hing the police authorities and requesting their co-operation,
and also using Gros Jean and the Turks as a stalking-horse, Brett felt
tolerably certain that the time would soon arrive when Dubois and he
would stand face to face.

In making these manifold preparations the morning passed rapidly. The
barrister insisted that his companions should go for a drive whilst he
busied himself with the necessary details, and they should meet at the
hotel for the midday meal. It was then that he singled out Sir Hubert
for his personal share in the pursuit.

"You know Mr. Winter?" he said to the baronet.

"Yes, I remember him perfectly."

"In that case I wish you to go to the station and meet the 3.45 p.m.
train on arrival. You will probably see the Turks and Gros Jean, but pay
no attention to them. Keep a bright look-out for Mr. Winter. Walk up
quite openly and speak to him, and the probability is that should Gros
Jean have become suspicious of this Englishman who follows in the same
track as himself, your presence on the platform will convince him that
he was mistaken in imagining the slightest connection between Winter's
journey and his own."

"That is good," said the major-general. "It would never have occurred to
me. Any other commands?"

"None, save this," continued Brett, smiling at the old soldier's
eagerness to obey implicitly any instructions given to him. "When you
meet Winter, tell him, if possible, to so direct his movements as to
find out Gros Jean's destination, if it can be done without giving the
Frenchman the slightest cause for uneasiness. Otherwise the matter is of
no consequence. I have already interviewed the chief of police here, and
it will only be a question of an hour's delay before the local
detectives effectually locate the quarters occupied by Gros Jean and the
Turks."

CHAPTER XX

CLOSE QUARTERS

Sir Hubert was all eagerness to undertake his mission. He reached the
station at least half an hour too soon. Anyone seeing him there would
readily admit that the barrister could not have chosen an agent less
guileful in appearance. The very cut of his clothes, the immaculate
character of his white spats, bespoke the elderly British gentleman.

At last the train arrived. The vast majority of its passengers were
Sicilian peasants or business men returning to Palermo from the interior
of the island. To Sir Hubert's delight, he at once caught sight of Gros
Jean and the Turks, whom, of course,