is the Residency," objected Monty, "and the law."

She laughed bitterly. "Thank you, I am in need of no passage home! I
overheard that ruffian say, and I think I heard you say too that you
are going to England. I want you to take a message for me."

"There is a post-office here," said Monty without turning a hair. He
looked straight into her iron eyes. "There is a cable station. I will
lend you money to cable with."

"Thank you, my Lord!" she sneered. "I have money. I am so used to
being snubbed that my skin would not feel a whip! I want you to take a
verbal message!"

It was perfectly evident that Monty would rather have met the devil in
person than this untidy dame; yet he was only afraid apparently of
conceding her too much claim on his attention. (If she had asked
favors of me I don't doubt I would have scrambled to be useful. I
began mentally taking her part, wondering why Monty should treat her so
cavalierly; and I fancy Yerkes did the same.)

"Tell me the message, and I'll tell you whether I'll take it," said
Monty.

She laughed again, even more bitterly.

"If I could tell it on these stairs," she answered, "I could cable it.
They censor cablegrams, and open letters in this place."

"I suspect that isn't true," said Monty. "But if you object to
witnesses, how do you propose to deliver your message to me?" he asked
pointedly.

"You mean you refuse to speak with me alone?"

"My friends would draw out of earshot," he answered.

"Your friends? Your gang, you mean!" She drew herself up very
finely--very stately. Very lovely she was to look at in that
half-light, with the shadows of Tippoo Tib's* old stairway hiding her
tale of years. But I felt my regard for her slipping downhill (and so,
I rather think did Yerkes). "You look well, Lord Montdidier, trapesing
about the earth with a leash of mongrels at your heel! Falstaff never
picked up a more sordid-looking pack! What do you feed them--bones?
Are there no young bloods left of your own class, that you need travel
with tradesmen?"

-------------
* The principal hotel In Zanzibar was formerly Tippoo Tib's residence,
quite a magnificent mansion for that period and place.
-------------

Monty stood with both hands behind him and never turned a hair. Fred
Oakes brushed up the ends of that troubadour mustache of his and struck
more or less of an attitude. Will reddened to the ears, and I never
felt more uncomfortable in all my life.