started the
following morning they could reach the Riviera by the following Friday,
and let it go at that. He did not refer again to the subject until they
reached the Coburns' door, when he asked quickly: "By the way, will you
tell them we're leaving tomorrow or shall I?"

"I will," said Merriman, to his relief.

The Girondin was loading props as they set out in the Ford car, and the
work was still in progress on their return in the late afternoon. Mr.
Coburn had excused himself from joining the party on the ground of
business, but Captain Beamish had taken his place, and had proved
himself a surprisingly entertaining companion. At the old chateau they
had a pleasant alfresco lunch, after which Captain Beamish took a number
of photographs of the party with his pocket Kodak.

Merriman's announcement of his and Hilliard's impending departure had
been met with a chorus of regrets, but though these sounded hearty
enough, Hilliard noticed that no definite invitation to stay longer was
given.

The friends dined with the Coburns for the last time that evening. Mr.
Coburn was a little late for the meal, saying he had waited on the wharf
to see the loading completed, and that all the cargo was now aboard, and
that the Girondin would drop down to sea on the flood tide in the early
morning.

"We shall have her company so far," Hilliard remarked. "We must start
early, too, so as to make Bordeaux before dark."

When the time came to say good-bye, Mr. Coburn and his daughter went
down to the launch with their departing visitors. Hilliard was careful
to monopolize the manager's attention, so as to give Merriman his
innings with the girl. His friend did not tell him what passed between
them, but the parting was evidently affecting, as Merriman retired to
his locker practically in silence.

Five o'clock next morning saw the friends astir, and their first sight
on reaching the deck was the Girondin coming down-stream. They exchanged
hand waves with Captain Beamish on the bridge, then, swinging their own
craft, followed in the wake of the other. A couple of hours later they
were at sea.

Once again they were lucky in their weather. A sun of molten glory
poured down from the clearest of blue skies, burnishing a track of
intolerable brilliance across the water. Hardly a ripple appeared on
the smooth surface, though they rose and fell gently to the flat ocean
swell. They were running up the coast about four miles out, and except