w that for a lie. He had never seen Sylvester before, to his
knowledge, and he had a keen memory for faces. What was the man driving
at? He must try and discover. With his long years of business training
behind him, Riviere became suddenly expansive, talking with apparent
frankness without in reality saying anything of import.

"As you say, a remarkable man. That is, as a financier. Personally I
have no interests in that direction. My brother and I have very little
in common. He is the man of affairs, and I am buried in my work. What
was the subject of your interview with him?"

"Canada's future. He gave me a splendid interview--first-rate copy,"
lied Sylvester. "Have you seen your brother lately? Is he engaged on any
big scheme just now? Perhaps you could put me on to a news story in that
direction? I should be glad if you could."

Riviere knew that Sylvester was fishing for information of some kind,
but what it was puzzled him completely, unless the man were now speaking
the truth in his statement that he was on the look-out for financial
news. That seemed the only solution of the puzzle.

"I've seen nothing of my brother lately," answered Riviere. "He's at
Monte Carlo, I believe. I'm sorry not to be able to help you in the
matter, but, as I said before, I'm very little interested in my
brother's movements or plans. His ways and mine lie apart. If I hear of
anything that might be of service to you, I'll let you know. Will you
give me your address?"

"Hotel de la Poste will find me. I travel about the Midi for the
_Chronicle_. They'll send on any message for me at the hotel."

"Many thanks for your kindness in the matter of suppressing the story of
the attack," said Riviere, and his tone intimated that it was now time
for the visitor to leave.

Sylvester, having gained the objects of his visit, rose and took his
departure. Inside half-an-hour he had developed an excellent snap-shot
of Riviere walking along the garden path towards him. He wrote a long
letter to Lars Larssen explaining that John Riviere apparently knew
nothing of the disappearance of Clifford Matheson, and detailing the
story of Elaine and the vitriol outrage.

With the letter he enclosed a bromide print of the snapshot.

* * * * *

Inside a room, closely shuttered to keep out the light, Riviere was
talking earnestly with Elaine a few days later. The agony of the first
days had died down, but she was absolutely h