thank you, too, for my drive. I
have enjoyed it very much. I am very glad indeed that I had the courage
to make you tell me the truth."

"I hope," he whispered, as he handed her out, "that you will never lack
the courage to ask me anything."

CHAPTER XXI

ASSASSINATION!

Selingman, a large cigar between his lips and a happy smile upon his
face, stood in the square before the Casino, watching the pigeons. He
had just enjoyed an excellent lunch, he was exceedingly pleased with a
new light grey suit which he was wearing, and his one unsatisfied desire
was for companionship. Draconmeyer was away motoring with Lady
Hunterleys, Mr. Grex was spending the early part of the day in conclave
with their visitor from France, and Mademoiselle Nipon had gone to Nice
for the day. Selingman had been left to his own devices and was
beginning to find time hang upon his hands. Conversation and
companionship were almost as great necessities with him as wine. He
beamed upon the pigeons and looked around at the people dotted about in
chairs outside the Cafe de Paris, hoping to find an acquaintance. It
chanced, however, that he saw nothing but strangers. Then his eyes fell
upon a man who was seated with folded arms a short distance away, a man
of respectable but somewhat gloomy appearance, dressed in dark clothes,
with pale cheeks and cavernous eyes. Selingman strolled towards him.

"How go things, friend Allen?" he enquired, dropping his voice a little.

The man glanced uneasily around. There was, however, no one in his
immediate vicinity.

"Badly," he admitted.

"Still no success, eh?" Selingman asked, drawing up a chair and seating
himself.

"The man is secretive by nature," was the gloomy reply. "One would
imagine that he knew he was being watched. Everything which he receives
in the way of a written communication is at once torn up. He is the most
difficult order of person to deal with--he is methodical. He has only
the hotel valet to look after his things but everything is always in its
place. Yesterday I went through his waste-paper basket. I took home the
contents but the pieces were no larger than sixpences. I was able to put
together one envelope which he received yesterday morning, which was
franked 'On His Majesty's Service,' and the post-mark of which was
Downing Street."

Selingman shook his head ponderously and then replied seriously:

"You must do better than that, my Sherlock Holmes--much better."

"I