any means in my power; understand that, and look out
for squalls if you try."

I confess he cowed me; he was so strong, so masterful, and, as I
began to fear, so unscrupulous, that I felt I could not make head
against him. Certainly not alone. I must have Tiler's help, his
counsel, countenance, active support. I must get in touch with him at
the earliest possible moment and my nearest way to him, situated as I
was now, must be at or through Brieg.

So I resigned myself to my fate, and suffered myself to be driven on
with my pertinacious escort hanging on to me mile after mile of my
wearing and interminable journey. We pulled up for luncheon and a
short rest at the Furka; again in the afternoon at the Rhone Glacier.
Then we pursued our way all along the valley, with the great snow peak
of the Matterhorn in front of us, through village and hamlet, in the
fast fading light, and so on under the dark but luminous sky into
Munster, Fiesch, and Morel, till at length we rolled into Brieg about
11 P.M.

I drove straight to the Hotel de la Poste, careless that my tormentors
were accompanying me; they could do me no more harm, and Tiler was at
hand to help in vindicating our position.

There was no Tiler at the Hotel de la Poste; no Tiler in Brieg. Only
a brief telegram from him conveying unwelcome and astounding
intelligence. It had been despatched from Vevey about 2 P.M.,
and it said:

"Lost her somewhere between this and Lausanne. Am trying back. Shall
wire you again to Brieg. Wait there or leave address."

My face must have betrayed my abject despair. I was so completely
knocked over that I offered no opposition when the Colonel impudently
took the telegram out of my hand and read it coolly.

"Drawn blank!" he cried, unable to contain himself for joy. "By the
Lord Harry, that's good."

CHAPTER X.

[_The Statement of the Second Detective_, _Ludovic Tiler_.]

I travelled via Ostend, Brussels and Strasburg, and was due at Basle
from that side at 4.35 A.M. My instructions were to look out
for Falfani there, and thought I might do so if our train was fairly
punctual, as it was. We were "on time," and the answer to my first
question was that the Lucerne express was still at the platform, but
on the point of departure.

I got one glimpse of Falfani and one word with him. He was in trouble
himself; they had nipped him, caught him tight, and thrown him off the
scent. I was now to take up the running.

"Yo