather think that's
a little worse than the guillotine. You say you worry for Jean--I'm
rather sorry for old man Briggerland. If he hadn't tried to live up to
his daughter he might have been a most respectable member of society."

They were strolling through the quaint, narrow streets of Grasse, and
Jack