scious of a familiar face in the crowd of hurrying
foot-passengers.

I glanced up quickly as a man bustled past. Was I mistaken? I probably
had been; but the thin, keen, bearded countenance was very much like
that of Sir Charles Blythe. But no. When I looked back after him I saw
that his figure was much more bent and his appearance was not half so
smart and well groomed as the Count's friend.

At one moment I felt absolutely positive that the man had really been
watching me, and was now endeavouring to escape recognition, yet at the
next I saw the absurdity of such a thought. Sir Charles's face had, I
suppose, been impressed upon my memory on the previous evening, and the
passer-by merely bore some slight resemblance.

And so I dismissed it from my mind.

A few moments later a man in a frock-coat, probably the jeweller's
manager, opened the door, looked up and down the street for a few
moments, shot an inquisitive glance at me, and then disappeared within.

I found that the clock on the splashboard required winding, and was in
the act of doing this when my eyes fell upon a second person who was
equally a mystery. This time I felt convinced that I was not mistaken.
The fair-moustached young man Henderson went by, but without recognising
me.

Did either of the pair recognise the car? If so, what object had they in
not acknowledging me?

My suspicions were again aroused. I did not like either of the two men.
Were they following my master with some evil intent? In London, and
especially in certain cosmopolitan circles, one cannot be too cautious
regarding one's acquaintances. They had been slightly too over-dressed
and too familiar with the Count to suit me, and I had resolved that
if I had ever to drive either of them I would land them in some
out-of-the-world hole with a pretended breakdown. The non-motorist is
always at the mercy of the chauffeur, and the so-called "breakdowns" are
frequently due to the vengeance of the driver, who gets his throttle
stuck, or some trouble which sounds equally serious, but which is
remedied in one, two, three, or four hours, according to how long the
chauffeur decides to detain his victim by the roadside.

I wondered, as I sat ruminating, whether these two men were really
"crooks"; and so deep-rooted were my suspicions that I decided, when the
Count returned, to drop him a hint that we were being watched.

I am not nervous by any means, and, moreover, I always carry for my own