directly
responsible for the death of another. I am here, therefore, to give you
what I may term an official warning. Your absence as a witness to-morrow
morning will not be commented upon--events of importance have called you
back to England. You will thereby be saved a very large amount of
annoyance, and the authorities here will be spared the most regrettable
necessity of having to deal with you in a manner unbefitting your rank."

Hunterleys became at once thoughtful. The whole matter was becoming
clear to him.

"I see," he observed. "This is a warning to me to take my departure. Is
that so?"

The Commissioner beamed and nodded many times.

"You have a quick understanding, Sir Henry," he declared. "Your
departure to-night, or early to-morrow morning, would save a good deal
of unpleasantness. I have fulfilled my mission, and I trust that you
will reflect seriously upon the matter. It is the wish of the high
personage whom I represent, that no inconvenience whatever should befall
so distinguished a visitor to the Principality. Good day, monsieur!"

The official took his leave with a sweep of the hat and many bows.
Hunterleys, after a brief hesitation, walked out into the sun-dappled
street. It was the most fashionable hour of the afternoon. Up in the
square a band was playing. Outside, two or three smart automobiles were
discharging their freight of wonderfully-dressed women and debonair men
from the villas outside. Suddenly a hand fell upon his arm. It was
Richard Lane who greeted him.

"Say, where are you off to, Sir Henry?" he inquired.

Hunterleys laughed a little shortly.

"Really, I scarcely know," he replied. "Back to London, if I am wise, I
suppose."

"Come into the Club," Richard begged.

"I have just left," Hunterleys told him. "Besides, I hate the place."

"Did you happen to notice whether Mr. Grex was in there?" Richard
enquired.

"I didn't see him," Hunterleys answered. "Neither," he added
significantly, "did I see Miss Grex."

"Well, I am going in to have a look round, anyway," Richard decided.
"You might come along. There's nothing else to do in this place until
dinner-time."

Hunterleys suffered himself to be persuaded and remounted the steps.

"Tell me, Lane," he asked curiously, "have you heard anything about any
of the victims of our little struggle last night--I mean the two men we
tackled?"

Richard shook his head.

"I hear that mine has a broken wrist," he said. "Can't say