r order to your maid. She had something
to say to you, but you gave her no opportunity."

"And you?" she asked, "what do you wish to say?"

"I wish to advise you," he said, "not to leave the hotel."

She looked at him doubtfully.

"You cannot understand," she said, "why I wish to leave it. I have no
alternative."

"Nevertheless," he said, "I hope that you will change your mind."

"Are you a detective?" she asked abruptly.

"Madam is correct!"

The flush of colour faded from her cheeks.

"I presume, then," she said, "that I am under your surveillance?"

"In a sense," he admitted, "it is true."

"On the steamer," she remarked, "you spoke as though your interest in me
was not inimical."

"Nor is it," he answered promptly. "You are in a difficult position, but
you may find things not so bad as you imagine. At present my advice to
you is this: Go upstairs to your room and stay there."

The little man had a compelling manner. Lucille made her way towards the
elevator.

"As a matter of fact," she murmured bitterly, "I am not, I suppose,
permitted to leave the hotel?"

"Madam puts the matter bluntly," he answered; "but certainly if you
should insist upon leaving, it would be my duty to follow you."

She turned away from him and entered the elevator. The door of her room
was slightly ajar, and she saw that a waiter was busy at a small round
table. She looked at him in surprise. He was arranging places for two.

"Who gave you your orders?" she asked.

"But it was monsieur," the man answered, with a low bow. "Dinner for
two."

"Monsieur?" she repeated. "What monsieur?"

"I am the culprit," a familiar voice answered from the depths of an
easy-chair, whose back was to her. "I was very hungry, and it occurred
to me that under the circumstances you would probably not have dined
either. I hope that you will like what I have ordered. The plovers' eggs
look delicious."

She gave a little cry of joy. It was Mr. Sabin.

CHAPTER XLII

The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite.
Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the lounge.
Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his side.

"Monsieur!" she whispered. "I have been here for one hour."

He nodded.

"Well?"

"Monsieur le Duc has arrived."

The Prince turned sharply round.

"Who?"

"Monsieur le Duc de Souspennier. He calls himself no longer Mr. Sabin."

A dull flush of angry colour rose alm