lays of detectives waiting in this hotel day and night,
with instructions to guard the doors as soon as you were shown up to my
rooms. Be advised, Mr. Phinuit, and forget your pistol. Even to show it
in this city would make matters infinitely worse for you than they
are."

"He's lying," Monk insisted, putting a restraining hand on Phinuit's
arm as that one started from his chair in rage and panic. "He wouldn't
dare."

"Would I not? Then, since you believe nothing till it is proved to you,
messieurs, permit me..."

Lanyard crossed rapidly to the hall door and flung it open--and fell
back a pace with a cry of amazement.

At the threshold stood, not the detective whom he had expected to see,
but a woman with a cable message form in one hand, the other lifted to
knock.

"Madame!" Lanyard gasped--"Madame de Montalais!"

The cable-form fluttered to the floor as she entered with a gladness
in her face that was carried out by the impulsive gesture with which
she gave him her hands.

"My dear friend!" she cried happily--"I am so glad! And to think we
have been guests of the same hotel for three livelong days and never
knew it. I arrived by La Touraine Saturday, but your message,
telegraphed back from Combe-Redonde, reached me not five minutes ago. I
telephoned the desk, they told me the number of your room and--here I
am!"

"But I cannot believe my senses!"

With unanimous consent Jules, Phinuit and Monk uprose and made for the
door, only to find it blocked by the substantial form of a plain
citizen with his hands in his pockets and understanding in his eyes.

"Steady, gents!" he counselled coolly. "Orders are to let everybody in
and nobody out without Mr. Lanyard says so."

For a moment they hung in doubt and consternation, consulting one
another with dismayed stares. Then Phinuit made as if to shoulder the
man aside. But for the sake of the moral effect the latter casually
exhibited a pistol; and the moral effect of that was stupendous. Mr.
Phinuit disconsolately slouched back into the room.

Grasping the situation, Eve de Montalais turned to the quartet eyes
that glimmered in a face otherwise quite composed.

"But how surprising!" she declared. "Madame la Comtesse de
Lorgnes--Monsieur Monk--Mr. Phinuit--how delightful to see you all
again!"

The civility met with inadequate appreciation.

"Nothing could be more opportune," Lanyard declared; "for it is to this
lady, Madame de Montalais, and to these gentle