n being her attendant. When Miss Kedison and I arrived at
Toulon on the car next day, it was decided to stay the night there
rather than go on so late. I saw Brown, who was working outside the
hotel at the automobile, take money out of his pocket to pay a man who
had been helping him with the repairs. Something small dropped on the
ground as he did so, unknown to Brown. When he had moved away, I stooped
and picked it up. It was a French pawn-ticket for a pledged watch, dated
the previous night. I determined, in the interest of my investigations,
to visit the pawnbroker's, which I did; and giving up the ticket, said I
had called to redeem the pledge. Imagine my sensations when I saw a
magnificent gold repeater, with the monogram "J. W." upon it in small
diamonds. The conclusion was obvious, for the watch was not one which
would be given by a master even to the most valued servant. I paid
something like two hundred and sixty francs to redeem the repeater, and
justified such a proceeding to myself by the argument that the watch had
assuredly been stolen, and that my action was the most certain way of
preserving it for the owner and earning that owner's gratitude, _if he
still existed_. Those last four words, which I have underscored, will
enlighten you as to the doubts now materialising in my mind. In fact, I
believe this _chauffeur_ a man _capable of anything_.

On returning to the hotel, with the Honourable Mr. Winston's watch in my
pocket, I made a few inquiries as to Brown's behaviour the night before;
I learned that he had appeared in the _salle a manger_ for dinner, in an
irreproachable evening suit which _in some way_ he must have obtained
from his master. Perhaps I ought not to repeat what else I learned, as I
do not like to tell tales out of school, but I think it is only right
you should know that Molly allowed this impostor to sit at the table
with her, as if he had been an equal instead of a servant.

I positively dared not let Miss Kedison into the secret of what had
happened, but I hinted to her that I had had good reason to think less
well of Brown even than before. It was arranged that we should induce
Molly to hurry on to Cannes, where Lady Brighthelmston (pronounced
"Brighton"), the mother of my friend the Honourable John Winston, was
supposed to be staying. I wished to find out from her when she had last
heard from her son, and if she were absolutely assured of his present
safety. I also intended to show