; for I had been getting up to go, and sitting down
again, several times.

"Then he'll think twice before he goes back," pronounced Beatrice,
decisively; she was irreconcilable about my poor island.

Denny and I walked off together. As we went he observed:

"I suppose that chap's got no end of money?"

"Stefan--?" I began.

"No, no. Hang it, you're as bad as Miss Hipgrave says. I mean Bennett
Hamlyn."

"Oh, yes, absolutely no end to it, I believe."

Denny looked sagacious.

"He's very free with his dinners," he observed.

"Don't let's worry about it," I suggested, taking his arm. I was not
worried about it myself. Indeed, for the moment, my island monopolized
my mind, and my attachment to Beatrice was not of such a romantic
character as to make me ready to be jealous on slight grounds. Mrs.
Hipgrave said the engagement was based on "general suitability." Now
it is difficult to be very passionate over that.

"If you don't mind, I don't," said Denny, reasonably.

"That's right. It's only a little way Beatrice--" I stopped abruptly.
We were now on the steps outside the restaurant, and I had just
perceived a scrap of paper lying on the mosaic pavement. I stooped
down and picked it up. It proved to be a fragment torn from the menu
card. I turned it over.

"Hullo, what's this?" said I, searching for my eyeglass, which was, as
usual, somewhere in the small of my back.

Denny gave me the glass, and I read what was written on the back. It
was written in Greek, and it ran thus:

"By way of Rhodes--small yacht there--arrive seventh."

I turned the piece of paper over in my hand. I drew a conclusion or
two. One was that my tall neighbor was named Stefanopoulos; another,
that he had made good use of his ears--better than I had made of mine;
for a third, I guessed that he would go to Neopalia; for a fourth, I
fancied that Neopalia was the place to which the lady had declared
she would accompany him. Then I fell to wondering why all these things
should be so--why he wished to remember the route of my journey,
the date of my arrival, and the fact that I meant to hire a yacht.
Finally, those two chance encounters, taken with the rest, assumed a
more interesting complexion.

"When you've done with that bit of paper," observed Denny, in a tone
expressive of exaggerated patience, "we might as well go on, old
fellow."

"All right. I've done with it--for the present," said I. And I took
the liberty of slipping Mr. Cons