"I want the address of Mr John Riviere. Or rather, Mrs Matheson wants
it."

"Who is Mr John Riviere?"

This came as a fresh surprise to Lars Larssen, and made him doubly
anxious to discover the man. Why all this mystery surrounding him?

"I understand from Mrs Matheson that Mr Riviere is her husband's
half-brother. Lives somewhere around Paris."

"Strange! I've never heard of him myself. I'll make enquiries if you'll
wait a moment."

Presently Coulter returned with the young English clerk of the office.

"It seems that Mr Riviere called here yesterday afternoon and enquired
for Mr Matheson," explained Coulter.

Lars Larssen turned to the young clerk with a questioning look. "It was
the first time I had ever seen him, sir," said the clerk. "He came in
and asked quite naturally for Mr Matheson. There was an astonishing
likeness between them, but that was explained at once when he told me
they were half-brothers."

"An astonishing likeness?"

"When I say a likeness, sir, I mean of course in a general way. Mr
Riviere is younger and different in many ways."

"Describe him."

The clerk did so to the best of his ability.

"Did he leave an address?"

"No, sir."

"Or a message?"

"No."

"Or say where he was going?"

The clerk could offer no clue to the whereabouts or intentions of John
Riviere. Repeated questioning added little to the meagre information
already given.

"Mr Matheson has not been at the office to-day or yesterday. Have you
seen anything of him?" asked Coulter of the shipowner.

"I know. He's away to Canada."

"To Canada!"

"Yes. We discussed the matter the night I was here. Hasn't he written
you?"

"We've heard nothing."

"Reckon you will to-day.... Say, couldn't you look in Mr Matheson's desk
to find the address of this Mr Riviere?"

Coulter was the financier's confidential man. He had full power to go
over his employer's desk except for certain drawers labelled "Private,"
and he did so now.

When he came back from the search, he had an envelope in his hand
addressed "Lars Larssen, Esq."

"All I could find was this envelope for you, sir. There seems to be no
record of Mr Riviere's address."

The shipowner slit open the letter and read it with a countenance that
gave no clue whatever to what was passing in his mind.

"My dear Larssen," it ran, "I estimate your expenses on the Hudson Bay
scheme at roughly L20,000, and I enclose cheque for that amount. If this
is right, pl