cessions the most unheard of--all in vain. His day
was over!

Rushford, his work as cicerone des dames accomplished, returned
leisurely to the hotel, while the girls started for their accustomed
walk. He smiled grimly to himself as he entered the office, the scene
was so different from that of yesterday. For the moment, all was
excitement. Monsieur Pelletan and his assistants were busy attending to
the wants of their distinguished guest; down in the kitchen, the chef
was cursing the stupidity of the unfortunate menials under him and
striving madly to prove himself worthy the occasion--the greatest of his
life! Every moment, a porter toiled up to the door with a load of
luggage; every moment some one arrived demanding a room--and not one
murmured at the tariff! The lift groaned and creaked under the
unaccustomed weights put upon it and moved more slowly than ever.
Pelletan, as he hurried past, mopping his perspiring brow, had time only
for a single glance at his good angel--but what a glance! Such a glance,
no doubt, Columbus caught from his lieutenants at the cry of "Land Ho!"

Rushford, leaning over the desk, watching the confusion with an
amusement which had banished every trace of ennui, felt his arm touched.
He turned and recognised the be-gilt messenger of the day before.

"A second telegram for monsieur," said that functionary, with an amiable
grin, and produced the message.

There was no time for hesitation. Rushford took it, signed the blank,
and fished up the expected tip.

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave!" he murmured, and looked at the
address on the little white envelope. It read:

_M. le Proprietaire,

Grand Hotel Royal,

Weet-sur-Mer._

"The plot thickens!" he murmured. "Well, it's really for me. Let's see,"
and he tore it open. He whistled again as he read the message; then he
called the nearest boy. "Tell Monsieur Pelletan to come here at once,"
he said. "Tell him I must speak to him on a matter of importance."

At the end of a moment, the little man puffed down the stair, exhausted,
radiant!

"Iss eet not grand!" he cried. "What a change from yesterday! T'ough how
you haf accomplishe' eet, monsieur--"

"No matter," interrupted Rushford. "Which is the next best of your
apartments, Pelletan?"

"T'e nex' best? Why, apartment B, monsieur. Eet iss t'e counterpart of
apartment A, only on t'e nort' side of t'e house instead of t'e sout'."

"And it is still empty?"

"At two hundret fr