ho sweetly
said: "Remember my conditions! Prove yourself my friend, and I will meet
you in Paris! Now, take me home." Samson was shorn of his locks, and the
delighted Alan Hawke found a little note slipped under his door in the
morning.

CHAPTER II. AN OFFENSIVE AND DEFENSIVE ALLIANCE.

When the now buoyant Major Alan Hawke was awakened by the golden lances
of morning which shivered gayly upon the Pennine Alps he proceeded to a
most leisurely toilet, having first satisfied himself that his winnings
of the night before were not the baseless fabric of a dream. He smiled
as he fingered the crisp, clean notes, and gazed lovingly upon the
dingy-looking but potent check drawn on the old army bankers.

"No nonsense about that signature," he cheerfully said. "Anstruther is
no welsher," and, as he rang for his hot water and a morning refresher,
he picked up the little note with an eager curiosity.

"By Gad! she is a cool one! This is no vulgar darned occasion! I need
all my wits to-day!" He was studying over the brief words when the ready
waiter took his order for a cosy breakfast. He had deliberately moved
out all his lines to an easy comfort, throwing out a line of pickets
against any appearance of social shabbiness. "She said that she had
money," he murmured, as he read the note again. "What the devil does she
want, then, if she has all the money she needs! Perhaps some discarded
mistress! Bah! The old man's heart is as hollow as a sentrybox, and,
besides, he has not been in Europe for nearly twenty years. Ah, I see!
Perhaps a bit of blackmail--some early indiscretion! She did speak about
the girl! Then I must be the silent partner of her future harvest! She
probably needs a man's arm to reach the wary old Baronet in future. My
lady writes in no uncertain tone."

He carefully folded the note and bestowed it safely with the spoil of
the young patrician. "Of course I must show up," he said as he betook
himself to his tub whence he emerged shapely as an Adonis with the
corded torso of an athlete. The appetizing breakfast put the Major in
excellent humor, and he drew forth his "sailing orders" as he lit his
first cheroot. Seated in a window recess, he watched the hotel frontage,
while he read the imperative lines again. They were explicit enough and
had been dictated en reine. "Meet me at the Musee Rath, in the vestibule
at two o'clock. He leaves here at one-thirty. Keep away from the hotel
and avoid us both. Go up t