d himself
hastily.

Hunterleys smiled.

"Well, I was coming to that," he said. "I do feel hideously alone here,
and what I would like you to do is just this. I would like you to call
at my room at the Hotel de Paris, number 189, every morning at a certain
fixed hour--say half-past ten. Just shake hands with me--that's all.
Nothing shall prevent my being visible to you at that hour. Under no
consideration whatever will I leave any message that I am engaged or
have gone out. If I am not to be seen when you make your call, something
has happened to me."

"And what am I to do then?"

"That is the point," Hunterleys continued. "I don't want to bring you
too deeply into this matter. All that you need do is to make your way to
the English Bank, see Mr. Harrison, the manager, and tell him of your
fruitless visit to me. He will give you a letter to my wife and will
know what other steps to take."

"Is that all?" Richard asked, a little disappointed. "You don't
anticipate any scrapping, or anything of that sort?"

"I don't know what to anticipate," Hunterleys confessed, a little
wearily. "Things are moving fast now towards the climax. I promise I'll
come to you for help if I need it. You can but refuse."

"No fear of my refusing," Richard declared heartily. "Not on your life,
sir!"

Hunterleys rose to his feet with an appreciative little nod. It was
astonishing how cordially he had come to feel towards this young man,
during the last few hours.

"I'll let you off now," he said. "I know you want to look around the
tables and see if any of our friends of last night are to be found. I,
too, have a little affair which I ought to have treated differently a
few minutes ago. We'll meet later."

Hunterleys strolled back into the rooms. He came almost at once face to
face with Draconmeyer, whom he was passing with unseeing eyes.
Draconmeyer, however, detained him.

"I was looking for you, Sir Henry!" he exclaimed. "Can you spare me one
moment?"

They stood a little on one side, out of the way of the moving throng of
people. Draconmeyer was fingering nervously his tie of somewhat vivid
purple. His manner was important.

"Do you happen, Sir Henry," he asked, "to have had any word from the
prison authorities to-day?"

Hunterleys nodded.

"I have just received a message," he replied. "I understand that the man
with whom I had a struggle last night has received some internal
injuries and is likely to die."

Draconmeyer'