come. Half a dozen times to-day he's asked me to inquire if there's a
telegram for him, and he haunts the hall porter's box continually in
the hope of getting one. Have you heard any more from Tiler?"

"Yes, another mad telegram, this time from Marseilles. Fancy that! It
will be Constantinople next or Grand Cairo or Timbuctoo. The folly of
it!"

"What does my lord say?"

"Plenty, and it's not pleasant to bear. He's getting fairly wild, and
cart ropes won't hold him. He wants to go racing after Tiler now, and
if he does he'll give away the whole show. I hope to heaven your boss
will show his hand soon."

"It's not for me to make him, you must admit that. But cheer up,
_copain_, things may mend."

They did, as often happens when they seem to be at their worst.

I have always been an early riser, and was specially so at Aix, now
when the heat was intense, and the pleasantest hours of the day were
before the sun had risen high. I was putting the finishing touches to
my toilette about 7 A.M. when I heard a knock at my door, and
without waiting permission l'Echelle rushed in.

"Already dressed? What luck! There is not a moment to lose. Come
along. I've a _fiacre_ at the door below."

He gave the _etablissement_ as the address, and we were soon tearing
down the hill. As we drove along l'Echelle told me the news.

"It's come, that satanic telegram, and just what he wanted, I'm
prepared to swear. He simply jumped for joy when he read it."

"But what was the message? Go on, go on, out with it!" I shouted
almost mad with excitement.

"I can't tell you that, for I haven't seen it yet."

"Are you making a fool of me?"

"How could I see it? He put it straight into his pocket. But I mean
to see it pretty soon, and so shall you."

"You mean to abstract it somehow--pick his pocket, or what?"

"Simplest thing in the world. You see he's gone to have his bath, he
likes to be early, and he's undergoing the douche at this very moment,
which means naturally that he's taken off his clothes, and they are
waiting in the dressing-room for me to take home. I shall have a good
quarter of an hour and more to spare before they carry him back to the
hotel in his blankets and get him to bed."

"Ha!" I said, "that's a brilliant idea. How do you mean to work it
out?"

"Take the telegram out of his waistcoat pocket, read it, or bring it
to you."

"Bring it; that will be best," I interrupted, feeling a tinge of
suspicion.

"But I