. We just swept up it like a black squall.

Left and right, then, and we entered the straight--with thirty seconds
to go.

"Some way up," breathed Piers.

I set my teeth hard and let my lady out....

By the time I had sighted the station, the speedometer's needle had
swung to seventy-three....

I ran alongside the pavement, clapped on the brakes, threw out the
clutch.

Piers switched off, and we flung ourselves out of the car.

Stiff as a sleepy hare, I stumbled into the hall.

"_Le train pour Paris!_" I shouted. "_Ou est le train pour Paris?_"

"This way!" cried Piers, passing me like a stag.

I continued to shout ridiculously, running behind him.

I saw him come to a barrier ... ask and be answered.... try to push
through....

The officials sought to detain him.

A whistle screamed....

With a roar I flung aside the protesting arms and carrying Piers with
me, floundered on to the platform.

A train was moving.

Feeling curiously weak-kneed, I got carefully upon the step of a
passing coach. Piers stepped on behind me and thrust me up to the door.

Then a conductor came and hauled us inside.

* * * * *

I opened my eyes to see Adele's face six inches away.

"Better, old chap," she said gently.

I tried to sit up, but she set a hand upon my chest.

"Don't say I fainted?" I said.

She smiled and nodded.

"But I understand," she said, "that you have a wonderful excuse."

"Not for ser-wooning," said I. "Of course we did hurry, but...."

Piers burst in excitedly.

"There isn't another driver in all----"

"Rot," said I. "Jonah would have done it with a quarter of an hour to
spare."

So he would.

My cousin would have walked to the train and had a drink into the
bargain.

* * * * *

While the train thundered northward through a drowsy world, a council
of five sat up in a _salon lit_ and laid its plans. By far its most
valuable member was Senor Don Fedriani, travelling by chance from
Biarritz to the French capital....

It was, indeed, in response to his telegram from Poitiers that, a few
minutes before seven o'clock the next morning, two detectives boarded
our train at the _Gare Austerlitz_.

Five minutes later we steamed into the _Quai d'Orsay_.

Jill, carefully primed, was the first to alight.

Except for Piers, Duke of Padua, the rest of us followed as ordinary
passengers would. It was, of course, plain that we had no