Jimmy choose
mine, though, and while he and Aunt Mary discussed the _langouste_ I
leaned on the railing looking out over the bay. You will remember that
scene--all the twinkling lights of the town, and the tumbled mass of the
Esterel mountains, sombre and strange, across the sea.

At dinner I began to hint to Aunt Mary about going on to Italy, but I
was rather sorry I'd said anything, for Jimmy caught me up like a flash,
and exclaimed that if we did make up our minds to such a trip, he would
like to keep us company on his Panhard, which he should no doubt find
waiting for him at Nice. Aunt Mary asked if we should be likely to meet
Lord Lane, as she had heard Jimmy talk so often of his friend Montie
that she quite longed to know him. She loves a lord, poor Aunt Mary, and
her face fell several inches when Jimmy answered that Montie was a very
retiring chap, shy with ladies, and might make a point of keeping out of
the way. When we got home to the hotel I had such a start. The
Honourable John's letter was gone out of the rack. I made sure that all
would now be over between the Napier and me, unless I could get so far
away with it that he'd sooner hire another than follow up his; and
anyway, if we disappeared he wouldn't know where to find us. I suppose
that was very bad and sly of me, wasn't it? I sent word to Brown that
we'd start at nine o'clock next morning; and wasn't it a joke on me,
after we'd been on the road for a while I told him what had happened,
and it turned out that _he'd_ taken the letter to re-address to his
master?

Just before we started Jimmy said he'd had a wire from Lord Lane that
his car was waiting for him at the _garage_ in the Boulevard Gambetta at
Nice, and we went there after our splendid drive from Cannes, as Brown
knew about the place, and thought it would be convenient to leave our
Napier there.

We sent our luggage by cab to our hotel, lunched at a delightful
restaurant, and in the afternoon, said Jimmy gaily, "I'll race you to
Monte and back with my Panhard." I knew in a minute what he meant, but
Aunt Mary thought he was talking about his everlasting Lord Lane, and
was so disappointed to find it was only Monte Carlo. _His_ Montie, he
explained, was seedy and confined to bed but he hoped we wouldn't
mention this before Brown, as Lord Lane didn't want his friend Jack
Winston to hear that he had come to the Riviera without letting him
know.

So after lunch we started away from glittering,