nced. "He's all wrapped up and there's another man
holding him. I can't see anything of him but his eyes, for he's got a
handkerchief or something over the lower part of his face. He must be
awfully ill, poor fellow!"

"Probably got the grip," observed her father, practically. "Wants to
keep out the damp air. I think he'd be better off at home in bed."

"Oh, but then," protested Nell--

"Then we shouldn't have this show," said her father, and laughed grimly
at the thought that neither would fortune have smiled so promptly on the
Grand Hotel Royal.

The oars flashed suddenly upright; two men sprang from the bow, with a
fine disregard of a wetting, and pulled the boat far in. Then the
bemuffled figure was lifted tenderly and carried to the waiting chair,
where Monsieur Pelletan was bowing with his head almost touching the
carpet. The invalid was started toward the hotel without delay, three
men accompanying him, under the leadership of Pelletan; the baggage was
heaped on the beach and taken in charge by the hotel porters. A moment
later the boat shoved off.

A few waited to watch it make its way back to the ship, which
immediately steamed away toward the horizon; others followed the
procession headed by the invalid's chair; still others hurried ahead to
confer their patronage upon the Grand Hotel Royal; but the greater part
hastened back to their rooms to get something hot and bracing. From one
end to the other, the place was a-buzz with wagging tongues. Why should
the foreign secretary of the British Empire have chosen Weet-sur-Mer as
his abiding place? Merely because he was ill and wished to rest? Bah! To
believe that would be to show a mind the most credulous, would be to
evince an ignorance of high diplomacy the most profound. Again, why
should he have made the journey from England in a ship of war? Depend
upon it, there was a mystery here; a mystery not to be solved in a
moment even by such eminent amateurs as those assembled at Weet-sur-Mer.
It would take time--it would take study. But it was worth it! There was
something behind all this-something more than appeared on the surface
--in a word, a Plot! And the best place to study it,--the only place,
indeed,--was the Grand Hotel Royal.

So, instantly, there was a great packing of luggage, a despatching of
couriers, an engaging of rooms, a settling of bills which drove the
proprietor of the Splendide half mad with chagrin. He protested, he
swore, he offered con