e to have the real
poetry of the spring evening in it."

I agreed with him, and we were silent for a while. Later he asked me
diffidently not to mention to any one his penchant for Persian poetry.

"Even at the Yard," he explained, "I doubt whether they would put it
down to my credit."

I gave him the assurance he asked for, and from that time forth I came
to look upon him as a personal friend. I confided wholly to him the
hopes I entertained in regard to my love affair; and he assured me that
if he had anything to do with it, I should also have a hand in the
arrest of the Pirate.

All our time was not spent, however, in pleasant excursions about the
country. Forrest was by no means idle; he had been busy perfecting his
scheme for utilizing the telegraph in notifying the Pirate's
reappearance when it should be made. Then he had in addition thoroughly
and minutely explored the whole of the country round, to see if any
trace of the strange visitor were obtainable. His endeavours were quite
fruitless, but he still held to his belief that he could not be far
away; and the next time the Pirate did make his appearance he was
confirmed in his opinion.

The weather had been fine for three days in succession, there had been a
drying breeze, and the roads from sloppy quagmires became in such
perfect condition that I was looking forward to a really good spin. But
Forrest had other views for the evening of the third day.

"I don't think," he remarked, as he sipped his coffee after our early
dinner, "we can afford to spend the night ranging the highways.
Business first and pleasure afterwards."

"I thought you were of opinion that our friend will be tempted to make
his reappearance to-night?" I remarked.

"I am," he answered; "and therefore the best thing, we can do is to wait
until we hear in which direction he makes his reappearance. If we wait
in St. Albans at the end of the telegraph wire, we shall be much more
likely to meet him than running about at random."

There was so much good sense in the suggestion that I resigned myself to
the inevitable waste of time, and I had my reward. About eleven a
message came over the wire: "Motor Pirate seen near Towcester going in
the direction of Daventry."

"How far is Towcester?" asked Forrest, the moment he heard the message.

"Roughly, I should say forty miles," I answered.

"We ought to manage it within the hour, then," he remarked. "Come
along."

Without another word w