ido's Hotel, I fancy you said? In
that case, if you take the first turning to the left, and then the next
to the right, and afterwards continue straight on, you will reach it. I
shall expect to see you at half-past four."

Without giving Max time to accept or decline his invitation, he retired
into his office, leaving him free to make his way back to his hotel.
This he did with a heart overflowing with gratitude for the kindness he
had received.

"I certainly can't grumble at my luck now," he said to himself, as he
walked along.

Punctual to the moment he returned to Mr. Brockford's office. This time
he entered it with the air of a man who occupied an assured position in
the world. Even the clerks, having had evidence before them that their
employer was well disposed towards the stranger, treated him in a
different fashion to what they had done when he had first made his
appearance.

"You are punctual," said Mr. Brockford, as soon as he was admitted to
his presence. "It is a good omen in a country like this, where
everything is put off to be done at a future date; a business habit of
that description cannot be too highly commended. Though I fear, however
well we start, we all fall into evil ways in the end. Even our friend
Montezma, who is an excellent business man in his way, is no exception
to the rule. Now, if you are ready, let us be off."

Then they set off in the direction of the quay. As they passed through
the city Max had an opportunity of seeing how well his companion was
known. He was occupied almost continually receiving and returning
salutations. Reaching the waterside they descended a flight of steps, at
the foot of which a neat steam launch was awaiting them. They took their
places and were soon steaming down the bay, bound for the Island of
Paqueta, one of the loveliest spots in Rio Bay, and ten miles distant
from the city.

As Max was soon to discover, Mr. Brockford's residence was on a par with
his reputation. It was a charming place in every way, exquisitely quiet
and restful after the bustle and excitement of the city. The house
itself, a long one-storied building, surrounded by a deep verandah, was
comfortably, but not ostentatiously, furnished. In the dining-room were
several good pictures, among others a view of Carisbrooke Castle. It was
by a well-known artist, and Max stood for some little time before it.

"Is not this Carisbrooke?" he inquired, turning to his host, who was
mixing a coo