Carlo. It is here that they
come from all quarters of the world--the ladies who charm away our
hearts," he added, bowing to mademoiselle, "the financiers whose word
can shake the money-markets of the world, and the politicians who
unbend, perhaps, just a little in the sunshine here, however cold and
inflexible they may be under their own austere skies. For the last time,
then--to Monte Carlo! To Monte Carlo, dear mademoiselle!--messieurs!"

[Illustration: "For the last time, then--to Monte Carlo!"]

They drank the toast and a few minutes later Hunterleys slipped away.
The two men looked after him. The smile seemed gradually to leave
Selingman's lips, his face was large and impressive.

"Run and fetch your cloak, dear," he said to the girl.

She obeyed at once. Selingman leaned across the table towards his
companion.

"What does Hunterleys do here?" he asked.

Draconmeyer shook his head.

"Who knows?" he answered. "Perhaps he has come to look after his wife.
He has been to Bordighera and San Remo."

"Is that all he told you of his movements?"

"That is all," Draconmeyer admitted. "He was suspicious. I made no
progress."

"Bordighera and San Remo!" Selingman muttered under his breath. "For a
day, perhaps, or two."

"What do you know about him?" Draconmeyer asked, his eyes suddenly
bright beneath his spectacles. "I have been suspicious ever since I met
him, an hour ago. He left England on December first."

"It is true," Selingman assented. "He crossed to Paris, and--mark the
cunning of it--he returned to England. That same night he travelled to
Germany. We lost him in Vienna and found him again in Sofia. What does
it mean, I wonder? What does it mean?"

"I have been talking to him for twenty minutes in here before you came,"
Draconmeyer said. "I tried to gain his confidence. He told me nothing.
He never even mentioned that journey of his."

Selingman was sitting drumming upon the table with his broad fingertips.

"Sofia!" he murmured. "And now--here! Draconmeyer, there is work before
us. I know men, I tell you. I know Hunterleys. I watched him, I listened
to him in Berlin six years ago. He was with his master then but he had
nothing to learn from him. He is of the stuff diplomats are fashioned
of. He has it in his blood. There is work before us, Draconmeyer."

"If monsieur is ready!" mademoiselle interposed, a little petulantly,
letting the tip of her boa play for a moment on his cheek.

Selingman fin