CHAPTER XXIII

AT BEAULIEU

"The sun upon the calmest sea Appears not half so bright as thee."

The next morning Madame Villebois, whose slumbers had been disturbed by the excitement and noise during the night, and who loved ease, was having her chocolate in bed, and studying the menu which the maid had brought up for her special benefit.

"Marie," she said, as her maid propped her back up against the pillows, "you are to be sure to make friends with the chef and bring me a copy of the menus for lunch and dinner as soon as they are printed, and, Marie, fetch me my portemonnaie. See, give him this and tell him to allow you to see how the entrées are prepared, and don't forget the sauces--especially the sauces, do you understand? Oh, I forgot--yes--find out whether he wraps the red mullet in paper soaked in olive oil or butter, be sure and ask him this, as it is most important, and don't forget also to find out how he prepares his gigot à la Mailly, and his poulets à la Villeroy. Do you think, Marie, that he will tell you all this for a small pourboire?"

"Please, madame, I have seen him already and he is a most charming gentleman. He has such a sweet smile and such lovely whiskers. I think if you will leave him to me, madame, I will find out all you want. You know I have my little ways with gentlemen."

"Marie, what do you mean? How dare you take liberties with men? And with cooks of all people! You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I shall have to give you notice."

"Oh, but, madame, if you only saw him. He is such a nice gentleman, he patted me under the chin and gave me a kiss on my lips."

Madame gave a start that nearly threw her out of bed, and stared at her as if she were some new animal at the Zoo.

"Marie, Marie, leave the room this minute. I shall tell my husband the moment I get back to Paris, and he will dismiss you at once when he hears it. Oh, dear, what shall I do? To think you have disgraced the family in this way. I would dismiss you now, you vulgar thing, but--"

"Thank you, ma'am," Marie replied, curtseying with a pout.

"Thank you, indeed. Wait and see what Dr. Villebois will say to you. You dare to simper and smile after this?"

Marie readjusted her pillows, and her lips curled in a defiant smile, for she knew the doctor would take her part every time. Hadn't he on one occasion given her a brooch instead of dismissing her when madame drove her out of the room, and on another occasion a pair of turquoise ear-rings, when she handed her over to her spouse for reprimand and dismissal?

"Can I do anything more for madame?" she replied with her sweetest smile.

"Go away, you hussy. I shall send for the doctor immediately."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Marie again, as she bowed herself out of the room.

"Of all the impudent, brazen-faced minxes I have ever seen, Marie is the worst," said madame to herself, as she heard the door close behind her. "The idea of such a thing! I would have sent her about her business there and then, only I know I cannot do without her. The airs these hussies put on, I don't really know what the world is coming to with their scandalous behaviour. Had it been an officer who kissed her, it would not have mattered--but a cook, with a double chin and whiskers! Holy Mary!" and the good lady crossed herself and sank down among the pillows to dream of the wickedness of femmes de chambre in general, and her own amazing righteousness. It was half-past nine when the rest of the party sat down to breakfast in the salle à manger of the hotel. Marcel, flushed and tired, entered the room and looked round to see if he could detect the culprit among the numerous guests, and failing that, sat down next to Riche who did his best to soothe his ruffled feelings.

"I hope, my dear chap, that the pain has gone, and that you are none the worse for the practical joke which was played on you last night," said Villebois, standing up and bowing to him as he sat down.

Marcel returned the salutation. "Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, wiping his brow with a gorgeous purple silk handkerchief, "no one can imagine what I have suffered. Even Dives could not have experienced worse sensations in his tongue in Hades than I did in my chest. I declare a flogging would not have hurt half as much. You should see my skin, it is all covered with blisters the size of a five-franc piece. If it had not been for my friend Riche who spread a handkerchief covered with Carron oil and dionine over it, I should not have been here this morning to breakfast, that's certain. Oh! if I could only meet the rascal who played me that trick, I would compel him to wear a plaster like mine for a week."

Just at the moment Monsieur Beaupaire was seized with a furious fit of coughing and wheezing. "I am afraid," said Villebois, "the medicine and plaster which I prescribed did not do its work as well as I expected."

"Medicine and plaster!" exclaimed Beaupaire with a look of astonishment. "I never saw either of them, although I remember you gave me the prescription with both remedies written down."

Marcel looked up in surprise and whispered something to Riche, while Violette blushed up to the roots of her hair, and bent down to pick up her napkin which she had purposely dropped. "Oh dear!" she whispered to Céleste who was sitting between her and Riche, "whatever will become of me?" and her face expressed unutterable things.

"Why! what have you done?"

Just then Céleste happened to lean back, and Violette turning half round, caught Riche's eye just as she was drinking her coffee, which caused her to swallow it in such a hurry that it nearly choked her. She set her cup down, and whispering into Céleste's ear, walked quickly out of the salle a manger followed by Céleste.

The two girls closed the door, ran quickly upstairs, and locked themselves in Violette's bedroom.

"Now tell me all about it," said Céleste, as they seated themselves on the ottoman.

"Oh! it's too dreadful for words," said Violette. "I asked Dr. Villebois to allow me to prepare the plaster for papa, and put it on him myself. I made a lovely one, and put three times as much mustard on it as I was ordered, as I wanted it to do him ever so much good. Well, I uncovered his chest and spread it carefully over and had just tucked him up and was about to leave when I discovered to my horror that I had entered the wrong room, and had put the plaster on a strange gentleman. I dared not take it off for fear of waking him, and so I crept out of the room on tip-toe. Later on when the people came rushing upstairs I ran to see what was the matter, and found out to my horror that the unfortunate man was--whom do you think?"

"Riche?"

"No, my dear--Marcel! Good Heavens! what shall I do? He will never forgive me."

Céleste gave a little cry of surprise.

"Good gracious!" she exclaimed, putting her arm round Violette's shoulder, "what a dreadful mistake to make, but I am sure, dear, with a little tact, you will be able to put matters right."

"Do you really think he will ever forgive me?" Violette asked, looking into her face for some gleam of hope.

"Oh yes, of course he will. I know Marcel far better than you do. He is really a very nice man, and has far too much sense of humour to be angry for long. Besides, you know the Italian proverb 'Ad ogni cosa e rimedio fuora ch'alla morte.'"

"Thank you ever so much, dear, for your sympathy and advice. I shall be much happier now," and so saying they left the room together.

Meanwhile, Riche had taken in the whole situation.

"I say, my boy," he said to Marcel, "I've found out the culprit at last."

"Who? Where?" cried Marcel in an excited voice.

"Why, that young lady who was sitting on the other side of Céleste."

Marcel turned round and looked at the position indicated.

"Why, you surely don't mean Mademoiselle Beaupaire?"

"Yes, of course I do. I saw her blushing furiously a few minutes ago, and I noticed her turn her face away the moment you happened to look in her direction. Oh, there can be no doubt about it."

"By Jove, I understand it all now, it's as clear as daylight," said Marcel, slapping Riche's thigh. "What a fool I was not to see it before. The explanation is quite simple; she mistook my bedroom for her father's, and as it was dark she put the plaster on the wrong man."

"Ha! ha! you've hit it, my boy, it's immensely funny. Ha! ha!" and Riche and Marcel both held their sides and shook with laughter.

"Oh! my chest, my chest," cried Marcel, "don't make me laugh so," and the tears streamed down his cheeks with the pain caused by his laughing.

"But I say, Riche," he said as he calmed down, "it's a terrible blow to me."

"Why?" asked Riche, looking at him with a curious smile.

"Well, you know I--ahem--have taken quite a fancy to her. She's a ripping girl, and as clever as they make them, and I am afraid this silly mistake has upset the whole apple-cart."

"Are you really so gone on her as all that?" enquired Riche with a wink of his eye.

"Well, I confess I am a bit in love with her. By Jove, Riche, she is the finest girl in all France."

"My word, you must be in love with her," Riche replied, "I had not the least idea that the little blind god had wounded you so deeply; ma foi! but it's becoming serious."

"Really, monsieur, you must not joke at me like this. If you only knew what a splendid girl she is, and how my future happiness depends on my getting her hand, you would not laugh at me."

Riche gave a low whistle. "By Jove," he said to himself, "he is madly in love with her and no mistake."

"Come! let's drop the subject," he said in a voice of despair, "all my hopes are shattered by that cursed plaster. It's finished now, and it is no good crying over spilt milk."

"What nonsense you are talking. My dear boy, it's the finest thing for you that could ever have happened."

"The finest thing that could have happened? What do you mean?"

"My dear fellow, you've got the game in your own hands now. By putting that beastly plaster, as you call it, on your chest, she handed you the trump card. You have only to appear angry to bring her to her knees, and you can name your own conditions of capitulation. Get a diamond ring, my boy, and the sooner the better."

"Do you really think she will let me put it on her finger?"

"If she likes you ever so little, and has no one else on her string she will, especially if you make your declaration of love at the psychological moment."

"And how am I to know when that is?" enquired Marcel in a tone of great anxiety.

"When she comes to beg your forgiveness. But," added Riche, "you must not forgive her right away, you must first play with your fish. Pay out the line until the fish is getting exhausted, and then you will be able to haul it in without any difficulty."

"Upon my soul, Riche, you are an artful card. Where did you manage to learn these things?"

"Ich habe gelebt and geliebt," replied Riche with a smile, humming Schubert's well known air.

Marcel wrung his hand. "Thanks awfully. I will follow your advice to the letter," and going into the hall he picked up his hat and stick and left the hotel arm in arm with his friend to see the beauties and sights of the place, but more especially with the object of purchasing the ring to adorn his divinity's hand, so as to be ready for the attack when they returned for lunch.

Meanwhile Delapine was walking arm in arm with Monsieur Payot and Renée up and down the broad terrace of the hotel.

"Where are we now?" said Payot to Delapine who was well acquainted with the Riviera.

"We are at present in the little seaside town of Beaulieu, which may be called a suburb of Villefranche, the town you see on the right snugly nestled in the little bay formed by the promontory over there," and he pointed with his stick.

"What is the town still further away on our right?" said Renée as she stood looking at a handsome steam yacht which was making its way towards the bay of Villefranche.

"That is Nice which we passed last night in the train, and further away you can just catch sight of Var and Antibes. That white streak there is the carriage road--the Corniche--one of the most celebrated roads in Europe which extends along the entire coast of the Riviera. Dante trod the road when an exile from Italy, and it suggested to him a road out of purgatory. In those days it was a terrible pass hewn out of the solid rock, now rising to giddy heights, and now dropping almost to the sea level. At times half hidden by great projecting rocks, and again splashed by mountain streams and disappearing into deep gorges covered with trees and ferns, it formed a majestic image to Dante of the ascent from the Purgatorial Sea."

"But, Henri, it does not seem dreadful at all to me."

"Not now; thanks to modern engineering, instead of being a rugged road on which a slip was frequently fatal, it is now a magnificent carriage road as smooth as this terrace and quite as safe. We shall walk along it this afternoon, when we will inspect the buildings and grounds of Monte Carlo, and I think you will say that you could never be tired of viewing such lovely scenery as we shall see, such wonderful variety does it offer.

"Look," he said, pointing with his stick to the verdure-clad mountains which formed the background to the picture, "how beautiful it is. See how the slopes are covered with olive, almond, carouba, and pine trees which grow here in such perfection as you will seek for elsewhere in vain. What could be finer? See far away in the distance the chain of the Alpes Maritimes with their summits decked with snow. Now come with me round the terrace. Do you see that great isolated rock towards Nice, standing out all by itself surmounted by a great ivy-coloured castle? That is the castle of Eza. See how brown with age it looks, clothed with pellitory and ivy."

"When was it built, Henri?"

"It dates from the time of the Saracens at the beginning of the ninth century, just after the death of Charlemagne during the golden age of the great Haroun al Raschid."

"Look, Henri, at that immense bank of rhododendrons forming a crimson carpet above the Corniche road. What a feast of colour for a painter."

"Yes," said the professor, "and look at that ruined temple with its Doric pillars entwined with African ivy. There, don't you see it--just above the quaint village of Turbia, or La Turbie as it is generally called, between those two limestone peaks, high above the rocky promontory of Monaco, and close to the fearful precipices of the Tête du chien. That is the triumphal tower, or Trophaea, built by Augustus to commemorate his victory over the Ligurians, and which marked the boundary between Gaul and Italy. In its perfect condition it formed a magnificent tower crowned as it was by a statue of the Emperor over twenty feet high. It must have presented an imposing appearance when surrounded by the camp of the Roman legions. What a contrast between the turmoil of war, the marching to and fro of the soldiers, the clashing of arms in those days, and the peaceful single white street bordered by houses and inns on either side, as it exists to-day. Now only a mighty ruin remains to recall its former greatness."

"Oh, yes," said Renée, "I remember I read about it in Tennyson's _Daisy_."

"Why, Renée, what a memory you have!"

"Not at all, Henri. You see I knew I was going to the Riviera, so I read up all I could about the place; and now the places seem like old friends."

"That is the way to travel, it is the only way to enjoy the scenery."

"Where are we going when the rest of the party returns?" asked Renée.

"Do you see that steep stony path near the funicular railway leading down the hill from La Turbie?"

"Yes, I do quite well."

"Well, do you notice where it leads to?"

"Oh yes, it leads down to the rock covered with houses which I see to the East."

"That is Monaco. Down below on the West--you cannot see it from here--is the bathing beach of Condamine, and the chapel of Saint Devote, the patron saint of Monaco, and there on the rocky slopes of the Spelugues hard by to the north of the bay are grouped the various buildings of the Casino, surrounded by villas, beautiful gardens and hotels which are largely patronised by the players. That finely decorated building standing on the edge of the cliff by the gardens of St. Martin is the Oceanographic museum which is filled by the wonderful collection of marine products collected by the Prince of Monaco. A most interesting exhibit, I assure you, and one which I am never tired of visiting. But that is not what I have come here to see this time.

"Look," said the professor, continuing the conversation as he pointed to the Casino, "that is the sole object of our expedition, and when I have done my business there, I intend to return to Paris."

"But surely, professor, you are not going to waste your time in playing at the Casino?" said Payot and Renée in the same breath. "We never knew you gambled."

"I never gamble--when I play, I play with knowledge, and I intend to teach the Casino Company and their dupes a lesson which they will never forget, and I trust we shall all profit by it."

"You speak in enigmas, professor," said Payot.

"All truth is an enigma, sir," replied Delapine with a quiet and somewhat cynical smile, and at the same time throwing at Payot one of those piercing glances with which he so frequently electrified his audiences.

Renée looked at Delapine with her brown eyes filled with an enquiring look of wonderment, and then turned to her father to see what reply he would make, but Payot said nothing, he merely evaded a reply by tracing figures with his cane on the sand.

The professor sat down on a chair and became absorbed in deep thought. Renée looked alarmed, as she fancied he was about to go off in another trance. Suddenly he sprang up. "Excuse me," he said, "I perceive that our two friends Riche and Marcel are in trouble. I must go and rescue them," and without another word he donned his slouch hat and went out of the hotel grounds with rapid strides.

"What on earth is he up to?" said Payot.

"I can't imagine, but if Riche and Marcel are in trouble Henri will get them out of their mess. Didn't you hear him tell us he would?"

"But how on earth is he able to know when he is not there to see?"

"You must ask Henri that question," said Renée. "He will tell you."

It was a lovely winter's morning. The blue sky covered the deep sapphire blue of the Gulf of Genoa like a great turquoise dome painted here and there with long fleecy clouds, while the restless sea broke into tiny ripples as it lapped against the rocky cliffs of the shore, forming feathery waves like the white wings of the seagulls.

Marcel and Riche walked along the broad white carriage road, looking at the motor-cars and carriages as they rolled along with gaily dressed ladies, shading themselves with parasols of every colour. Here and there they encountered women from the country with bronzed, withered faces like Normandy pippins, carrying huge baskets to market balanced on their heads filled with fruit or vegetables. Then a score of noisy children ran pell mell across the road from the national school, shouting to each other as they ran with satchels on their backs filled with lesson books. A little further on a herd of goats obstructed the way, butting each other with their horns, or lingering at the roadside to nibble the herbage, while an Italian boy with bare feet ran hither and thither urging them forward with a stick, and calling his dog to assist him.

The road crossed deep gorges bordered with locust trees, pines and castania trees, while here and there were aged olive trees with their shrunken, gnarled and twisted trunks filled with the dust of years between the crevices of the bark. Wonderful limestone rocks towered up the hill on the left like mediæval ruined castles varying from a creamy white to pale lilac or deep crimson. At one spot a stream of clear water trickled down, besprinkling with its spray soft cushions of velvety moss embroidered with lichens, maiden-hair ferns, aspleniums, and the beautiful white star-like leucorium nicæense. Here and there bunches of convolvuli and cistuses unfolded their crimson and purple trumpets.

Further on the village of Roccabrunna could be seen nestling among the brown rocks and huge boulders which had fallen ages before, and become partly cemented to the hillside with undergrowth and soil. Capping the summit half hidden among the houses, the ruins of the mediæval castle of the Lascaris arrested his eye, surrounded by lemon and orange trees.

Now the road turns aside through the village of Monaco, and on the right he saw in front of him the bold promontory of Monaco rising three hundred and fifty feet above the sea, which washed three of its sides where they dipped almost perpendicularly into the blue waters. All the way along on either side were lovely villas surrounded by well-kept gardens filled with flowers of every hue and kind. Cacti, palms, aloes, camphor trees, monkey trees, citron and orange trees abounded, the latter filling the air with their fragrant perfume. In the largest gardens they observed numerous specimens of the cedar of Lebanon, flat-topped pines, arancarius, Californian pines--the whole contributing to make this spot a veritable garden of Eden.

At length they passed a large jeweller's shop with a magnificent display of diamond and ruby rings in a case in the window.

"See here," cried Marcel, "the very thing." He went in and asked to be allowed to inspect a selection of engagement rings. Having made his choice he became so engrossed with admiring the various objects of art that Riche, getting tired, told his friend that he would stroll slowly on, and bid him follow on after he had finished.

It was fully half an hour before Marcel had completed his inventory of the shop, when looking at his watch was surprised to find how time had slipped by. Hurrying out Marcel walked rapidly in the direction where he knew he would find his friend. He had not gone more than a mile when he suddenly heard a babel of voices, and to his surprise saw a large crowd surrounding a Piedmontese beggar holding a brown bear by a chain. The man was violently gesticulating at a gentleman who was trying to defend himself against the menaces of the crowd, and was struggling with two gendarmes who appeared anxious to arrest him.

"Hullo, Riche!" cried Marcel, running breathlessly up and pushing his way to him through the crowd. "What's up? What are they pulling you about for?"

"I saw this brute of an Italian belabouring his bear over the head with a stick, and pulling the chain until his nose was covered with blood, and my blood was up, so I gave the fellow a taste of the beating that he had given the bear, and then the gendarmes, hearing the row, came up and arrested me."

Riche struggled with the gendarmes, tried to get free, and twisting his leg between those of one of the gendarmes Jiu-Jitsu fashion, threw him on the ground.

Marcel flung himself on the officer, and Riche would have got free, but the second slipped a noose of whip-cord over Riche's wrist, and drawing it tight, twisted it with a bit of stick so violently that he almost fainted with the pain.

Marcel was struggling on the ground with the officer, when a third policeman pushed his way through the crowd, and they were promptly marched away as prisoners towards the gendarmerie, followed by a crowd of idlers.

"What have those Allemands done?" cried a workman in a blouse, to his boon companion who was smoking the filthy stump of a cigarette.

"Ma foi, the rascals have been caught pocket-picking--serve them jolly well right too. I saw them do it. Come, comrade, we will give evidence and get them well lodged in the Violon. Ils sont des sacr--res Allemands."

At this moment a carriage and pair came dashing up, and a footman arrayed in gorgeous livery descended from his perch and opened the door. A general, magnificently attired in full dress uniform with a row of orders on his breast, stepped out, carrying his head proudly in the air, and looking for all the world like one of the old heroes of Gravelotte with his venerable-looking white locks and greyish white beard and moustache. The crowd made way for him and cheered as he marched with a firm military step towards the struggling prisoners.

"Halt!" he cried in a voice of thunder, as the gendarmes, petrified with astonishment, stood at attention immediately and saluted him.

"What are you doing with those two gentlemen?" he demanded in an imperious tone.

"We are taking them to the gendarmerie for assaulting this Piedmontese with his bear, and for violently resisting us while we were performing our duty in arresting him. One of them threw my comrade on to the ground and would have killed him had not a third member of the force arrived."

"I command you to release them immediately. Are you aware that they happen to be particular friends of mine, and belong to the Embassy? I shall hold you all three responsible for this. Give me your names at once. Do you hear me?" he said, as he stamped his foot on the ground with impatience as they hesitated to obey him.

Trembling with fear they wrote their names and numbers on a card, and handed it to him.

"Now go," he cried, "and take care not to touch my friends again, or beware----" and he shook a warning finger at them.

The three gendarmes stepped back a couple of paces, saluted, and then turning round speedily became lost in the crowd.

"Now step into my carriage," said the General as the footman opened the door for the two guests.

As soon as they were seated the General ordered the coachman to turn back and drive at full speed. Riche and Marcel stared at the General, and then looked at each other for an explanation.

"Whom have we the honour of addressing?" they both asked.

"General Alfieri, Commander of the Grand Cordon of the Order of Savoy, very much at your service, gentlemen."

"Accept our humble and most sincere thanks, General. We cannot thank you sufficiently both for your well-timed help, and for your extreme courtesy and attention."

"I accept your thanks, and request you to give me the pleasure of your company to lunch. Where may you be staying?"

"At the Hotel des Anglais, Beaulieu."

"Coachman, drive to the Hotel des Anglais, these gentlemen may desire to alight in order to arrange their toilette."

Riche and Marcel were more astonished than ever. "General Alfieri," they whispered to each other. "Who on earth could he be--some Italian General of high rank evidently. But what could he be doing in the territory of the Prince of Monte Carlo, which does not belong to Italy, and how could he possibly know us?"

In a few minutes they arrived at the hotel, and all three descended.

"Pray step in," said the General, "and I will follow directly."

As Riche and Marcel entered the hall the General stepped up to the coachman, and handing him a bank note dismissed him.

"Now, gentlemen, pray retire to your rooms, and when you are ready you will find me waiting for you in the hall."

As soon as Riche and Marcel had retired to their rooms, the General entered his, and after completing his ablutions and exchanging his military clothes for a civilian costume he returned to the hall. A few minutes later Riche and Marcel came down the stairs together.

"I say, professor, where have you sprung from?" said Marcel. "By the way, have you noticed a General in full uniform in the hotel?"

"No, I've seen no military man at all here, but I happened to notice a General in full uniform drive up to the front and enter the hotel. He was a fine, venerable looking man with white hair and a greyish white moustache and beard."

"That's the gentleman we want. You have described him exactly. But where has he gone to?" they enquired eagerly.

"I can't imagine. I only know that I heard him order the coachman to drive away, as he would not be wanted again."

"Surely, professor, you must be mistaken," replied

Marcel, "as the General not only got us out of a terrible scrape, but was kind enough to drive us here and actually invited us to lunch. In fact he bid us remove the traces of our scrimmage with those beastly gendarmes who tried to arrest us, and then meet him here in the hall."

"If he had not been so kind in the first instance," added Riche, "I should have imagined that he was playing us a joke."

"But why suggest such things?" said Delapine. "If he said he would wait for you here, he must be here."

"Please do not jest like this, professor, it is too serious a thing, we must go and look for him at once."

"Are you sure that it is necessary to do that?" said Delapine.

"What do you mean?" they both asked.

"I mean what I say. The General kept his word, and is waiting on you now."

"Where, where?" and Riche and Marcel looked up and down the passages in vain.

"Why, here, you silly chaps. Can't you recognise me?" and Delapine gave a merry twinkle with his eyes.

"What! You don't mean to say that you were the General?"

"Why not?" said the professor, turning his back to them and quickly donning his false beard and moustache and wig. "Now look at me," said he, turning round and saluting them.

"If this isn't just the top hole," said Marcel and Riche in a duet. "Whoever would have thought of it, but tell us, how did you manage to know where we were?"

"Oh! that was simplicity itself. I watched you both going out, and then I fell into one of those dreamy states in which my subliminal or other-self rises above the threshold--as Meyers used to say--and then this other-self, partly freed from my animal body, has greatly increased powers, which enables me to perceive things which are entirely invisible to the eye, since psychic sight is affected by altogether different laws from those which govern ordinary vision, and moreover it is quite independent of distance. The moment I fell into my hypnotic reverie, I saw Marcel sauntering along the Corniche in the direction of Monaco with my mind sight as clearly as I see you now, and I watched him half kill the Italian with his stick for maltreating a bear, and suspecting what would happen I hurriedly left the hotel, borrowed a General's uniform, pinned on all the second-hand orders I could lay my hands on, and telephoned immediately for the most expensive carriage and pair in the place. At the same time I telephoned to the Metropole at Monte Carlo for two footmen in livery. They climbed up on to the box-seat and I got into the carriage, and the one whom I selected as coachman drove as fast as possible to the spot where I knew I should meet you--and here we are," said the professor with a beaming smile. "Come, gentlemen, let me take you to lunch, as I promised you in the carriage. I think our good friends Beaupaire and Payot, as well as the ladies are expecting us."

"Great Scott!" whispered Marcel to Riche, "Mephistopheles is a fool beside our professor."