pleased at
my masterful friend's failure.

"Not a bit," said he. "Fendihook's leaving on Sunday certainly means
that he was starting to fulfill a provincial engagement on Monday. If it
was a week's engagement, he crosses to-night. We've only to wait and
catch them. If it was a three nights' engagement, which is possible, he
and Liosha crossed on Thursday night. In that case we'll cross ourselves
and track them down."

"Even if we have to go over the Andes and far away," I murmured.

"Even so," said he. "Now listen. If he's had a week's engagement he must
be finishing to-night. In order to catch the boat he must be working in
the neighbourhood. Savvy? The only possible place besides this is
Portsmouth. We'll run over to Portsmouth, only seventeen miles."

"All right," said I, with a wistful look back at my peaceful,
comfortable home, "let us go to Portsmouth. I'll resign myself to dine
at Portsmouth. But supposing he isn't there?" I asked, as the car drove
off.

"Then he went to Havre on Thursday."

"But suppose he's at Birmingham. He would then take to-morrow night's
boat."

"There isn't one on Sundays."

"Then Monday night's boat."

"Well, if he does, won't we be there on Tuesday morning to meet him on
the quay? Lord!" he laughed, and brought his huge grip down on my leg
above the knee, thereby causing me physical agony, "I should like to
take you on an expedition. It would do you a thundering lot of good."

We arrived at Portsmouth, where we conducted the same kind of enquiries
as at Southampton. Neither there nor at adjoining Southsea could we find
a sign of the Variety Star, Ras Fendihook, and still less of the obscure
Liosha. We dined at a Southsea hotel. We dined very well. On that I
insisted--without much expenditure of nervous force. Jaffery rails at me
for a Sybarite and what not, but I have never seen him refuse viands on
account of succulency or wine on account of flavour. We had a quart of
excellent champagne, a pint of decent port and a good cigar, and we felt
that the gods were good. That is how I like to feel. I felt it so
gratefully that when Jaffery suggested it was time to start back to
Southampton in order to waylay the London train at the docks, on the
off-chance of our fugitives having come down by it, and to catch the
Havre boat ourselves, I had not a weary word to say. I cheerfully
contemplated the prospect of a night's voyage to Havre. And as Jaffery
(also humanised by good cheer) ha