busy tearing
up her handkerchief.

"I am going to tie up your head," she said. "Please stoop down."

He obeyed at once. The side of his forehead was bleeding where a bullet
from the revolver of the man he had captured had grazed his temple.

"Too bad to trouble you," he muttered.

"It's the least we can do," she declared, laughing nervously. "Forgive
me if my fingers tremble. It is the excitement of the last few minutes."

Hunterleys stood quite still. Words seemed difficult to him just then.

"You were very brave, Henry," she said quietly. "Whom--whom are you
going down with?"

"I am with Richard Lane," he answered, "in his two-seated racer."

She bit her lip.

"I did not mean to come alone with Mr. Draconmeyer, really," she
explained. "He thought, up to the last moment, that his wife would be
well enough to come."

"Did he really believe so, do you think?" Hunterleys asked.

A voice intervened. Mr. Draconmeyer was standing by their side.

"Well," he said, "we might as well resume our journey. We all look and
feel, I think, as though we had been taking part in a scene from some
opera bouffe."

Lady Hunterleys shivered. She had drawn a little closer to her husband.
Her coat was unfastened. Hunterleys leaned towards her and buttoned it
with strong fingers up to her throat.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You wouldn't--you couldn't drive down with
us, could you?"

"Have you plenty of room?" he enquired.

"Plenty," she declared eagerly. "Mr. Draconmeyer and I are alone."

For a moment Hunterleys hesitated. Then he caught the smile upon the
face of the man he detested.

"Thank you," he said, "I don't think I can desert Lane."

She stiffened at once. Her good night was almost formal. Hunterleys
stepped into the car which Richard had brought up. There was just a
slight mist around them, but the whole country below, though chaotic,
was visible, and the lights on the hill-side, from La Turbie down to the
sea-board, were in plain sight.

"Our troubles," Hunterleys remarked, as they glided off, "seem to be
over."

"Maybe," Lane replied grimly. "Mine seem to be only just beginning!"

CHAPTER X

SIGNS OF TROUBLE

At ten o'clock the next morning, Hunterleys crossed the sunlit gardens
towards the English bank, to receive what was, perhaps, the greatest
shock of his life. A few minutes later he stood before the mahogany
counter, his eyes fixed upon the half sheet of notepaper which the
manager ha