he ordinary way, Louise Aubin would go to the
police, and you would be traced and arrested. I propose, if you assent,
to utilize the _Cobra_ for your flight. She is the property of the
Maharajah, and Bhagwan Singh is as much interested in covering up his
attempt to gain an English bride by force as we are ourselves. Now that
the vessel won't be wanted for her original purpose, she may as well
earn her upkeep by helping to preserve the secret of our abortive
scheme. Once smuggled aboard safely, she could put you ashore at some
South American port, where you might carve out a new career, though you
must forgive my saying that I doubt your success in any undertaking."

Leslie allowed the gibe to pass. He was prepared to make allowances for
Nugent's disappointment, now that he was persuaded that he had
definitely abandoned the plot against Violet, and was only concerned in
hiding all traces of it. On the whole, the plan for evading arrest
rather appealed to him. With a dull despair at his heart, he had already
realized that the vengeful Frenchwoman had shattered his day-dream. Of
what use to him would be good old Aunt Sarah's benefaction, when there
was hanging over his head a murder charge which, even if he could refute
it, would remove Violet beyond his pale for ever?

"I suppose you're right," he gave his tardy consent. "And if I have got
to go, the sooner the better. When do you propose that I should start?"

Travers Nugent rose with a sigh of unaffected relief. "I expect it will
be the day after to-morrow," he made answer. "But we will meet again to
arrange final details. In the meanwhile, my dear fellow, let me
congratulate you on the one gleam of common-sense you have shown
throughout our disastrous association. All my energies must now be
directed to chaining up that wild-cat of a French maid till you are
safely on board."

Nodding curtly, he walked to the door, opened it, and, passing down the
stairs, left the club. Leslie, following more leisurely, was moved by a
great curiosity to see if he could account for that ominous creak. He
glanced into the reading-room, but there was no one there. It was too
early in the afternoon for the assembly of members who came to chat and
see the papers.

The click of balls, unusual at that hour, attracted him to the
billiard-room, and, entering, he was confronted with an enigma. The
lean, ascetic form of Mr. Mallory was bending over the table, poising
his cue for a difficult