charming, and will beguile
a journey which might otherwise be tedious. What is the hour of the
train's departure?"

Sacovitch drew out a pocket-book, and, extracting a loose leaf from it,
handed it to him.

"You will find all your instructions there: the train, the hotel
at which Lady Rollinson is staying, and the boat. Mr. Brunow has my
certificate to the captain of the boat, who will place himself at your
service at any hour."

"_Buono!_" said the Italian, folding the paper with a flourish, and
bestowing it in his breast-pocket. "Is there anything more?"

"That is all," said Sacovitch. "I think we understand each other, and we
could do no more than that if we talked till midnight."

"In that case," said Roncivalli, rising, "until tomorrow, madame. Until
to-morrow, Mr. Brunow." He took up his paletot from the chair onto which
he had thrown it on his entrance, and threw it over his shoulder. Then
he took his hat, and with a half-theatrical bow all round, and a smile
at Sacovitch, he left the room. The hall-door banged a few seconds
later, and his footstep sounded on the gravel of the path and then died
away.

"I am not quite sure that I trust that fellow," Sacovitch said a minute
later. "It will be your business to keep a strict eye upon him."

"Have no fear," said the baroness. "He shall be well watched."

There was more talk, but it had no interest for me, though I still
listened intently in the hope of learning more. In a quarter of an hour
or thereabouts the servant was called in, and received instructions to
bring the baroness's carriage, which appeared to be put up at a hotel
while the conference was being held. She and Brunow and Constance were,
it appeared, going back to town together, and I learned incidentally
that the cottage had been rented by Sacovitch for his own purposes, as
affording a more convenient and secret meeting-place than any he could
find in London. Directly the servant had received his orders I gave
Hinge a sign, and with infinite precautions we climbed from the veranda
to the garden, and thence made our way on tip-toe, like a pair of
thieves, to the roadway.

"They're a nice old lot, sir, ain't they?" said Hinge, when we had
walked a hundred yards in silence.

I quieted him by returning no answer, and we walked on without another
word until I had reached my own chamber. By this time I had quite made
up my mind as to the line it was my duty to adopt, and wheresoever it
led me I wa