ho had no intention of doing anything of the sort, turned
towards the young man with a smile.

"Lady Carey has not introduced us," he said, "but I have seen you at
Ranelagh quite often. If you are still keen on polo you should have a
try over here. I fancy you would find that these American youngsters can
hold their own. All right, Felix, I am ready now. Lady Carey, I shall do
myself the honour of waiting upon you early to-morrow morning, as I have
a little excursion to propose. Good-night."

She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away. Mr.
Sabin smiled--faintly amused. He turned to Felix.

"Come," he said, "we have no time to lose."

CHAPTER VIII

"I regret," Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in the
small coupe, "that your stay in this country will be so brief."

"Indeed," Felix answered. "May I ask what you call brief?"

Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.

"We are already," he said, "on the way to England."

Felix laughed.

"This," he said, "is like old times."

Mr. Sabin smiled.

"The system of espionage here," he remarked, "is painfully primitive. It
lacks finesse and judgment. The fact that I have taken expensive rooms
on the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there, that my
own belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our friends
conclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave America by that
boat. They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest on some ridiculous
charge which they intend to present at the last moment. They will not
have the opportunity."

"But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?" Felix
asked.

"Not from New York," Mr. Sabin answered, "but it was never my intention
to sail from New York. We are on our way to Boston now, and we sail in
the Saxonia at six o'clock to-morrow morning."

"We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf," Felix remarked.

"It is quite correct," Mr. Sabin answered. "Follow me through the hall
as quickly as possible. There is another carriage waiting at the other
entrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my dressing-case."

They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules. At
the Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up. Duson was
standing upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than ever
under the electric light. Mr. Sabin stopped short.

"Felix," he said, "one word. If by any chance things have gone wrong
they will not hav