ye fell on his wet boots. The whole thing was scaring, and jumping
up, he began to throw his clothes into his trunks. It was twelve o'clock
before he went down, and found his brother and Traquair still at the
table arranging an itinerary; he surprised them by saying that he too
was coming; and without further explanation set to work to eat. James
had heard that there were salt-mines in the neighbourhood--his proposal
was to start, and halt an hour or so on the road for their inspection;
he said: "Everybody'll ask you if you've seen the salt-mines: I
shouldn't like to say I hadn't seen the salt-mines. What's the good,
they'd say, of your going there if you haven't seen the salt-mines?" He
wondered, too, if they need fee the second waiter--an idle chap!

A discussion followed; but Swithin ate on glumly, conscious that his
mind was set on larger affairs. Suddenly on the far side of the street
Rozsi and her sister passed, with little baskets on their arms. He
started up, and at that moment Rozsi looked round--her face was the
incarnation of enticement, the chin tilted, the lower lip thrust a
little forward, her round neck curving back over her shoulder. Swithin
muttered, "Make your own arrangements--leave me out!" and hurried from
the room, leaving James beside himself with interest and alarm.

When he reached the street, however, the girls had disappeared. He
hailed a carriage. "Drive!" he called to the man, with a flourish of his
stick, and as soon as the wheels had begun to clatter on the stones he
leaned back, looking sharply to right and left. He soon had to give
up thought of finding them, but made the coachman turn round and round
again. All day he drove about, far into the country, and kept urging
the driver to use greater speed. He was in a strange state of hurry and
elation. Finally, he dined at a little country inn; and this gave the
measure of his disturbance--the dinner was atrocious.

Returning late in the evening he found a note written by Traquair.
"Are you in your senses, man?" it asked; "we have no more time to waste
idling about here. If you want to rejoin us, come on to Danielli's
Hotel, Venice." Swithin chuckled when he read it, and feeling
frightfully tired, went to bed and slept like a log.

VI

Three weeks later he was still in Salzburg, no longer at the Goldene
Alp, but in rooms over a shop near the Boleskeys'. He had spent a small
fortune in the purchase of flowers. Margit would croon ove