HD WIDENER
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HW KYSR
MR.
GREX
MONTE
CARLO
E.PHILLIPS
OPPENHEIM


22447.11.46

TAS)
HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY


Gift of The People of the United States
Through the Victory Book Campaign
(A. Li A. - A. A. C.-U..0:
To the Armed Forces and Merchant Martin
VIO





MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO









She leaned across and with trembling fingers backed number
fourteen en plein. FRONTISPIECE. See page 257.


MR. GREX OF
MONTE CARLO
BY
E. PHILLIPS OPPENIJELM
AUTHOR OF "TAE VAVISHED MESSENGER,"
"A PLOPLE'S MAN," "TUE MBUSHIEF MAKER"
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
WILL GREFE

NON REFERT
ZSVELYHOSONOS
EQVAM.MVLTOSA
.
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1915



.
. vil trembling fingers barkeid number
,- pirer. FRONTISPIECE. Sie page 257.


MR. GREX OF
MONTE CARLO
BY
E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
AUTHOR OF “THE VANISHED MESSENGER,”
“A PEOPLE'S MAN,” “THE MISCHIEF MAKER "
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
WILL GREFÉ

BONOS.HABEASZ
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1915


22447.11.46
HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY
Copyright, 1915,
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
All rights reserved
Published January, 1915
Reprinted February, 1915
THE COLONIAL PRESS
C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. 8. A.


CONTENTS
CHAPTER
PAGE
I. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING . . . 1
II. BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN . . ..
III. A WARNING . . . . . . . 28
IV. ENTER THE AMERICAN . . .
V. “Who is Mr. Grex?” . . . . 49
VI. CAKES AND COUNSELS . . . . . 59
VII. THE EFFRONTERY OF RICHARD
VIII. UP THE MOUNTAIN . . . . . 77
IX. In the Mists . . . . . . . 85
X. Signs of TROUBLE . . . . . . 100
XI. Hints to HunterLEYS . . . . 111
XII. “I CANNOT Go!” . . . . . . 124
XIII. Miss GREX AT HOME . . . . . 133
XIV. Dinner FOR Two . . . . . 147
XV. INTERNATIONAL Politics. . . . 159
XVI. A BARGAIN WITH JEAN Coulois. . 171
XVII. DUTY INTERFERES AGAIN . . . . 182
XVIII. A MidniGHT CONFERENCE . . . 190
XIX. “ TAKE ME AWAY!” . . . . . 200
XX. Wily MR. DRACONMEYER . . . . 212
XXI. ASSASSINATION! . . . . . . . 219
XXII. The Wrong MAN . . . . . . 225
XXIII. Trouble BREWING . . . . . . 234


vi
· CONTENTS
PAGE
289
CHAPTER
XXIV. HUNTERLEYS Scents MURDER . . 241
XXV. DRACONMEYER IS DESPERATE . . . 250
XXVI. EXTRAORDINARY LOVE-MAKING . . 259
XXVII. PLAYING FOR High STAKES . . . 270
XXVIII. TO THE VILLA MIMOSA . . . . 280
XXIX. For His COUNTRY . . . .
XXX. “SUPPOSING I TAKE THIS MONEY” . 296
XXXI. NEARING A Criss . . . . . 305
XXXII. AN INTERESTING MEETING . . . 316
XXXIII. The Fates ARE Kind . . . . . 325
XXXIV. COFFEE FOR ONE Only . . . . 337
XXXV. A New MAP OF THE EARTH - . . 345
XXXVI. CHECKMATE! . . . . . . . 354
XXXVII. AN AMAZING ELOPEMENT . . . . 362
XXXVIII. HONEYMOONING . . . . . . 368


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
She leaned across and with trembling fingers
backed number fourteen en plein . Frontispiece
“For the last time, then — to Monte Carlo!” Page 25
“Come on, you fellows!” he shouted . . . " 92
“What we ask of France is that she looks the
other way” . . . . . . . "
“ That two hundred shall be five hundred, but
it must be a cemetery to which they take
him!” . . . . . . .
.
. .
“ 179
Mr. Grex, with his daughter and Lady Hunter-
leys on one side and Monsieur Douaille on
the other, were in the van . . . " 316





2 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
and wonder. And then the change came. He saw
a woman standing almost exactly opposite to him
at the nearest roulette table, and he gave a notice-
able start. For a moment his pale, expressionless
face was transformed, his secret was at any one's
mercy. That, however, was the affair of an instant
only. He was used to shocks and he survived this
one. He moved a little on one side from his promi-
nent place in the centre of the wide-flung doorway.
He stood by one of the divans and watched.
She was tall and fair and slight. She wore a
high-necked gown of shimmering grey, a black hat,
under which her many coils of hair shone like gold,
and a necklace of pearls around her throat, pearls
on which his eyes had rested with a curious expres-
sion. She played, unlike many of her neighbours,
with restraint, yet with interest, almost enthusiasm.
There was none of the strain of the gambler about
her smooth, beautiful face. Her delicately curved
lips were free from the grim lines of concentrated
acquisitiveness. She was thirty-two years old but
she looked much younger as she stood there, her lips
a little parted in a pleased smile of anticipation.
She was leaning a little over the table and her eyes
were fixed with humorous intentness upon the spin-
ning wheel. Even amongst that crowd of beautiful
women she possessed a certain individual distinction.
She not only looked what she was — an English-
woman of good birth — but there was a certain deli-
cate aloofness about her expression and bearing
which gave an added charm to a personality which
seemed to combine the two extremes of provocative-
ness and reserve. One would have hesitated to ad-


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
dress to her even the chance remarks which pass so
easily between strangers around the tables.
“ Violet here!” the man murmured under his
breath. “ Violet !”
There was tragedy in the whisper, a gleam of
something like tragedy, too, in the look which passed
between the man and the woman a few moments later.
With her hands full of plaques which she had just
won, she raised her eyes at last from the board. The
smile upon her lips was the delighted smile of a girl.
And then, as she was in the act of sweeping her
winnings into her gold bag, she saw the man opposite.
The smile seemed to die from her lips; it appeared,
indeed, to pass with all else of expression from her
face. The plaques dropped one by one through her
fingers, into the satchel. Her eyes remained fixed
upon him as though she were looking upon a ghost.
The seconds seemed drawn out into a grim hiatus
of time. The croupier's voice, the muttered im-
precation of a loser by her side, the necessity of
making some slight movement in order to allow the
passage of an arm from some one in search of change
— some such trifle at last brought her back from the
shadows. Her expression became at once more nor-
mal. She did not remove her eyes but she very
slightly inclined her head towards the man. He, in
return, bowed very gravely and without a smile.
The table in front of her was cleared now.
People were beginning to consider their next coup.
The voice of the croupier, with his parrot-like cry,
travelled down the board.
“ Faites vos jeux, mesdames et messieurs.”
The woman made no effort to stake. After a


4
MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
moment's hesitation she yielded up her place, and
moving backwards, seated herself upon an empty
divan. Rapidly the thoughts began to form them-
selves in her mind. Her delicate eyebrows drew
closer together in a distinct frown. After that first
shock, that queer turmoil of feeling, beyond analysis,
yet having within it some entirely unexpected con-
stituent, she found herself disposed to be angry.
The sensation had not subsided when a moment or
two later she was conscious that the man whose com-
ing had proved so disturbing was standing before her.
“Good afternoon,” he said, a little stiffly.
She raised her eyes. The frown was still upon
her forehead, although to a certain extent it was
contradicted by a slight tremulousness of the lips.
“Good afternoon, Henry!”
For some reason or other, further speech seemed
to him a difficult matter. He moved towards the
vacant place.
“If you have no objection,” he observed, as he
seated himself.
She unfurled her fan — an ancient but wonderful
weapon of defence. It gave her a brief respite.
Then she looked at him calmly.
“ Of all places in the world,” she murmured, “ to
meet you here!”
“ Is it so extraordinary?”
“I find it so,” she admitted." You don't at all
fit in, you know. A scene like this,” she added,
glancing around, “would scarcely ever be likely to
attract you for its own sake, would it?”
“ It doesn't particularly," he admitted.
“ Then why have you come?"


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
5
He remained silent. The frown upon her forehead
deepened.
“ Perhaps,” she went on coldly, “I can help you
with your reply. You have come because you are
not satisfied with the reports of the private detec-
tive whom you have engaged to watch me. You have
come to supplement them by your own investiga-
tion.”
His frown matched hers. The coldness of his
tone was rendered even more bitter by its note of
anger.
“I am surprised that you should have thought
me capable of such an action,” he declared. “ All I
can say is that it is thoroughly in keeping with your
other suspicions of me, and that I find it absolutely
unworthy.”
She laughed a little incredulously, not altogether
naturally.
“My dear Henry,” she protested, “I cannot
flatter myself that there is any other person in the
world sufficiently interested in my movements to
have me watched.”
“ Are you really under the impression that that is
the case? ” he enquired grimly.
“It isn't a matter of impression at all,” she re-
torted. “ It is the truth. I was followed from
London, I was watched at Cannes, I am watched here
day by day — by a little man in a brown suit and
a Homburg hat, and with a habit of lounging. He
lounges under my windows, he is probably lounging
across the way now. He has lounged within fifty
yards of me for the last three weeks, and to tell you
the truth I am tired of him. Couldn't I have a


6 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
week's holiday? I'll keep a diary and tell you all
that you want to know.”
“Is it sufficient,” he asked, “ for me to assure you,
upon my word of honour, that I know nothing of
this? "
She was somewhat startled. She turned and
looked at him. His tone was convincing. He had
not the face of a man whose word of honour was a
negligible thing.
“But, Henry,” she protested, “I tell you that
there is no doubt about the matter. I am watched
day and night — I, an insignificant person whose
doings can be of no possible interest save to you and
you only.”
The man did not at once reply. His thoughts
seemed to have wandered off for a moment. When
he spoke again, his tone had lost its note of resent-
ment.
“ I do not blame you for your suspicion,” he said
calmly, “ although I can assure you that I have
never had any idea of having you watched. It is
not a course which could possibly have suggested
itself to me, even in my most unhappy moments.”
She was puzzled — at once puzzled and inter-
ested.
“I am so glad to hear this,” she said, “and of
course I believe you, but there the fact is. I think
that you will agree with me that it is curious.”
“ Isn't it possible,” he ventured to suggest, “ that
it is your companions who are the object of this
man's vigilance? You are not, I presume, alone
here?”
She eyed him a little defiantly.


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 7
“ I am here,” she announced, “ with Mr. and Mrs.
Draconmeyer.”
He heard her without any change of expression,
but somehow or other it was easy to see that her
news, although more than half expected, had stung
him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Draconmeyer,” he repeated, with
slight emphasis on the latter portion of the sentence.
“ Certainly! I am sorry,” she went on, a mo-
ment late, “ that my companions do not meet with
your approval. That, however, I could scarcely ex-
pect, considering”
“ Considering what?” he insisted, watching her
steadfastly.
“ Considering all things,” she replied, after a mo-
ment's pause.
“Mrs. Draconmeyer is still an invalid ? "
“ She is still an invalid.”
The slightly satirical note in his question seemed
to provoke a certain defiance in her manner as she
turned a little sideways towards him. She moved
her fan slowly backwards and forwards, her head
was thrown back, her manner was almost belligerent.
He took up the challenge. He asked her in plain
words the question which his eyes had already de-
manded.
“I find myself constrained to ask you,” he said,
in a studiously measured tone, “ by what means you
became possessed of the pearls you are wearing? I
do not seem to remember them as your property."
Her eyes flashed.
“Don't you think,” she returned, “ that you are
a little outstepping your privileges ? "


8 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“Not in the least,” he declared. “ You are my
wife, and although you have defied me in a certain
matter, you are still subject to my authority. I
see you wearing jewels in public of which you were
certainly not possessed a few months ago, and which
neither your fortune nor mine —"
“Let me set your mind at rest,” she interrupted
icily. “The pearls are not mine. They belong to
Mrs. Draconmeyer.”
“Mrs. Draconmeyer!”
“I am wearing them,” she continued, “ at Linda's
special request. She is too unwell to appear in public
and she is very seldom able to wear any of her won-
derful jewelry. It gives her pleasure to see them
sometimes upon other people.”
He remained quite silent for several moments. He
was, in reality, passionately angry. Self-restraint,
however, had become such a habit of his that there
were no indications of his condition save in the
slight twitchings of his long fingers and a tightening
at the corners of his lips. She, however, recognised
the symptoms without difficulty.
“ Since you defy my authority,” he said, “ may
I ask whether my wishes have any weight with
you?”
“That depends,” she replied.
“ It is my earnest wish,” he went on, “ that you
do not wear another woman's jewelry, either in public
or privately."
She appeared to reflect for a moment. In effect
she was struggling against a conviction that his re-
quest was reasonable.
“I am sorry,” she said at last. “I see no harm


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
whatever in my doing so in this particular instance.
It gives great pleasure to poor Mrs. Draconmeyer
to see her jewels and admire them, even if she is un-
able to wear them herself. It gives me an intense
joy which even a normal man could scarcely be ex-
pected to understand; certainly not you. I am
sorry that I cannot humour you.”
He leaned towards her.
“Not if I beg you?”
She looked at him fixedly, looked at him as though
she searched for something in his face, or was ponder-
ing over something in his tone. It was a moment
which might have meant much. If she could have
seen into his heart and understood the fierce jealousy
which prompted his words, it might have meant a
very great deal. As it was, her contemplation ap-
peared to be unsatisfactory.
“I am sorry that you should lay so much stress
upon so small a thing,” she said. “You were al-
ways unreasonable. Your present request is another
instance of it. I was enjoying myself very much
indeed until you came, and now you wish to deprive
me of one of my chief pleasures. I cannot humour
you.”
He turned away. Even then chance might have
intervened. The moment her words had been spoken
she realised a certain injustice in them, realised a
little, perhaps, the point of view of this man who
was still her husband. She watched him almost
eagerly, hoping to find some sign in his face that it
was not only his stubborn pride which spoke. She
failed, however. He was one of those men who know
too well how to wear the mask.


10 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
my he shrus carlo
tod her shoull of hou should
“May I ask where you are staying here?” he
enquired presently.
“At the Hotel de Paris."
“ It is unfortunate,” he observed. “I will move
my quarters to-morrow.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“ Monte Carlo is full of hotels,” she remarked,
“ but it seems a pity that you should move. The
place is large enough for both of us.”
“ It is not long," he retorted, “ since you found
London itself too small. I should be very sorry to
spoil your holiday.”
Her eyes seemed to dwell for a moment upon the
Spanish dancer who sat at the table opposite them,
a woman whose name had once been a household
word, dethroned now, yet still insistent for notice
and homage; commanding them, even, with the wreck
of her beauty and the splendour of her clothes.
“ It seems a queer place, this,” she observed," for
domestic disagreements. Let us try to avoid dis-
putable subjects. Shall I be too inquisitive if I ask
you once more what in the name of all that is unsuita-
ble brought you to such a place as Monte Carlo?”
He fenced with her question. Perhaps he resented
the slightly ironical note in her tone. Perhaps there
were other reasons.
“Why should I not come to Monte Carlo? ” he
enquired. “Parliament is not particularly amusing
when one is in opposition, and I do not hunt. The
whole world amuses itself here.”
“ But not you,” she replied quickly. “I know
you better than that, my dear Henry. There is
nothing here or in this atmosphere which could


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING II
possibly attract you for long. There is no work
for you to do — work, the very breath of your body;
work, the one thing you live for and were made for;
work, you man of sawdust and red tape.”
“ Am I as bad as all that?” he asked quietly.
She fingered her pearls for a moment.
“Perhaps I haven't the right to complain,” she
acknowledged. “I have gone my own way always.
But if one is permitted to look for a moment into the
past, can you tell me a single hour when work was
not the prominent thought in your brain, the idol
before which you worshipped? Why, even our
honeymoon was spent canvassing!”
“ The election was an unexpected one,” he re-
minded her.
“ It would have been the same thing,” she declared.
“ The only literature which you really understand
is a Blue Book, and the only music you hear is the
chiming of Big Ben.”
“ You speak,” he remarked, “as though you
resented these things. Yet you knew before you
married me that I had ambitions, that I did not
propose to lead an idle life.”
“Oh, yes, I knew !” she assented drily. " But we
are wandering from the point. I am still wondering
what has brought you here. Have you come direct
from England ? "
He shook his head.
“I came to-day from Bordighera.”
“ More and more mysterious,” she murmured.
“ Bordighera, indeed! I thought you once told me
that you hated the Riviera.”
“So I do,” he agreed.


12 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ And yet you are here?”
“Yet I am here."
“And you have not come to look after me," she
went on," and the mystery of the little brown man
who watches me is still unexplained.”
“I know nothing about that person,” he asserted,
“ and I had no idea that you were here.”
“ Or you would not have come? ” she challenged
him.
“Your presence,” he retorted, nettled into for-
getting himself for a moment, “would not have
altered my plans in the slightest.”
“Then you have a reason for coming!” she ex-
claimed quickly.
He gave no sign of annoyance but his lips were
firmly closed. She watched him steadfastly.
“I wonder at myself no longer," she continued.
“I do not think that any woman in the world could
ever live with a man to whom secrecy is as great a
necessity as the very air he breathes. No wonder,
my dear Henry, the politicians speak so well of you,
and so confidently of your brilliant future!”
“I am not aware,” he observed calmly, “ that I
have ever been unduly secretive so far as you are
concerned. During the last few months, however,
of our life together, you must remember that you
chose to receive on terms of friendship a person whom
I regard __”
Her eyes suddenly flashed him a warning. He
dropped his voice almost to a whisper. A man was
approaching them.
“ As an enemy," he concluded, under his breath.


CHAPTER II
BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN
The newcomer, who had presented himself now be-
fore Hunterleys and his wife, was a man of somewhat
unusual appearance. He was tall, thickly-built, his
black beard and closely-cropped hair were streaked
with grey, he wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and he
carried his head a little thrust forward, as though,
even with the aid of his glasses, he was still short-
sighted. He had the air of a foreigner, although
his tone, when he spoke, was without accent. He
held out his hand a little tentatively, an action, how-
ever, which Hunterleys appeared to ignore.
“My dear Sir Henry!” he exclaimed. “This is
a surprise, indeed! Monte Carlo is absolutely the
last place in the world in which I should have ex-
pected to come across you. The Sporting Club, too!
Well, well, well! ”
Hunterleys, standing easily with his hands behind
his back, raised his eyebrows. The two men were
of curiously contrasting types. Hunterleys, slim
and distinguished, had still the frame of an athlete,
notwithstanding his colourless cheeks and the worn
lines about his eyes. He was dressed with extreme
simplicity. His deep-set eyes and sensitive mouth
were in marked contrast to the other's coarser mould
of features and rather full lips. Yet there was about


14 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
both men an air of strength, strength developed, per-
haps, in a different manner, but still an appreciable
quality.
“ They say that the whole world is here,” Hunter-
leys remarked. “Why may not I form a harmless
unit of it?”
“Why not, indeed ? ” Draconmeyer assented
heartily. “The most serious of us must have our
frivolous moments. I hope that you will dine with
us to-night? We shall be quite alone.”
Hunterleys shook his head.
“ Thank you,” he said, “ I have another engage-
ment pending.”
Mr. Draconmeyer was filled with polite regrets,
but he did not renew the invitation.
“When did you arrive? ” he asked.
“A few hours ago,” Hunterleys replied.
“ By the Luxe? How strange! I went down to
meet it."
“I came from the other side.”
66 Ah!”
Mr. Draconmeyer's ejaculation was interrogative,
Hunterleys hesitated for a moment. Then he con-
tinued with a little shrug of the shoulders.
“I have been staying at San Remo and Bor-
dighera.”
Mr. Draconmeyer was much interested.
“ So that is where you have been burying your-
self,” he remarked. “I saw from the papers that
you had accepted a six months' pair. Surely,
though, you don't find the Italian Riviera very amus-
ing?”
“I am abroad for a rest,” Hunterleys replied.


BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN
15
Mr. Draconmeyer smiled curiously.
“A rest? ” he repeated. “That rather belies
your reputation, you know. They say that you are
tireless, even when you are out of office.”
Hunterleys turned from the speaker towards his
wife.
“I have not tempted fortune myself yet,” he
observed. “I think that I shall have a look into
the baccarat room. Do you care to stroll that
way?”
Lady Hunterleys rose at once to her feet. Mr.
Draconmeyer, however, intervened. He laid his
fingers upon Hunterleys' arm.
“ Sir Henry," he begged, “our meeting has been
quite unexpected, but in a sense it is opportune.
Will you be good enough to give me five minutes' con-
versation?”
“With pleasure,” Hunterleys replied. “My time
is quite at your disposal, if you have anything to
say.”
Draconmeyer led the way out of the crowded room,
along the passage and into the little bar. They
found a quiet corner and two easy-chairs. Dracon-
meyer gave an order to a waiter. For a few mo-
ments their conversation was conventional
“I trust that you think your wife looking better
for the change?” Draconmeyer began. “Her com-
panionship is a source of great pleasure and relief
to my poor wife.”
“Does the conversation you wish to have with me
refer to Lady Hunterleys? ” her husband asked
quietly. “ If so, I should like to say a few pre-
liminary words which would, I hope, place the matter


16 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
at once beyond the possibility of any misunderstand-
ing."
Draconmeyer moved a little uneasily in his place.
“I have other things to say,” he declared, “ yet
I would gladly hear what is in your mind at the
present moment. You do not, I fear, approve of
this friendship between my wife and Lady Hunter-
leys."
Hunterleys was uncompromising, almost curt.
“I do not,” he agreed. “It is probably no secret
to you that my wife and I are temporarily estranged,”
he continued." The chief reason for that estrange-
ment is that I forbade her your house or your ac-
quaintance."
Draconmeyer was a little taken back. Such ex-
treme directness of speech was difficult to deal with.
“My dear Sir Henry," he protested, “ you dis-
tress me. I do not understand your attitude in this
matter at all.”
“ There is no necessity for you to understand it,"
Hunterleys retorted coolly. “I claim the right to
regulate my wife's visiting list. She denies that
right.”
“ Apart from the question of marital control,” Mr.
Draconmeyer persisted, “ will you tell me why you
consider my wife and myself unfit persons to find a
place amongst Lady Hunterleys' acquaintances? ”
“No man is bound to give the reason for his dis-
likes," Hunterleys replied. “Of your wife I know
nothing. Nobody does. I have every sympathy
with her unfortunate condition, and that is all. You
personally I dislike. I dislike my wife to be seen
with you, I dislike having her name associated with


BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN 17
yours in any manner whatsoever. I dislike sitting
with you here myself. I only hope that the five
minutes' conversation which you have asked for will
not be exceeded.”
Mr. Draconmeyer had the air of a benevolent per-
son who is deeply pained.
“ Sir Henry,” he sighed, “it is not possible for
me to disregard such plain speaking. Forgive me
if I am a little taken aback by it. You are known
to be a very skilful diplomatist and you have many
weapons in your armoury. One scarcely expected,
however — one's breath is a little taken away by
such candour.”
“I am not aware,” Hunterleys said calmly, “ that
the question of diplomacy need come in when one's
only idea is to regulate the personal acquaintances of
oneself and one's wife.”
Mr. Draconmeyer sat quite still for a moment,
stroking his black beard. His eyes were fixed upon
the carpet. He seemed to be struggling with a prob-
lem.
“You have taken the ground from beneath my
feet,” he declared. “Your opinion of me is such
that I hesitate to proceed at all in the matter which
I desired to discuss with you.”
“ That,” Hunterleys replied, " is entirely for you
to decide. I am perfectly willing to listen to any-
thing you have to say — all the more ready because
now there can be no possibility of any misunderstand-
ing between us."
“Very well,” Mr. Draconmeyer assented, “I will
proceed. After all, I am not sure that the personal
element enters into what I was about to say. I was


18 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
going to propose not exactly an alliance — that, of
course, would not be possible — but I was certainly
going to suggest that you and I might be of some
service to one another.”
“In what way?”
“I call myself an Englishman,” Mr. Draconmeyer
went on. “I have made large sums of money in
England, I have grown to love England and English
ways. Yet I came, as you know, from Berlin. The
position which I hold in your city is still the position
of president of the greatest German bank in the
world. It is German finance which I have directed,
and with German money I have made my fortune.
To be frank with you, however, after these many
years in London I have grown to feel myself very
much of an Englishman.”
Hunterleys was sitting perfectly still. His face
was rigid but expressionless. He was listening in-
tently.
“On the other hand,” Mr. Draconmeyer proceeded
slowly, “I wish to be wholly frank with you. At
heart I must remain always a German. The inter-
ests of my country must always be paramount. But
listen. In Germany there are, as you know, two
parties, and year by year they are drawing further
apart. I will not allude to factions. I will speak
broadly. There is the war party and there is the
peace party. I belong to the peace party. I be-
long to it as a German, and I belong to it as a
devoted friend of England, and if the threatened
conflict between the two should come, I should take
my stand as a peace-loving German-cum-English-
man against the war party even of my own country.”


BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN
19
Hunterleys still made no sign. Yet for one who
knew him it was easy to realise that he was listen-
ing and thinking with absorbed interest.
“ So far,” Draconmeyer pointed out, “ I have laid
my cards on the table. I have told you the solemn
truth. I regret that it did not occur to me to do
so many months ago in London. Now to proceed.
I ask you to emulate my frankness, and in return I
will give you information which should enable us
to work hand in hand for the peace which we both
desire.”
“ You ask me,” Hunterleys said thoughtfully, “ to
be perfectly frank with you. In what respect?
What is it that you wish from me?”
“ Not political information,” Mr. Draconmeyer
declared, his eyes blinking behind his glasses. “ For
that I certainly should not come to you. I only wish
to ask you a question, and I must ask it so that we
may meet on a common ground of confidence. Are
you here in Monte Carlo to look after your wife, or
in search of change of air and scene? Is that your
honest motive for being here? Or is there any other
reason in the world which has prompted you to come
to Monte Carlo during this particular month — I
might almost say this particular week?"
Hunterleys' attitude was that of a man who holds
in his hand a puzzle and is doubtful where to com-
mence in his efforts to solve it.
“ Are you not a little mysterious this afternoon,
Mr. Draconmeyer?” he asked coldly. “Or are you
trying to incite a supposititious curiosity? I really
cannot see the drift of your question."
“ Answer it,” Mr. Draconmeyer insisted.


20 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Hunterleys took a cigarette from his case, tapped
it upon the table and lit it in leisurely fashion.
“If you have any idea,” he said, “ that I came
here to confront my wife, or to interfere in any way
with her movements, let me assure you that you are
mistaken. I had no idea that Lady Hunterleys was
in Monte Carlo. I am here because I have a six
months' holiday, and a holiday for the average Eng-
lishman between January and April generally means,
as you must be aware, the Riviera. I have tried
Bordighera and San Remo. I have found them, as
I no doubt shall find this place, wearisome. In the
end I suppose I shall drift back to London.”
Mr. Draconmeyer frowned.
“ You left London,” he remarked tersely, “ on
December first. It is to-day February twentieth.
Do you wish me to understand that you have been at
Bordighera and San Remo all that time?”
“How did you know when I left London?” Hun-
terleys demanded.
Mr. Draconmeyer pursed his lips.
“ I heard of your departure from London entirely
by accident,” he said. “Your wife, for some reason
or other, declined to discuss your movements. I im-
agine that she was acting in accordance with your
wishes.”
“I see,” Hunterleys observed coolly. “And your
present anxiety is to know where I spent the inter-
vening time, and why I am here in Monte Carlo?
Frankly, Mr. Draconmeyer, I look upon this close
interest in my movements as an impertinence. My
travels have been of no importance, but they concern
myself only. I have no confidence to offer respect-
eu.


22 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
might be agreeable? Supposing I were to offer my
services as an intermediary? You would like to
bring about better relations with my country, would
you not, Sir Henry? You are admittedly a states-
man and an influential man in your Party. I am
only a banker, it is true, but I have been taken into
the confidence of those who direct the destinies of
my country.”
Hunterleys' face reflected none of the other's ear-
nestness. He seemed, indeed, a little bored, and he
answered almost irritably.
“I am much obliged to you,” he said, “ but Monte
Carlo seems scarcely the place to me for political
discussions, added to which I have no official posi-
tion. I could not receive or exchange confidences.
While my Party is out of power, there is nothing
left for us but to mark time. I dare say you mean
. well, Mr. Draconmeyer,” he added, rising to his
feet, “ but I am here to forget politics altogether, if
I can. If you will excuse me, I think I will look in at
the baccarat rooms.”
He was on the point of departure when through
the open doorway which communicated with the bac-
carat rooms beyond came a man of sufficiently ar-
resting personality, a man remarkably fat, with
close-cropped grey hair which stuck up like bristles
all over his head; a huge, clean-shaven face which
seemed concentrated at that moment in one tre-
mendous smile of overwhelming good-humour. He
held by the hand a little French girl, dark, small,
looking almost like a marionette in her slim tailor-
made costume. He recognised Draconmeyer with
enthusiasm.


BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN 23
“ My friend Draconmeyer,” he exclaimed, in sten-
torian tones, “ baccarat is the greatest game in the
world. I have won — I, who know nothing about it,
have won a hundred louis. It is amazing! There
is no place like this in the world. We are here to
drink a bottle of wine together, mademoiselle and I,
mademoiselle who was at once my instructress and
my mascot. Afterwards we go to the jeweler's.
Why not? A fair division of the spoils — fifty
louis for myself, fifty louis for a bracelet for
mademoiselle. And then "
He broke off suddenly. His gesture was almost
dramatic.
“I am forgotten!” he cried, holding out his hand
to Hunterleys,—“ forgotten already! Sir Henry,
there are many who forget me as a humble Minister
of my master, but there are few who forget me
physically. I am Selingman. We met in Berlin, six
years ago. You came with your great Foreign
Secretary.”
“I remember you perfectly,” Hunterleys assured
him, as he submitted to the newcomer's vigorous
handshake. “We shall meet again, I trust.”
Selingman thrust his arm through Hunterleys' as
though to prevent his departure.
“You shall not run away!” he declared. “I
introduce both of you -- Mr. Draconmeyer, the great
Anglo-German banker; Sir Henry Hunterleys, the
English politician — to Mademoiselle Estelle Nipon,
of the Opera House. Now we all know one another.
We shall be good friends. We will share that bottle
of champagne.”
“One bottle between four!” mademoiselle laughed,


24 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
poutingly. “And I am parched! I have taught
monsieur baccarat. I am exhausted.”
“A magnum!” Selingman ordered in a voice of
thunder, shaking his fist at the startled waiter.
“We seat ourselves here at the round table.
Mademoiselle, we will drink champagne together
until the eyes of all of us sparkle as yours do. We
will drink champagne until we do not believe that
there is such a thing as losing at games or in life.
We will drink champagne until we all four believe
that we have been brought up together, that we are
bosom friends of a lifetime. See, this is how we will
place ourselves. Mademoiselle, if the others make
love to you, take no notice. It is I who have put
fifty louis in one pocket for that bracelet. Do not
trust Sir Henry there; he has a reputation.”
As usual, the overpowering Selingman had his
way. Neither Draconmeyer nor Hunterleys at-
tempted to escape. They took their places at the
table. They drank champagne and they listened to
Selingman. All the time he talked, save when
mademoiselle interrupted him. Seated upon a chair
which seemed absurdly inadequate, his great stomach
with its vast expanse of white waistcoat in full view,
his short legs doubled up beneath him, he beamed
upon them all with a smile which never failed.
“ It is a wonderful place,” he declared, as he lifted
his glass for the fifth time. “We will drink to it,
this Monte Carlo. It is here that they come from
all quarters of the world — the ladies who charm
away our hearts,” he added, bowing to mademoiselle,
“ the financiers whose word can shake the money-
markets of the world, and the politicians who un-






“For the last time, then --- to Mon



Monte Carlo!”
Page 25.





BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN
25
bend, perhaps, just a little in the sunshine here,
however cold and inflexible they may be under their
own austere skies. For the last time, then — to
Monte Carlo! To Monte Carlo, dear mademoiselle!
– messieurs!”
They drank the toast and a few minutes later
Hunterleys slipped away. The two men looked
after him. The smile seemed gradually to leave
Selingman's lips, his face was large and impres-
sive.
“Run and fetch your cloak, dear,” he said to the
girl.
She obeyed at once. Selingman leaned across the
table towards his companion.
“What does Hunterleys do here?” he asked.
Draconmeyer shook his head.
“Who knows? ” he answered. “Perhaps he has
come to look after his wife. He has been to Bor-
dighera and San Remo."
“Is that all he told you of his movements ? "
“ That is all,” Draconmeyer admitted. “He was
suspicious. I made no progress."
“ Bordighera and San Remo!” Selingman mut-
tered under his breath. “ For a day, perhaps, or
two.”
“What do you know about him?” Draconmeyer
asked, his eyes suddenly bright beneath his spectacles.
“I have been suspicious ever since I met him, an hour
ago. He left England on December first.”
“It is true,” Selingman assented. “He crossed
to Paris, and — mark the cunning of it — he re-
turned to England. That same night he travelled
to Germany. We lost him in Vienna and found him


26 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
again in Sofia. What does it mean, I wonder?
What does it mean?”
“I have been talking to him for twenty minutes
in here before you came," Draconmeyer said. “I
tried to gain his confidence. He told me nothing.
He never even mentioned that journey of his."
Selingman was sitting drumming upon the table
with his broad fingertips.
“ Sofia!” he murmured. “And now — here!
Draconmeyer, there is work before us. I know men,
I tell you. I know Hunterleys. I watched him, I
listened to him in Berlin six years ago. He was with
his master then but he had nothing to learn from him.
He is of the stuff diplomats are fashioned of. He
has it in his blood. There is work before us, Dra-
conmeyer.”
“ If monsieur is ready!” mademoiselle interposed,
a little petulantly, letting the tip of her boa play
for a moment on his cheek.
Selingman finished his wine and rose to his feet.
Once more the smile encompassed his face. Of what
account, after all, were the wanderings of this melan-
choly Englishman! There was mademoiselle's brace-
let to be bought, and perhaps a few flowers. Seling-
man pulled down his waistcoat and accepted his grey
Homburg hat from the vestiaire. He held mademoi-
selle's fingers as they descended the stairs. He
looked like a school-boy of enormous proportions on
his way to a feast.
“We drank to Monte Carlo in champagne,” he
declared, as they turned on to the terrace and de-
scended the stone steps, “but, dear Estelle, we drink
to it from our hearts with every breath we draw of


BY ACCIDENT OR DESIGN
27
this wonderful air, every time our feet touch the
buoyant ground. Believe me, little one, the other
things are of no account. The true philosophy of
life and living is here in Monte Carlo. You and I
will solve it."


CHAPTER III
A WARNING
Hunterleys dined alone at a small round table,
set in a remote corner of the great restaurant at-
tached to the Hotel de Paris. The scene around him
was full of colour and interest. A scarlet-coated
band made wonderful music. The toilettes of the
women who kept passing backwards and forwards,
on their way to the various tables, were marvellous;
in their way unique. The lights and flowers of the
room, its appointments and adornments, all repre-
sented the last word in luxury. Everywhere was
colour, everywhere an almost strained attempt to im-
press upon the passerby the fact that this was no
ordinary holiday resort but the giant pleasure-
ground of all in the world who had money to throw
away and the capacity for enjoyment. Only once a
more somber note seemed struck when Mrs. Dracon-
meyer, leaning on her husband's arm and accom-
panied by a nurse and Lady Hunterleys, passed to
their table. Hunterleys' eyes followed the little
party until they had reached their destination and
taken their places. His wife was wearing black and
she had discarded the pearls which had hung around
her neck during the afternoon. She wore only a collar
of diamonds, his gift. Her hair was far less elaborately
coiffured and her toilette less magnificent than the


A WARNING
29
toilettes of the women by whom she was surrounded.
Yet as he looked from his corner across the room at
her, Hunterleys realised as he had realised instantly
twelve years ago when he had first met her, that she
was incomparable. There was no other woman in the
whole of that great restaurant with her air of quiet
elegance; no other woman so faultless in the smaller
details of her toilette and person. Hunterleys
watched with expressionless face but with anger
growing in his heart, as he saw Draconmeyer bend-
ing towards her, accepting her suggestions about the
dinner, laughing when she laughed, watching almost
humbly for her pleasure or displeasure. It was a
cursed mischance which had brought him to Monte
Carlo!
Hunterleys hurried over his dinner, and without
even going to his room for a hat or coat, walked
across the square in the soft twilight of an unusually
warm February evening and took a table outside the
Café de Paris, where he ordered coffee. Around him
was a far more cosmopolitan crowd, increasing every
moment in volume. Every language was being
spoken, mostly German. As a rule, such a gathering
of people was, in its way, interesting to Hunterleys.
To-night his thoughts were truant. He forgot his
strenuous life of the last three months, the dangers
and discomforts through which he had passed, the
curious sequence of events which had brought him,
full of anticipation, nerved for a crisis, to Monte
Carlo of all places in the world. He forgot that he
was in the midst of great events, himself likely to
take a hand in them. His thoughts took, rarely
enough for him, a purely personal and sentimental


30. MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
turn. He thought of the earliest days of his mar-
riage, when he and his wife had wandered about the
gardens of his old home in Wiltshire on spring even-
ings such as these, and had talked sometimes lightly,
sometimes seriously, of the future. Almost as he
sat there in the midst of that noisy crowd, he could
catch the faint perfume of hyacinths from the bor-
ders along which they had passed and the trimly-cut
flower-beds which fringed the deep green lawn. Al-
most he could hear the chiming of the old stable
clock, the clear note of a thrush singing. A puff of
wind brought them a waft of fainter odour from the
wild violets which carpeted the woods. Then the
darkness crept around them, a star came out. Hand
in hand they turned towards the house and into the
library, where a wood fire was burning on the grate.
His thoughts travelled on. A wave of tenderness
had assailed him. Then he was awakened by the
waiter's voice at his elbow.
“Le café, monsieur.”
He sat up in his chair. His dreaming moments
were few and this one had passed. He set his heel
upon that tide of weakening memories, sipped his
coffee and looked out upon the crowd. Three or
four times he glanced at his watch impatiently. Pre-
cisely at nine o'clock, a man moved from somewhere
in the throng behind and took the vacant chair by
his side.
“If one could trouble monsieur for a match!”
Hunterleys turned towards the newcomer as he
handed his matchbox. He was a young man of me-
dium height, with sandy complexion, a little freckled,
and with a straggling fair moustache. He had keen


32 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
found out for certain that they came at a moment's
notice and were not expecting to leave home at all.
Douaille will have full powers, and the conference will
take place at the Villa Mimosa. That will be the
headquarters of the whole thing. ... Look out, Sir
Henry. They've got their eyes on us. The little
fellow in brown, close behind, is hand in glove with
the police. They tried to get me into a row last
night. It's only my journalism they suspect, but
they'd shove me over the frontier at the least excuse.
They're certain to try something of the sort with
you, if they get any idea that we are on the scent.
Sit tight, sir, and watch. I'm off. You know where
to find me.”
The young man raised his hat and left Hunterleys
with the polite farewell of a stranger. His seat was
almost immediately seized by a small man dressed in
brown, a man with a black imperial and moustache
curled upwards. As Hunterleys glanced towards
him, he raised his Homburg hat politely and smiled.
“Monsieur's friend has departed?” he enquired.
“ This seat is disengaged? ”
“ As you see,” Hunterleys replied.
The little man smiled his thanks, seated himself
with a sigh of content and ordered coffee from a pass-
ing waiter.
“ Monsieur is doubtless a stranger to Monte
Carlo?"
“It is my second visit only,” Hunterleys admitted.
“For myself I am an habitué," the little man con-
tinued, “ I might almost say a resident. Therefore,
all faces soon become familiar to me. Directly I saw
monsieur, I knew that he was not a frequenter,"


A WARNING
33
Hunterleys turned a little in his chair and sur-
veyed his neighbour curiously. The man was neatly
dressed and he spoke English with scarcely any ac-
cent. His shoulders and upturned moustache gave
him a military appearance.
“ There is nothing I envy any one so much in life,”
he proceeded, “as coming to Monte Carlo for the
first or second time. There is so much to know, to
see, to understand.”
Hunterleys made no effort to discourage his com-
panion's obvious attempts to be friendly. The lat-
ter talked with spirit for some time.
“ If it would not be regarded as a liberty,” he said
at last, as Hunterleys rose to move off, “may I be
permitted to present myself? My name is Hugot?
I am half English, half French. Years ago my
health broke down and I accepted a position in a
bank here. Since then I have come in to money. If
I have a hobby in life, it is to show my beloved Monte
Carlo to strangers. If monsieur would do me the
honour to spare me a few hours to-night, later on, I
would endeavour to see that he was amused.”
Hunterleys shook his head. He remained, how-
ever, perfectly courteous. He had a conviction that
this was the man who had been watching his wife.
“You are very kind, sir,” he replied. “I am here
only for a few days and for the benefit of my health.
I dare not risk late hours. We shall meet again, I
trust."
He strolled off and as he hesitated upon the steps
of the Casino he glanced across towards the Hotel
de Paris. At that moment a woman came out, a
light cloak over her evening gown. She was followed


34 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
by an attendant. Hunterleys recognised his wife
and watched them with a curious little thrill. They
turned towards the Terrace. Very slowly he, too,
moved in the same direction. They passed through
the gardens of the Hotel de Paris, and Hunterleys,
keeping to the left, met them upon the Terrace
as they emerged. As they came near he accosted
them.
“ Violet,” he began.
She started.
“I beg your pardon," she said. “I did not recog-
nise you.”
“ Haven't you been told,” he asked stiffly, “ that
the Terrace is unsafe for women after twilight?”
“ Very often,” she assented, with that little smile
at the corners of her lips which once he had found so
charming and which now half maddened him. “Un-
fortunately, I have a propensity for doing things
which are dangerous. Besides, I have my maid.”
“ Another woman is no protection,” he declared.
“ Susanne can shriek,” Lady Hunterleys assured
him. “ She has wonderful lungs and she loves to use
them. She would shriek at the least provocation."
“ And meanwhile,” Hunterleys observed drily,
“ while she is indulging in her vocal exercises, things
happen. If you wish to promenade here, permit me
to be your escort.”
She hesitated for a moment, frowning. Then she
continued her walk.
“ You are very kind,” she assented. “Perhaps
you are like me, though, and feel the restfulness of a
quiet place after these throngs and throngs of peo-
ple.”


A WARNING
35
They passed slowly down the broad promenade,
deserted now save for one or two loungers like them-
selves, and a few other furtive, hurrying figures.
In front of them stretched an arc of glittering lights
- the wonderful Bay of Mentone, with Bordighera
on the distant sea-board; higher up, the twinkling
lights from the villas built on the rocky hills. And
at their feet the sea, calm, deep, blue, lapping the
narrow belt of hard sand, scintillating with the re-
flection of a thousand lights; on the horizon a blood-
red moon, only half emerged from the sea.
“ Since we have met, Henry," Lady Hunterleys
said at last, “ there is something which I should like
to say to you.”
“ Certainly!”
She glanced behind. Susanne had fallen dis-
creetly into the rear. She was a new importation
and she had no idea as to the identity of the tall,
severe-looking Englishman who walked by her mis-
tress's side.
“ There is something going on in Monte Carlo,"
Lady Hunterleys went on, “ which I cannot under-
stand. Mr. Draconmeyer knows about it, I believe,
although he is not personally concerned in it. But
he will tell me nothing. I only know that for some
reason or other your presence here seems to be an
annoyance to certain people. Why it should be I
don't know, but I want to ask you about it. Will
you tell me the truth? Are you sure that you did
not come here to spy upon me?"
“I certainly did not,” Hunterleys answered firmly.
“ I had no idea that you were near the place. If I
had ”


36 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
She turned her head. The smile was there once
more and a queer, soft light in her eyes.
“ If you had? ” she murmured.
“My visit here, under the present circumstances,
would have been more distasteful than it is,” Hunter-
leys replied stiffly.
She bit her lip and turned away. When she re-
sumed the conversation, her tone was completely
changed.
“I speak to you now," she said, “in your own in-
terests. Mr. Draconmeyer is, of course, not person-
ally connected with this affair, whatever it may be,
but he is a wonderful man and he hears many things.
To-night, before dinner, he gave me a few words of
warning. He did not tell me to pass them on to you
but I feel sure that he hoped I would. You would
not listen to them from him because you do not like
him. I am afraid that you will take very little more
heed of what I say, but at least you will believe that
I speak in your own interests. Mr. Draconmeyer
believes that your presence here is misunderstood.
A person whom he describes as being utterly without
principle and of great power is incensed by it. To
speak plainly, you are in danger.”
“I am flattered,” Hunterleys remarked, “by this
interest on my behalf.”
She turned her head and looked at him. His face,
in this cold light before the moon came up, was al-
most like the face of some marble statue, lifeless, set,
of almost stonelike severity. She knew the look so
well and she sighed.
“You need not be,” she replied bitterly. “Mine
is merely the ordinary feeling of one human creature


A WARNING
for another. In a sense it seems absurd, I suppose,
to speak to you as I am doing. Yet I do know that
this place which looks so beautiful has strange under-
currents. People pass away here in the most ortho-
dox fashion in the world, outwardly, but their real
ending is often never known at all. Everything is
possible here, and Mr. Draconmeyer honestly believes
that you are in danger."
They had reached the end of the Terrace and they
turned back.
“I thank you very much, Violet,” Hunterleys said
earnestly. “In return, may I say something to you?
If there is any danger threatening me or those inter-
ests which I guard, the man whom you have chosen
to make your intimate friend is more deeply con-
cerned in it than you think. I told you once before
that Draconmeyer was something more than the
great banker, the king of commerce, as he calls him-
self. He is ambitious beyond your imaginings, a
schemer in ways you know nothing of, and his resi-
dence in London during the last fifteen years has
been the worst thing that ever happened for England.
To me it is a bitter thing that you should have ig-
nored my warning and accepted his friendship —”
“ It is not Mr. Draconmeyer who is my friend,
Henry,” she interrupted. “You continually ignore
that fact. It is Mrs. Draconmeyer whom I cannot
desert. I knew her long before I did her husband.
We were at school together, and there was a time
before her last illness when we were inseparable."
“ That may have been so at first,” Hunterleys
agreed, “but how about since then? You cannot
deny, Violet, that this man Draconmeyer has in some


38 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
way impressed or fascinated you. You admire him.
You find great pleasure in his society. Isn't that the
truth, now, honestly? ”
Her face was a little troubled.
“I do certainly find pleasure in his society," she
admitted. “I cannot conceive any one who would
not. He is a brilliant, a wonderful musician, a de-
lightful talker, a generous host and companion. He
has treated me always with the most scrupulous re-
gard, and I feel that I am entirely reasonable in re-
senting your mistrust of him.”
“ You do resent it still, then ? "
“I do,” she asserted emphatically.
“ And if I told you,” Hunterleys went on, “ that
the man was in love with you. What then?”
“ I should say that you were a fool!”
Hunterleys shrugged his shoulders.
“ There is no more to be said,” he declared, “ only,
for a clever woman, Violet, you are sometimes woe-
fully or wilfully blind. I tell you that I know the
type. Sooner or later — before very long, I should
think — you will have the usual scene. I warn you
of it now. If you are wise, you will go back to Eng-
land.”
“ Absurd!” she scoffed. “Why, we have only
just come! I want to win some money — not that
your allowance isn't liberal enough,” she added has-
tily, “but there is a fascination in winning, you
know. And besides, I could not possibly desert Mrs.
Draconmeyer. She would not have come at all if I
had not joined them.”
“ You are the mistress of your own ways,” Hun-
terleys said. “ According to my promise, I shall at-


A WARNING
39
tempt to exercise no authority over you in any way,
but I tell you that Draconmeyer is my enemy, and
the enemy of all the things I represent, and I tell
you, too, that he is in love with you. When you
realise that these things are firmly established in my
brain, you can perhaps understand how thoroughly
distasteful I find your association with him here.
It is all very well to talk about Mrs. Draconmeyer,
but she goes nowhere. The consequence is that he
is your escort on every occasion. I am quite aware
that a great many people in society accept him. I
personally am not disposed to. I look upon him as
an unfit companion for my wife and I resent your
appearance with him in public."
“ We will discuss this subject no further,” she de-
cided. “From the moment of our first disagreement,
it has been your object to break off my friendship
with the Draconmeyers. Until I have something
more than words to go by, I shall continue to give
him my confidence.”
They crossed the stone flags in front of the Opera
together, and turned up towards the Rooms.
“I think, perhaps, then,” he said, “ that we may
consider the subject closed. Only,” he added, “ you
will forgive me if I still ”
He hesitated. She turned her head quickly. Her
eyes sought his but unfortunately he was looking
straight ahead and seeing gloomy things. If he had
happened to turn at that moment, he might have con-
cluded his speech differently.
“If I still exhibit some interest in your doings.”
“ I shall always think it most kind of you,” she
replied, her face suddenly hardening. “Have I not


40 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
done my best to reciprocate? I have even passed on
to you a word of warning, which I think you are
very unwise to ignore."
They were outside the hotel. Hunterleys paused.
“I have nothing to fear from the mysterious
source you have spoken of,” he assured her. “The
only enemy I have in Monte Carlo is Draconmeyer
himself.”
“Enemy!” she repeated scornfully. “Mr. Dra-
conmeyer is much too wrapped up in his finance, and
too big a man, in his way, to have enemies. Oh,
Henry, if only you could get rid of a few of your
prejudices, how much more civilised a human being
you would be!”
He raised his hat. His expression was a little
grim.
“ The man without prejudices, my dear Violet,”
he retorted," is a man without instincts. ... I wish
you luck.”
She ran lightly up the steps and waved her hand.
He watched her pass through the doors into the
hotel.


CHAPTER IV
·
ENTER THE AMERICAN
Lady Weybourne was lunching on the terrace of
Ciro's restaurant with her brother. She was small,
dark, vivacious. Her friends, of whom she had
thousands, all called her Flossie, and she was prob-
ably the most popular American woman who had
ever married into the English peerage. Her
brother, Richard Lane, on the other hand, was tall,
very broad-shouldered, with a strong, clean-shaven
face, inclined by disposition to be taciturn. On this
particular morning he had less even than usual to
say, and although Lady Weybourne, who was a
great chatterbox, was content as a rule to do most
of the talking for herself, his inattention became at
last a little too obvious. He glanced up eagerly as
every newcomer appeared, and his answers to his
sister's criticisms were sometimes almost at random.
“ Dicky, I'm not at all sure that I'm liking you
this morning,” she observed finally, looking across
at him with a critically questioning smile. “A cer-
tain amount of non-responsiveness to my advances
I can put up with — from a brother — but this
morning you are positively inattentive. Tell me
your troubles at once. Has Harris been bothering
you, or did you lose a lot of money last night?”
Considering that the young man's income was de-


ENTER THE AMERICAN
43
it would be just as well to know a little about before
you thought of taking them yachting.”
“ This one isn't that sort,” the young man said.
“ How do you know that? ” she asked, leaning
across the table, her head resting on her clasped
hands.
He looked at her almost contemptuously.
“ How do I know!” he repeated. “ There are
just one or two things that happen in this world
which a man can be utterly and entirely sure of.
She is one of them. Say, Flossie,” he added, the
enthusiasm creeping at last into his tone, “ you
never saw any one quite like her in all your life!”
“Do I know her, I wonder?” Lady Weybourne
enquired.
“ That's just what I've asked you here to find
out,” her brother replied ingenuously. “I heard
her tell the man she was with this morning -- her
father, I believe — about an hour ago, that she
would be at Ciro's at half-past one. It's twenty
minutes to two now.”
Lady Weybourne laughed heartily.
“ So that's why you dragged me out of bed and
made me come to lunch with you! Dick, what a
fraud you are! I was thinking what a dear, affec-
tionate brother you were, and all the time you were
just making use of me.”
" Sorry," the young man said briskly, “but, after
all, we needn't stand on ceremony, need we? I've
always been your pal; gave you a leg up with the
old man, you know, when he wasn't keen on the Brit-
ish alliance.”
She nodded.


44 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“Oh, I'll do what I can for you,” she promised.
“If she is any one in particular I expect I shall
know her. What's happening, Dick?”
The young man's face was almost transformed.
His eyes were bright and very fixed. His lips had
come together in a firm, straight line, as though he
were renewing some promise to himself. Lady Wey-
bourne followed the direction of his gaze. A man
and a girl had reached the entrance to the restaurant
and were looking around them as though to select
a table. The chief maître d'hôtel had hastened out
to receive them. They were, without doubt, people
of importance. The man was of medium height,
with iron-grey hair and moustache, and a small im-
perial. He wore light clothes of perfect cut; patent
shoes with white linen gaiters; a black tie fastened
with a pin of opals. He carried himself with an air
which was unmistakable and convincing. The girl
by his side was beautiful. She was simply dressed
in a tailor-made gown of white serge. Her black
hat was a miracle of smartness. Her hair was of a
very light shade of golden-brown, her complexion
wonderfully fair. Lady Weybourne glanced at her
shoes and gloves, at the bag which she was carrying,
and the handle of her parasol. Then she nodded
approvingly.
“ You don't know her?” Richard asked, in a dis-
appointed whisper.
She shook her head.
“ Sorry,” she admitted, “but I don't. They've
probably only just arrived."
With great ceremony the newcomers were con-
ducted to the best table upon the terrace. The man


ENTER THE AMERICAN
45
was evidently an habitué. He had scarcely taken
his seat before, with a very low bow, the sommelier
brought him a small wine-glass filled with what
seemed to be vermouth. While he sipped it he
smoked a Russian cigarette and with a gold pencil
wrote out the menu of his luncheon. In a few min-
utes the manager himself came hurrying out from
the restaurant. . His salute was almost reverential.
When, after a few moments' conversation, he de-
parted, he did so with the air of one taking leave of
royalty. Lady Weybourne, who was an inquisitive
little person, was puzzled.
“I don't know who they are, Dick," she con-
fessed, “but I know the ways of this place well, and
I can tell you one thing — they are people of impor-
tance. You can tell that by the way they are re-
ceived. These restaurant people don't make mis-
takes.”
“Of course they are people of importance,” the
young man declared. “Any one can see that by a
glance at the girl. I am sorry you don't know
them,” he went on, “but you've got to find out who
they are, and pretty quickly, too. Look here, Flos-
sie. I am a bit useful to you now and then,
aren't I?”
“ Without you, my dear Dick," she murmured,
“I should never be able to manage those awful
trustees. You are invaluable, a perfect jewel of a
brother.”
“ Well, I'll give you that little electric coupé you
were so keen on last time we were in London, if you'll
get me an introduction to that girl within twenty-
four hours."


46 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Lady Weybourne gasped.
“What a whirlwind !” she exclaimed. “ Dicky,
are you, by any chance, in earnest? ”
“In earnest for the first time in my life,” he as-
sured her. “Something has got hold of me which
I'm not going to part with.”
She considered him reflectively. He was twenty-
seven years of age, and notwithstanding the bound-
less opportunities of his youth and great wealth he
had so far shown an almost singular indifference to
the whole of the opposite sex, from the fascinating
chorus girls of London and New York to the no less
enterprising young women of his own order. As .
she sat there studying his features, she felt a sensa-
tion almost of awe. There was something entirely
different, something stronger in his face. She
thought for a moment of their father as she had
known him in her childhood, the founder of their
fortunes, a man who had risen from a moderate po-
sition to immense wealth through sheer force of will,
of pertinacity. For the first time she saw the same
look upon her brother's face.
“Well,” she sighed, “ I shall do my best to earn
it. I only hope, Dick, that she is —"
“She is what?” he demanded, looking at her
steadfastly.
“Oh! not engaged or anything, I mean,” Lady
Weybourne explained hastily. “I must admit,
Dick, although I don't suppose any sister is particu-
larly keen upon her brother's young women, that I
think you've shown excellent taste. She is abso-
lutely the best style of any one I've seen in Monte
Carlo."


ENTER THE AMERICAN 47
“ How are you going to manage that introduc-
tion?” he asked bluntly. “ Have you made any
plans? "
“I don't suppose it will be difficult,” she assured
him, lighting a cigarette and shaking her head at the
tray of liqueurs which the sommelier was offering.
“Get me some cream for my coffee, Dick. Now
I'll tell you," she continued, as the waiter disap-
peared. “You will have to call that under-maître
d'hôtel. You had better give him a substantial tip
and ask him quietly for their names. Then I'll see
about the rest.”
“ That seems sensible enough,” he admitted.
“ And look here, Dick,” she went on, “I know how
impetuous you are. Don't do anything foolish.
Remember this isn't an ordinary adventure. If you
go rushing in upon it you'll come to grief.”
“I know," he answered shortly. “I was fool
enough to hang about the flower shops and that mil-
liner's this morning. I couldn't help it. I don't
know whether she noticed. I believe she did. Once
our eyes did meet, and although I'll swear she never
changed her expression, I felt that the whole world
didn't hold so small a creature as I. Here comes
Charles. I'll ask him.”
He beckoned to the maître d'hôtel and talked for
a moment about the luncheon. Then he ordered a
table for the next day, and slipping a louis into the
man's hand, leaned over and whispered in his ear.
“I want you to tell me the name of the gentleman
and young lady who are sitting over there at the
corner table?"
The maître d'hôtel glanced covertly in the direc-


48 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
tion indicated. He did not at once reply. His
face was perplexed, almost troubled.
“I am very sorry, sir,” he said hesitatingly,“ but
our orders are very strict. Monsieur Ciro does not
like anything in the way of gossip about our clients,
and the gentleman is a very honoured patron. The
young lady is his daughter.”
“Quite right,” the young man agreed bluntly.
“ This isn't an ordinary case, Charles. You go
over to the desk there, write me down the name and
bring it, and there's a hundred franc note waiting
here for you. No need for the name to pass your
lips.”
The man bowed and retreated. In a few minutes
he came back again and laid a small card upon the
table.
“ Monsieur will pardon my reminding him,” he
begged earnestly, “but if he will be so good as to
never mention this little matter —”
Richard nodded and waved him away.
“ Sure!” he promised.
He drew the card towards him and looked at it in
a puzzled manner. Then he passed it to his sister.
Her expression, too, was blank.
“Who in the name of mischief," he exclaimed
softly, “is Mr. Grex !”


CHAPTER V
“ WHO IS MR. GREX? "
Lady Weybourne insisted, after a reasonable
amount of time spent over their coffee, that her
brother should pay the bill and leave the restaurant.
They walked slowly across the square.
“ What are you going to do about it? ” he asked.
“ There is only one thing to be done,” she replied.
“ I shall speak to every one I meet this afternoon —
I shall be, in fact, most sociable — and sooner or
later in our conversation I shall ask every one if
they know Mr. Grex and his daughter. When I
arrive at some one who does, that will be the first
step, won't it?”
“I wonder whether we shall see some one soon!”
he grumbled, looking around. “Where are all the
people to-day!”
She laughed softly.
“ Just a little impetuous, aren't you?”
“I should say so,” he admitted. “I'd like to be
introduced to her before four o'clock, propose to her
this evening, and — and —”
“And what?"
“Never mind,” he concluded, marching on with
his head turned towards the clouds. “Let's go and
sit down upon the Terrace and talk about her.”
“ But, my dear Dicky,” his sister protested, “I


50 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
don't want to sit upon the Terrace. I am going to
my dressmaker's across the way there, and after-
wards to Lucie's to try on some hats. Then I am
going back to the hotel for an hour's rest and to
prink, and afterwards into the Sporting Club at
four o'clock. That's my programme. I shall be
doing what I can the whole of the time. I shall
make discreet enquiries of my dressmaker, who knows
everybody, and I sha'n't let a single acquaintance
go by. You will have to amuse yourself till four
o'clock, at any rate. There's Sir Henry Hunterleys
over there, having coffee. Go and talk to him. He
may put you out of your misery. Thanks ever so
much for my luncheon, and au revoir !”
She turned away with a little nod. Her brother,
after a moment's hesitation, approached the table
where Hunterleys was sitting alone.
“ How do you do, Sir Henry?”
Hunterleys returned his greeting, a little blankly
at first. Then he remembered the young man and
held out his hand.
“Of course! You are Richard Lane, aren't you?
Sit down and have some coffee. What are you do-
ing here?”
“ I've got a little boat in the harbour,” Richard
replied, as he drew up a chair. “ I've been at Al-
giers for a time with some friends, and I've brought
them on here. Just been lunching with my sister.
Are you alone?”
Hunterleys hesitated.
“Yes, I am alone.”
“ Wonderful place," the young man went on.
“ Wonderful crowd of people here, too. I suppose
am alone.”, the young too. I sup


“WHO IS MR. GREX?”
51
you know everybody?” he added, warming up as he
approached his subject.
“ On the contrary,” Hunterleys answered, “ I am
almost a stranger here. I have been staying fur-
ther down the coast.”
“ Happen to know any one of the name of Grex ? ”
Lane asked, with elaborate carelessness.
Hunterleys made no immediate reply. He seemed
to be considering the name.
“Grex,” he repeated, knocking the ash from his
cigarette. “Rather an uncommon name, isn't it?
Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I've seen an elderly man and a young lady
about once or twice," Lane explained. “ Very in-
teresting-looking people. Some one told me that
their name was Grex.”
“ There is a person living under that name, I
think,” Hunterleys said, “ who has taken the Villa
Mimosa for the season."
“Do you know him personally? ” the young man
asked eagerly.
“Personally? No, I can scarcely say that I do."
Richard Lane sighed. It was disappointment
number one. For some reason or other, too, Hun-
terleys seemed disposed to change the conversation.
“ The young lady who is always with him,” Rich-
ard persisted, “ would that be his daughter?”
Hunterleys turned a little in his seat and surveyed
his questioner. He had met Lane once or twice and
rather liked him.
“Look here, young fellow,” he said, good humour-
edly, “ let me ask you a question for a change.
What is the nature of these enquiries of yours ? "


52 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Lane hesitated. Something in Hunterleys' face
and manner induced him to tell the truth.
“I have fallen head over heels in love with the
young lady,” he confessed. “Don't think I am a
confounded jackass. I am not in the habit of doing
such things. I'm twenty-seven and I have never
gone out of my way to meet a girl yet. This is
something — different. I want to find out about
them and get an introduction.”
Hunterleys shook his head regretfully.
“I am afraid,” he said, “ that I can be of no use
to you — no practical use, that is. I can only give
you one little piece of advice.”
“ Well, what is it? ” Richard asked eagerly.
“ If you are in earnest,” Hunterleys continued,
" and I will do you the credit to believe that you are,
you had better pack up your things, return to your
yacht and take a cruise somewhere."
“ Take a cruise somewhere!”
Hunterleys nodded.
“ Get out of Monte Carlo as quickly as you can,
and, above all, don't think anything more of that
young lady. Get the idea out of your head as
quickly as you can.”
The young man was sitting upright in his chair.
His manner was half minatory.
“ Say, what do you mean by this ? ” he demanded.
“ Exactly what I said just now,” Hunterleys re-
joined. “If you are in earnest, and I have no doubt
that you are, I should clear out.”
“ What is it you are trying to make me under-
stand? ” Richard asked bluntly.
“ That you have about as much chance with that


“WHO IS MR. GREX? ”
53
young lady,” Hunterleys assured him, “ as with that
very graceful statue in the square yonder.”
Richard sat for a moment with knitted brows.
“ Then you know who she is, any way?”
“ Whether I do or whether I do not,” the older
man said gravely, “ so far as I am concerned, the
subject is exhausted. I have given you the best ad-
vice you ever had in your life. It's up to you to
follow it.”
Richard looked at him blankly.
“ Well, you've got me puzzled,” he confessed.
Hunterleys rose to his feet, and, summoning a
waiter, paid his bill.
“ You'll excuse me, won't you?” he begged. “I
have an appointment in a few minutes. If you are
wise, young man,” he added, patting him on the
shoulder as he turned to go, “ you will take my ad-
vice.”
Left to himself, Richard Lane strolled around the
place towards the Terrace. He had no fancy for
the Rooms and he found a seat as far removed as
possible from the Tir du Pigeons. He sat there
with folded arms, looking out across the sun-dappled
sea. His matter-of-fact brain offered him but one
explanation as to the meaning of Hunterleys' words,
and against that explanation his whole being was
in passionate revolt. He represented a type of
young man who possesses morals by reason of a cer-
tain unsuspected idealism, mingled with perfect
physical sanity. It seemed to him, as he sat there,
that he had been waiting for this day for years.
The old nights in New York and Paris and London
floated before his memory. He pushed them on one


54 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
side with a shiver, and yet with a curious feeling of
exultation. He recalled a certain sensation which
had been drawn through his life like a thin golden
thread, a sensation which had a habit of especially
asserting itself in the midst of these youthful orgies,
a curious sense of waiting for something to happen,
a sensation which had been responsible very often
for what his friends had looked upon as eccentricity.
He knew now that this thing had arrived, and every-
thing else in life seemed to pale by the side of it.
Hunterleys' words had thrown him temporarily into
a strange turmoil. Solitude for a few moments he
had felt to be entirely necessary. Yet directly he
was alone, directly he was free to listen to his con-
victions, he could have laughed at that first mad
surging of his blood, the fierce, instinctive rebellion
against the conclusion to which Hunterleys' words
seemed to point. Now that he was alone, he was
not even angry. No one else could possibly under-
stand!
Before long he was once more upon his feet, start-
ing out upon his quest with renewed energy. He
had scarcely taken a dozen steps, however, when he
came face to face with Lady Hunterleys and Mr.
Draconmeyer. Quite oblivious of the fact that they
seemed inclined to avoid him, he greeted them both
with unusual warmth.
“Saw your husband just now, Lady Hunterleys,"
he remarked, a little puzzled. “I fancied he said
he was alone here.”
She smiled.
“We did not come together,” she explained; " in
fact, our meeting was almost accidental. Henry


“WHO IS MR. GREX?”
55
had been at Bordighera and San Remo and I came
out with Mr. and Mrs. Draconmeyer."
The young man nodded and turned towards Dra-
conmeyer, who was standing a little on one side as
though anxious to proceed.
“ Mr. Draconmeyer doesn't remember me, per-
haps. I met him at my sister's, Lady Weybourne's,
just before Christmas."
“I remember you perfectly,” Mr. Draconmeyer
assured him courteously. “We have all been
admiring your beautiful yacht in the harbour
there."
“I was thinking of getting up a little cruise be-
fore long," Richard continued. “If so, I hope
you'll all join us. Flossie is going to be hostess,
and the Montressors are passengers already."
They murmured something non-committal. Lady
Hunterleys seemed as though about to pass on but
Lane blocked the way.
“I only arrived the other day from Algiers," he
went on, making frantic efforts to continue the con-
versation. “I brought Freddy Montressor and his
sister, and Fothergill.”
“Mr. Montressor has come to the Hotel de Paris,"
Lady Hunterleys remarked. “What sort of weather
did you have in Algiers ? "
“Ripping!” the young man replied absently, en-
tirely oblivious of the fact that they had been driven
away by incessant rain. “ This place is much more
fun, though,” he added, with sudden inspiration.
“ Crowds of interesting people. I suppose you know
every one?"
Lady Hunterleys shook her head.


56 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ Indeed I do not. Mr. Draconmeyer here is my
guide. He is as good as a walking directory.”
“I wonder if either of you know some people
named Grex? ” Richard asked, with studious indiffer-
ence.
Mr. Draconmeyer for the first time showed some
signs of interest. He looked at their questioner
steadfastly.
“Grex," he repeated. “A very uncommon
name.”
“ Very uncommon-looking people,” Richard de-
clared." The man is elderly, and looks as though
he took great care of himself — awfully well turned
out and all that. The daughter is — good-look-
ing.”
Mr. Draconmeyer took off his gold-rimmed spec-
tacles and rubbed them with his handkerchief.
“Why do you ask? ” he enquired. “Is this just
curiosity?”
“Rather more than that,” Richard said boldly.
" It's interest.”
Mr. Draconmeyer readjusted his spectacles.
“Mr. Grex," he announced, “is a gentleman of
great wealth and illustrious birth, who has taken a
very magnificent villa and desires for a time to lead a
life of seclusion. That is as much as I or any one
else knows."
“What about the young lady? ” Richard per-
sisted.
“ The young lady,” Mr. Draconmeyer answered,
“ is, as you surmised, his daughter. . . . Shall we
finish our promenade, Lady Hunterleys? ”
Richard stood grudgingly a little on one side.


“WHO IS MR. GREX?”
57
“Mr. Draconmeyer,” he said desperately, “ do
you think there'd be any chance of my getting an
introduction to the young lady? "
Mr. Draconmeyer at first smiled and then began to
laugh, as though something in the idea tickled him.
He looked at the young man and Richard hated him.
“ Not the slightest in the world, I should think,”
he declared. “Good afternoon!”
Lady Hunterleys joined in her companion's amuse-
ment as they continued their promenade.
“Is the young man in love, do you suppose? ” she
enquired lightly.
“If so," her companion replied, “ he has made a
somewhat unfortunate choice. However, it really
doesn't matter. Love at his age is nothing more
than a mood. It will pass as all moods pass."
She turned and looked at him.
“ Do you mean,” she asked incredulously, “ that
youth is incapable of love?”
They had paused for a moment, looking out across
the bay towards the glittering white front of Bordi-
ghera. Mr. Draconmeyer took off his hat. Some-
how, without it, in that clear light, one realised, not-
withstanding his spectacles, his grizzled black beard
of unfashionable shape, his over-massive forehead
and shaggy eyebrows, that his, too, was the face of
one whose feet were not always upon the earth.
“ Perhaps," he answered, “it is a matter of de-
gree, yet I am almost tempted to answer your ques-
tion absolutely. I do not believe that youth can
love, because from the first it misapprehends the
meaning of the term. I believe that the gift of lov-
ing comes only to those who have reached the hills."


58 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
She looked at him, a little surprised. Always
thoughtful, always sympathetic, generally stimulat-
ing, it was very seldom that she had heard him speak
with so much real feeling. Suddenly he turned his
head from the sea. His eyes seemed to challenge
hers.
“ Your question,” he continued, “ touches upon
one of the great tragedies of life. Upon those who
are free from their youth there is a great tax levied.
Nature has decreed that they should feel something
which they call love. They marry, and in this small
world of ours they give a hostage as heavy as a mill-
stone of their chances of happiness. For it is only
in later life, when a man has knowledge as well as
passion, when unless he is fortunate it is too late,
that he can know what love is.”
She moved a little uneasily. She felt that some-
thing was coming which she desired to avoid, some
confidence, something from which she must escape.
The memory of her husband's warning was vividly
present with her. She felt the magnetism of her
companion's words, his compelling gaze.
“ It is so with me,” he went on, leaning a little
towards her, “ only in my case —”
Providence was intervening. Never had the swish
of a woman's skirt sounded so sweet to her before.
“ Here's Dolly Montressor,” she interrupted,
“coming up to speak to us.”


CHAPTER VI
CAKES AND COUNSELS
The Sporting Club seemed to fill up that after-
noon almost as soon as the doors were opened. At
half-past four, people were standing two or three
deep around the roulette tables. Selingman, very
warm, and looking somewhat annoyed, withdrew him-
self from the front row of the lower table, and tak-
ing Mr. Grex and Draconmeyer by the arm, led
them towards the tea-room.
“I have lost six louis !” he exclaimed, fretfully.
“I have had the devil's own luck. I shall play no
more for the present. We will have tea together."
They appropriated a round table in a distant cor-
ner of the restaurant.
“ History," Selingman continued, heaping his
plate with rich cakes, “ has been made before now in
strange places. Why not here? We sit here in
close touch with one of the most interesting phases
of modern life. We can even hear the voice of fate,
the click of the little ball as it finishes its momentous
journey and sinks to rest. Why should we, too, not
speak of fateful things?”
Mr. Draconmeyer glanced around.
“For myself,” he muttered, “I must say that I
prefer a smaller room and a locked door."


60 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Selingman demolished a chocolate éclair and shook
his head vigorously.
“ The public places for me,” he declared. “ Now
look around. There is no one, as you will admit,
within ear-shot. Very well. What will they say,
those who suspect us, if they see us drinking tea and
eating many cakes together? Certainly not that
we conspire, that we make mischief here. On the
other hand, they will say. There are three great men
at play, come to Monte Carlo to rest from their la-
bours, to throw aside for a time the burden from
their shoulders; to flirt, to play, to eat cakes. It
is a good place to talk, this, and I have something
in my mind which must be said.”
Mr. Grex sipped his pale, lemon-flavoured tea and
toyed with his cigarette-case. He was eating noth-
ing.
“ Assuming you to be a man of sense, my dear
Selingman,” he remarked, “I think that what you
have to say is easily surmised. The Englishman!”
Selingman agreed with ponderous emphasis.
“We have before us,” he declared, “ a task of un-
usual delicacy. Our friend from Paris may be here
at any moment. How we shall fare with him, heaven
only knows! But there is one thing very certain.
At the sight of Hunterleys he will take alarm. He
will be like a frightened bird, all ruffled feathers.
He will never settle down to a serious discussion.
Hunterleys knows this. That is why he presents
himself without reserve in public, why he is sur-
rounded with Secret Service men of his own country,
all on the qui vive for the coming of Douaille.”
“It appears tolerably certain,” Mr. Draconmeyer


CAKES AND COUNSELS 61
said calmly, “ that we must get rid of Hunter-
leys."
Mr. Grex looked out of the window for a moment.
“ To some extent,” he observed, “I am a stranger
here. I come as a guest to this conference, as our
other friend from Paris comes, too. Any small task
which may arise from the necessities of the situation,
devolves, I think I may say without unfairness, upon
you, my friend.”
Selingman assented gloomily.
“ That is true,” he admitted, “but in Hunterleys
we have to do with no ordinary man. He does not
gamble. To the ordinary attractions of Monte
Carlo he is indifferent. He is one of these thin-
blooded men with principles. Cromwell would have
made a lay preacher of him.”
“You find difficulties ? " Mr. Grex queried, with
slightly uplifted eyebrows.
“Not difficulties,” Selingman continued quickly.
“ Or if indeed we do call them difficulties, let us say
at once that they are very minor ones. Only the
thing must be done neatly and without ostentation,
for the sake of our friend who comes.”
“My own position,” Mr. Draconmeyer intervened,
“ is, in a way, delicate. The unexplained disappear-
ance of Sir Henry Hunterleys might, by some peo-
ple, be connected with the great friendship which ex-
ists between my wife and his.”
Mr. Grex polished his horn-rimmed eyeglass. Sel-
ingman nodded sympathetically. Neither of them
looked at Draconmeyer. Finally Selingman heaved
a sigh and brushed the crumbs from his waistcoat.
“If one were assured,” he murmured thoughtfully,


62 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
" that Hunterleys' presence here had a real signifi-
cance "
Draconmeyer pushed his chair forward and leaned
across the table. The heads of the three men were
close together. His tone was stealthily lowered.
“Let me tell you something, my friend Selingman,
which I think should strengthen any half-formed in-
tention you may have in your brain. Hunterleys is
no ordinary sojourner here. You were quite right
when you told me that his stay at Bordighera and
San Remo was a matter of days only. Now I will
tell you something. Three weeks ago he was at
Bukharest. He spent two days with Novisko. From
there he went to Sofia. He was heard of in Athens
and Constantinople. My own agent wrote me that
he was in Belgrade. Hunterleys is the bosom friend
of the English Foreign Secretary. That I know for
myself. You have your reports. You can read be-
tween the lines. I tell you that Hunterleys is the
man who has paralysed our action amongst the Bal-
kan States. He has played a neat little game out
there. It is he who was the inspiration of Rouma-
nia. It is he who drafted the secret understanding
with Turkey. The war which we hoped for will not
take place. From there Hunterleys came in a gun-
boat and landed on the Italian coast. He lingered
at Bordighera for appearances only. He is here, if
he can, to break up our conference. I tell you that
you none of you appreciate this man. Hunterleys is
the most dangerous Englishman living -—".
“ One moment," Selingman interrupted. “To
some extent I follow you, but when you speak of
Hunterleys as a power in the present tense, doesn't it


CAKES AND COUNSELS 63
occur to you that his Party is not in office? He is
simply a member of the Opposition. If his Party
get in again at the next election, I grant you that
he will be Foreign Minister and a dangerous one, but
to-day he is simply a private person."
“ It is not every one,” Mr. Draconmeyer said
slowly, “who bows his knee to the shibboleth of
party politics. Remember that I come to you from
London and I have information of which few others
are possessed. Hunterleys is of the stuff of which
patriots are made. Party is no concern of his.
He and the present Foreign Secretary are the
greatest of personal friends. I know for a fact that
Hunterleys has actually been consulted and has
helped in one or two recent crises. The very cir-
cumstance that he is not of the ruling Party makes
a free lance of him. When his people are in power,
he will have to take office and wear the shackles.
To-day, with every quality which would make him
the greatest Foreign Minister England has ever had
since Disraeli, he is nothing more nor less than a
roving diplomatist, Emperor of his country's Secret
Service, if you like to put it so. Furthermore, look
a little into that future of which I have spoken.
The present English Government will last, at the
most, another two years. I tell you that when they
go out of power, whoever comes in, Hunterleys will
go to the Foreign Office. We shall have to deal
with a man who knows, a man —”
“I am not wholly satisfied with these éclairs,"
Selingman interrupted, gazing into the dish.
“ Maître d'hôtel, come and listen to an awful com-
plaint,” he went on, and, addressing one of the head-


64 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
waiters. “Your éclairs are too small, your cream-
cakes too irresistible. I eat too much here. How,
I ask you in the name of common sense, can a man
dine who takes tea here! Bring the bill.”
The man, smiling, hastened away. Not a word
had passed between the three, yet the other two
understood the situation perfectly. Hunterleys and
Richard Lane had entered the room together and
were seated at an adjoining table. Selingman
plunged into a fresh tirade, pointing to the half-
demolished plateful of cakes.
“I will eat one more,” he declared. “We will
bilk the management. The bill is made out. I shall
not be observed. Our friend," he continued, under
his breath,“ has secured a valuable bodyguard, some-
thing very large and exceedingly powerful.”
Draconmeyer hesitated for a moment. Then he
turned to Mr. Grex.
“ You have perhaps observed," he said, “ the
young man who is seated at the next table. It may
amuse you to hear of a very extraordinary piece
of impertinence of which, only this afternoon, he
was guilty. He accosted me upon the Terrace —
he is a young American whom I have met in Lon-
don — and asked me for information respecting a
Mr. and Miss Grex.”
Mr. Grex looked slowly towards the speaker.
There was very little change in his face, yet Dra-
conmeyer seemed in some way confused.
“ You will understand, I am sure, sir," he con-
tinued, a little hastily, “ that I was in no way to
blame for the question which the young man ad-
dressed to me. He had the presumption to enquire


CAKES AND COUNSELS 65
whether I could procure for him an introduction to
the young lady whom he knew as Miss Grex. Even
at this moment,” Draconmeyer went on, lowering
his voice, “he is trying to persuade Hunterleys to
let him come over to us.”
“ The young man,” Mr. Grex said deliberately,
“is ignorant. If necessary, he must be taught his
lesson.”
Selingman intervened. He breathed a heavy
sigh.
“Well,” he observed, “I perceive that the task
at which we have hinted is to fall upon my shoulders.
We must do what we can. I am a tender-hearted
man, and if extremes can be avoided, I shall like my
task better. ... And now I have changed my mind.
The loss of that six louis weighs upon me. I shall
endeavour to regain it. Let us go.”
They rose and passed out into the roulette rooms.
Richard Lane, who remained in his seat with an ef-
fort, watched them pass with a frown upon his face.
“Say, Sir Henry,” he complained, “I don't quite
understand this. Why, I'd only got to go over to
Draconmeyer there and stand and talk for a mo-
ment, and he must have introduced me.”
Hunterleys shook his head.
“Let me assure you,” he said, “ that Draconmeyer
would have done nothing of the sort. For one thing,
we don't introduce over here as a matter of course,
as you do in America. And for another — well, I
won't trouble you with the other reason. ... Look
here, Lane, take my advice, there's a sensible fellow.
I am a man of the world, you know, and there are
certain situations in which one can make no mistake.


CHAPTER VII
THE EFFRONTERY OF RICHARD
Hunterleys took leave of his companion as soon as
they arrived at the roulette rooms.
“Take my advice, Lane,” he said seriously.
“ Find something to occupy your thoughts. Throw
a few hundred thousand of your dollars away at the
tables, if you must do something foolish. You'll
get into far less trouble.”
Richard made no direct reply. He watched Hun-
terleys depart and took up his place opposite the
door to await his sister's arrival. It was a quarter
to five before she appeared and found him waiting
for her in the door-way.
“ Say, you're late, Flossie!” he grumbled. “I
thought you were going to be here soon after four.”
She glanced at the little watch upon her wrist.
“ How the time does slip away!” she sighed.
“But really, Dicky, I am late in your interests as
much as anything. I have been paying a few calls.
I went out to the Villa Rosa to see some people who
almost live here, and then I met Lady Crawley and
she made me go in and have some tea.”
“ Well? ” he asked impatiently. “ Well? ”
She laid her fingers upon his arm and drew him
into a less crowded part of the room.
“ Dicky,” she confessed, “I don't seem to have


68 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
had a bit of luck. The Comtesse d'Hausson, who
lives at the Villa Rosa, knows them and showed me
from the window the Villa Mimosa, where they live,
but she would tell me absolutely nothing about them.
The villa is the finest in Monte Carlo, and has al-
ways been taken before by some one of note. She
declares that they do not mix in the society of the
place, but she admits that she has heard a rumour
that Grex is only an assumed name.”
“I begin to believe that myself,” he said doggedly.
“ Hunterleys knows who they are and won't tell me.
So does that fellow Draconmeyer.”
“ Sir Henry and Mr. Draconmeyer!” she repeated,
raising her eyes. “My dear Dick, that doesn't
sound very reasonable, does it?”
“I tell you that they do,” he persisted. “They
as good as told me so. Hunterleys, especially, left
me here only half-an-hour ago, and his last words
were advising me to chuck it. He's a sensible chap
enough but he won't even tell me why. I've had
enough of it. I've a good mind to take the bull by
the horns myself. Mr. Grex is here now, somewhere
about. He was sitting with Mr. Draconmeyer and a
fat old German a few minutes ago, at the next table
to ours. If I had been alone I should have gone up
and chanced being introduced, but Hunterleys
wouldn't let me.”
“Well, so far,” Lady Weybourne admitted, “I
fear that I haven't done much towards that electric
coupé; but,” she added, in a changed tone, looking
across the tables, “ there is just one thing, Dicky.
Fate sometimes has a great deal to do with these
little affairs. Look over there."


THE EFFRONTERY OF RICHARD 69
Richard left his sister precipitately, without even
a word of farewell. She watched him cross the room,
and smiled at the fury of a little Frenchman whom
he nearly knocked over in his hurry to get round to
the other side of the table. A moment later he was
standing a few feet away from the girl who had
taken so strange a hold upon his affections. He
himself was conscious of a curious and unfamiliar
nervousness. Physically he felt as though he had
been running hard. He set his teeth and tried to
keep cool. He found some plaques in his pocket and
began to stake. Then he became aware that the
girl was holding in her hand a note and endeavour-
ing to attract the attention of the man who was giv-
ing change.
“ Petite monnaie, s'il vous plaît," he heard her
say, stretching out the note.
The man took no notice. Richard held out his
hand.
“ Will you allow me to get it changed for you?”
he asked.
Her first impulse at the sound of his voice was evi-
dently one of resentment. She seemed, indeed, in
the act of returning some chilling reply. Then she
glanced half carelessly towards him and her eyes
rested upon his face. Richard was good-looking
enough, but the chief characteristic of his face was
a certain honesty, which seemed accentuated at that
moment by his undoubted earnestness. The type
was perhaps strange to her. She was almost startled
by what she saw. Scarcely knowing what she did,
she allowed him to take the note from her fingers.
“ Thank you very much," she murmured,


70 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Richard procured the change. He would have
lifted every one out of the way if she had been in a
hurry. Then he turned round and counted it very
slowly into her hands. From the left one she had
removed the glove and he saw, to his relief, that
there was no engagement ring there. He counted
so slowly that towards the end she seemed to be-
come a little impatient.
“ That is quite all right,” she said. “ It was
very kind of you to trouble.”
She spoke very correct English with the slightest
of foreign accents. He looked once more into her
eyes.
“It was a pleasure," he declared.
She smiled faintly, an act of graciousness which
absolutely turned his head. With her hand full of
plaques, she moved away and found a place a little
lower down the table. Richard fought with his first
instinct and conquered it. He remained where he
was, and when he moved it was in another direction.
He went into the bar and ordered a whisky and
soda. He was as excited as he had been in the old
days when he had rowed stroke in a winning race
for his college boat. He felt, somehow or other,
that the first step had been a success. She had
been inclined at first to resent his offer. She had
looked at him and changed her mind. Even when
she had turned away, she had smiled. It was
ridiculous, but he felt as though he had taken a
great step. Presently Lady Weybourne, on her
way to the baccarat rooms, saw him sitting there
and looked in.
“ Well, Dicky,” she exclaimed, “ what luck?"


THE EFFRONTERY OF RICHARD 71
“ Sit down, Flossie,” he begged. “ I've spoken to
her.”
“You don't mean,” she began, horrified.
“Oh, no, no! Nothing of that sort !” he inter-
rupted. “ Don't think I'm such a blundering ass.
She was trying to get change and couldn't reach.
I took the note from her, got the change and gave
it to her. She said, “Thank you. When she went
away, she smiled.”
Lady Weybourne flopped down upon the divan
and screamed with laughter.
“ Dicky,” she murmured, wiping her eyes, “ tell
me, is that why you are sitting there, looking as
though you could see right into Heaven? Do you
know that your face was one great beam when I
came in? "
“ Can't help it,” he answered contentedly. “ I've
spoken to her and she smiled.”
Lady Weybourne opened her gold bag and pro-
duced a card.
“Well,” she said, “here is another chance for
you. Of course, I don't know that it will come to
anything, but you may as well try your luck."
“ What is it? ” he asked.
She thrust a square of gilt-edged cardboard into
his hand.
“ It's an invitation,” she told him, “ from the di-
rectors, to attend a dinner at La Turbie Golf Club-
house, up in the mountains, to-night. It isn't en-
tirely a joke, I can tell you. It takes at least an
hour to get there, climbing all the way, and the
place is as likely as not to be wrapped in clouds, but
a great many of the important people are going,


72 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
and as I happened to see Mr. Grex's name amongst
the list of members, the other night, there is always
a chance that they may be there. If not, you see,
you can soon come back.”
“ I'm on,” Richard decided. “Give me the ticket.
I am awfully obliged to you, Flossie.”
“If she is there,” Lady Weybourne declared,
rising, “ I shall consider that it is equivalent to one
wheel of the coupé.”
“ Have a cocktail instead,” he suggested.
She shook her head.
“ Too early. If we meet later on, I'll have one.
What are you going to do? ”
“ Same as I've been doing ever since lunch,” he
answered,—" hang around and see if I can meet any
one who knows them.”
She laughed and hurried off into the baccarat
room, and Richard presently returned to the table
at which the girl was still playing. He took par-
ticular care not to approach her, but he found a
place on the opposite side of the room, from which
he could watch her unobserved. She was still stand-
ing and apparently she was losing her money. Once,
with a little petulant frown, she turned away and
moved a few yards lower down the room. The first
time she staked in her new position, she won, and a
smile which it seemed to him was the most brilliant he
had ever seen, parted her lips. He stood there look-
ing at her, and in the midst of a scene where money
seemed god of all things, he realised all manner of
strange and pleasant sensations. The fact that he
had twenty thousand francs in his pocket to play
with, scarcely occurred to him. He was watching a


THE EFFRONTERY OF RICHARD 73
little wisp of golden hair by her ear, watching her
slightly wrinkled forehead as she leaned over the
table, her little grimace as she lost and her stake
was swept away. She seemed indifferent to all by-
standers. It was obvious that she had very few
acquaintances. Where he stood it was not likely
that she would notice him, and he abandoned him-
self wholly to the luxury of gazing at her. Then
some instinct caused him to turn his head. He felt
that he in his turn was being watched. He glanced
towards the divan set against the wall, by the side
of which he was standing. Mr. Grex was seated
there, only a few feet away, smoking a cigarette.
Their eyes met and Richard was conscious of a
sudden embarrassment. He felt like a detected thief,
and he acted at that moment as he often did — en-
tirely on impulse. He leaned down and resolutely
addressed Mr. Grex.
“I should be glad, sir, if you would allow me to
speak to you for a moment."
Mr. Grex's expression was one of cold surprise,
unmixed with any curiosity.
“Do you address me?” he asked.
His tone was vastly discouraging but it was too
late to draw back.
“ I should like to speak to you, if I may,” Richard
continued.
“I am not aware,” Mr. Grex said, “ that I have
the privilege of your acquaintance.”
“ You haven't,” Richard admitted, “but all the
same I want to speak to you, if I may.”
“ Since you have gone so far," Mr. Grex conceded,
“ you had better finish, but you must allow me to


74 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
tell you in advance that I look upon any address
from a perfect stranger as an impertinence.”
“You'll think worse of me before I've finished,
then,” Richard declared desperately. “You don't
mind if I sit down?”
“ These seats," Mr. Grex replied coldly, “are
free to all.”
The young man took his place upon the divan
with a sinking heart. There was something in Mr.
Grex's tone which seemed to destroy all his con-
fidence, a note of something almost alien in the
measured contempt of his speech.
“I am sorry to give you any offence,” Richard
began. “I happened to notice that you were watch-
ing me. I was looking at your daughter — staring
at her. I am afraid you thought me impertinent."
“Your perspicuity," Mr. Grex observed,“ seems
to be of a higher order than your manners. You
are, perhaps, a stranger to civilised society? "
“I don't know about that,” Richard went on
doggedly. “I have been to college and mixed with
the usual sort of people. My birth isn't much to
speak of, perhaps, if you count that for anything."
Something which was almost like the ghost of a
smile, devoid of any trace of humour, parted Mr.
Grex's lips.
“If I count that for anything!” he repeated,
half closing his eyes for a moment. “Pray proceed,
young man.”
“I am an American,” Richard continued. “My
name is Richard Lane. My father was very wealthy
and I am his heir. My sister is Lady Weybourne.
I was lunching with her at Ciro's to-day when I saw


THE EFFRONTERY OF RICHARD 75
you and your daughter. I think I can say that I
am a respectable person. I have a great many
friends to whom I can refer you.”
“I am not thinking of engaging anybody, that I
know of," Mr. Grex murmured.
“I want to marry your daughter,” Richard de-
clared desperately, feeling that any further form of
explanation would only lead him into greater trouble.
Mr. Grex knocked the ash from his cigarette.
“ Is your keeper anywhere in the vicinity?” he
asked.
“ I am perfectly sane,” Richard assured him. “I
know that it sounds foolish but it isn't really. I
am twenty-seven years old and I have never asked
a girl to marry me yet. I have been waiting un-
til _"
The words died away upon his lips. It was im-
possible for him to continue, the cold enmity of this
man was too chilling.
“I am absolutely in earnest,” he insisted. “I
have been endeavouring all day to find some mutual
friend to introduce me to your daughter. Will you
do so? Will you give me a chance? "
“I will not,” Mr. Grex replied firmly.
“Why not? Please tell me why not?” Richard
begged. “I am not asking for anything more now
than just an opportunity to talk with her.”
“ It is not a matter which admits of discussion,"
Mr. Grex pronounced. “I have permitted you
to say what you wished, notwithstanding the colossal,
the unimaginable impertinence of your suggestion.
I request you to leave me now and I advise you
most heartily to indulge no more in the most pre-


76 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
posterous and idiotic idea which ever entered into
the head of an apparently sane young man.”
Richard rose slowly to his feet.
.“ Very well, sir,” he replied, “I'll go. All the
same, what you have said doesn't make any differ-
ence.”
“Does not make any difference? " Mr. Grex re-
peated, with arched eyebrows.
“None at all,” Richard declared. “I don't know
what your objection to me is, but I hope you'll get
over it some day. I'd like to make friends with
you. Perhaps, later on, you may look at the matter
differently.”
“ Later on?” Mr. Grex murmured.
“When I have married your daughter,” Richard
concluded, marching defiantly away.
Mr. Grex watched the young man until he had
disappeared in the crowd. Then he leaned back
amongst the cushions of the divan with folded arms.
Little lines had become visible around his eyes, there
was a slight twitching at the corners of his lips. He
looked like a man who was inwardly enjoying some
huge joke.


CHAPTER VIII
UP THE MOUNTAIN
Richard, passing the Hotel de Paris that evening
in his wicked-looking grey racing car, saw Hunter-
leys standing on the steps and pulled up.
“ Not going up to La Turbie, by any chance?”
he enquired.
Hunterleys nodded.
“ I'm going up to the dinner,” he replied. “ The
hotel motor is starting from here in a few minutes."
“ Come with me,” Richard invited.
Hunterleys looked a little doubtfully at the long,
low machine.
“ Are you going to shoot up? ” he asked. “It's
rather a dangerous road.”
“I'll take care of you," the young man promised.
“ That hotel 'bus will be crammed.”
They glided through the streets on to the broad,
hard road, and crept upwards with scarcely a sound,
through the blue-black twilight. Around and in
front of them little lights shone out from the villas
and small houses dotted away in the mountains.
Almost imperceptibly they passed into a different
atmosphere. The air became cold and exhilarating.
The flavour of the mountain snows gave life to the
breeze. Hunterlcys buttoned up his coat but bared
his head.


78 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“My young friend,” he said, “ this is wonderful.”
“ It's a great climb,” Richard assented, “and
doesn't she just eat it up!”
They paused for a moment at La Turbie. Below
them was a chain of glittering lights fringing the
Bay of Mentone, and at their feet the lights of the
Casino and Monte Carlo flared up through the
scented darkness. Once more they swung upwards.
The road now had become narrower and the turn-
ings more frequent. They were up above the region
of villas and farmhouses, in a country which seemed
to consist only of bleak hillside, open to the winds,
wrapped in shadows. Now and then they heard
the tinkling of a goat bell; far below they saw the
twin lights of other ascending cars. They reached
the plateau at last and drew up before the club-
house, ablaze with cheerful lights.
“I'll just leave the car under the trees,” Richard
declared. “No one will be staying late.”
Hunterleys unwound his scarf and handed his
coat and hat to a page-boy. Then he stood sud-
denly rigid. He bit his lip. His wife had just
issued from the cloak-room and was drawing on her
gloves. She saw him and hesitated. She, too,
turned a little paler. Slowly Hunterleys ap-
proached her.
“ An unexpected pleasure,” he murmured.
“I am here with Mr. Draconmeyer,” she told him,
almost bluntly.
Hunterleys bowed.
“ And a party? " he enquired.
“No," she replied. “I really did not want to
come. Mr. Draconmeyer had promised Monsieur


UP THE MOUNTAIN
79
Pericot, the director here, to come and bring Mrs.
Draconmeyer. At the last moment, however, she
was not well enough, and he almost insisted upon my
taking her place.”
“ Is it necessary to explain? ” Hunterleys asked
quietly. “You know very well how I regard this
friendship of yours.”
“I am sorry,” she said. “If I had known that
we were likely to meet — well, I would not have come
here to-night.”
“ You were at least considerate,” he remarked
bitterly. “May I be permitted to compliment you
upon your toilette?”
“ As you pay for my frocks,” she answered, “ there
is certainly no reason why you shouldn't admire
them.”
He bit his lip. There was a certain challenge in
her expression which made him, for a moment, feel
weak. She was a very beautiful woman and she was
looking her best. He spoke quickly on another sub-
ject.
“ Are you still,” he asked, “ troubled by the at-
tentions of the person you spoke to me about?”
“ I am still watched,” she replied drily.
“I have made some enquiries,” Hunterleys con-
tinued, “ and I have come to the conclusion that you
are right.”
“And you still tell me that you have nothing to
do with it?"
“I assure you, upon my honour, that I have noth-
ing whatever to do with it.”
It was obvious that she was puzzled, but at that
moment Mr. Draconmeyer presented himself. The


80 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
newcomer simply bowed to Hunterleys and addressed
some remark about the room to Violet. Then
Richard came up and they all passed on into the
reception room, where two or three very fussy but
very suave and charming Frenchmen were receiving
the guests. A few minutes afterwards dinner was
announced. A black frown was upon Richard's fore-
head.
“She isn't coming!” he muttered. “I say, Sir
Henry, you won't mind if we leave early?”
“I shall be jolly glad to get away,” Hunterleys
assented heartily.
Then he suddenly felt a grip of iron upon his
arm.
“She's come !” Richard murmured ecstatically.
“ Look at her, all in white! Just look at the colour
of her hair! There she is, going into the reception
room. Jove! I'm glad we are here, after all!”
Hunterleys smiled a little wearily. They passed
on into the salle à manger. The seats at the long
dining-tables were not reserved, and they found a
little table for two in a corner, which they annexed.
Hunterleys was in a grim humour, but his companion
was in the wildest spirits. Considering that he was
placed where he could see Mr. Grex and his daughter
nearly the whole of the time, he really did contrive
to keep his eyes away from them to a wonderful
extent, but he talked of her unceasingly.
“Say, I'm sorry for you, Sir Henry!” he de-
clared. “It's just your bad luck, being here with
me while I've got this fit on, but I've got to talk
to some one, so you may as well make up your
mind to it. There never was anything like that


UP THE MOUNTAIN
81
girl upon the earth. There never was anything like
the feeling you get," he went on, “ when you're ab-
solutely and entirely convinced, when you know —
that there's just one girl who counts for you in the
whole universe. Gee whiz! It does get hold of you!
I suppose you've been through it all, though.”
“ Yes, I've been through it!” Hunterleys admitted,
with a sigh.
The young man bit his lip. The story of Hun-
terleys' matrimonial differences was already being
whispered about. Richard talked polo vigorously
for the next quarter of an hour. It was not
until the coffee and liqueurs arrived that they re-
turned to the subject of Miss Grex. Then it was
Hunterleys himself who introduced it. He was be-
ginning to rather like this big, self-confident young
man, so full of his simple love affair, so absolutely
honest in his purpose, in his outlook upon life.
“ Lane," he said, “I have given you several hints
during the day, haven't I?”.
“ That's so,” Richard agreed. “You've done
your best to head me off. So did my future father-
in-law. Sort of hopeless task, I can assure you."
Hunterleys shook his head.
“Honestly,” he continued, “I wouldn't let myself
think too much about her, Lane. I don't want to
explain exactly what I mean. There's no real rea-
son why I shouldn't tell you what I know about Mr.
Grex, but for a good many people's sakes, it's just
as well that those few of us who know keep quiet.
I am sure you trust me, and it's just the same, there-
fore, if I tell you straight, as man to man, that
you're only laying up for yourself a store of un-


UP THE MOUNTAIN
83
“ that all foreign noblemen are not what they are
represented to be in your comic papers. Austrian
and Russian men of high rank are most of them very
highly cultivated, very accomplished, and very good-
looking. You don't know much of the world, do
you? It's a pretty formidable enterprise to come
from a New York office, with only Harvard behind
you, and a year or so's travel as a tourist, and enter
the list against men who have had twice your oppor-
tunities. I am talking to you like this, young fel-
low, for your good. I hope you realise that.
You're used to getting what you want. That's be-
cause you've been brought up in a country where
money can do almost anything. I am behind the
scenes here and I can assure you that your money
won't count for much with Mr. Grex.”
“I never thought it would,” Richard admitted.
“I think when I talk to her she'll understand that I
care more than any of the others. If you want to
know the reason, that's why I'm so hopeful.”
Monsieur le Directeur had risen to his feet. Some
one had proposed his health and he made a grace-
ful little speech of acknowledgment. He remained
standing for a few minutes after the cheers which had
greeted his neat oratorical display had died away.
The conclusion of his remarks came as rather a sur-
prise to his guests.
“I have to ask you, ladies and gentlemen,” he
announced, “ with many, many regrets, and begging
you to forgive my apparent inhospitality, to make
your arrangements for leaving us as speedily as
may be possible. Our magnificent situation, with
which I believe that most of you are familiar, has


84 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
but one drawback. We are subject to very dense
mountain mists, and alas! I have to tell you that
one of these has come on most unexpectedly and the
descent must be made with the utmost care. Believe
me, there is no risk or any danger," he went on ear-
nestly, “ so long as you instruct your chauffeurs to
proceed with all possible caution. At the same time,
as there is very little chance of the mist becoming
absolutely dispelled before daylight, in your own
interests I would suggest that a start be made as
soon as possible.”
Every one rose at once, Richard and Hunterleys
amongst them.
“ This will test your skill to-night, young man,”
Hunterleys remarked. “How's the nerve, eh? ”
Richard smiled almost beatifically. For once he
had allowed his eyes to wander and he was watching
the girl with golden hair who was at that moment
receiving the respectful homage of the director.
“Lunatics, and men who are head over heels in
love,” he declared, “never come to any harm.
You'll be perfectly safe with me.”


CHAPTER IX
IN THE MISTS
Their first glimpse of the night, as Hunterleys
and Lane passed out through the grudgingly opened
door, was sufficiently disconcerting. A little mur-
mur of dismay broke from the assembled crowd.
Nothing was to be seen but a dense bank of white
mist, through which shone the brilliant lights of the
automobiles waiting at the door. Monsieur le
Directeur hastened about, doing his best to reassure
everybody.
“If I thought it was of the slightest use," he de
clared, “I would ask you all to stay, but when the
clouds once stoop like this, there is not likely to he
any change for twenty-four hours, and we have not,
alas! sleeping accommodation. If the cars are
slowly driven and kept to the inside, it is only a
matter of a mile or two before you will drop below
the level of the clouds."
Hunterleys and Lane made their way out to the
front, and with their coat collars turned up, groped
their way to the turf on the other side of the avenue.
From where they stood, looking downwards, the
whole world seemed wrapped in mysterious and som-
ber silence. There was nothing to be seen but the
grey, driving clouds. In less than a minute their


IN THE MISTS
87
ceptionally handsome car. On the other side was a
servant in white livery Lane gripped his compan-
ion's arm.
“ There she goes !” he exclaimed.
The girl, followed by Mr. Grex, stepped into the
landaulette, which was brilliantly illuminated inside
with electric light. Almost immediately the car
glided noiselessly off. The two men watched it until
it disappeared. Then they crossed the road.
“Now then, Sir Henry,” Richard observed grimly,
as he turned the handle of the car and they took their
places in the little well-shaped space, “better say
your prayers. I'm going to drive slowly enough
but it's an awful job, this, crawling down the side of
a mountain in the dark, with nothing between you
and eternity but your brakes."
They crept off. As far as the first turn the lights
from the club-house helped them. Immediately aft-
erwards, however, the obscurity was enveloping.
Their faces were wet and shiny with moisture. Even
the fingers of Lane's gloves which gripped the wheel
were sodden. He proceeded at a snail's pace, keep-
ing always on the inside of the road and only a few
inches from the wall or bank. Once he lost his way
and his front wheel struck a small stump, but they
were going too slowly for disaster. Another time
he failed to follow the turn of the road and found
himself in a rough cart track. They backed with
difficulty and got right once more. At the fourth
turn they came suddenly upon a huge car which had
left the road as they had done and was standing
amongst the pine trees, its lights flaring through the
mist.


88 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
as pa fully refleys
“Hullo!” Lane called out, coming to a standstill.
“ You've missed the turn."
“My master is going to stay here all night,” the
chauffeur shouted back.
A man put his head from the window and began
to talk in rapid French.
“ It is inconceivable,” he exclaimed, “ that any one
should attempt the descent! We have rugs, my wife
and I. We stay here till the clouds pass."
“Good night, then!” Lane cried cheerfully.
“ Not sure that you're not wise,” Hunterleys
added, with a shiver.
Twice they stopped while Lane rubbed the mois-
ture from his gloves and lit a fresh cigarette.
“ This is a test for your nerve, young fellow,"
Hunterleys remarked. “ Are you feeling it?"
“Not in the least,” Lane replied. “I can't make
out, though, why that steward made us all start at
intervals of three minutes. Seems to me we should
have been better going together at this pace. Save
any one from getting lost, anyhow.”
They crawled on for another twenty minutes.
The routine was always the same — a hundred yards
or perhaps two, an abrupt turn and then a similar
distance the other way. They had one or two slight
misadventures but they made progress. Once,
through a rift, they caught a momentary vision of a
carpet of lights at a giddy distance below.
“We'll make it all right,” Lane declared, crawling
around another corner. “ Gee! but this is the tough-
est thing in driving I've ever known! I can do
ninety with this car easier than I can do this three.
Hullo, some one else in trouble!”


IN THE MISTS
89
Before them, in the middle of the road, a light
was being slowly swung backwards and forwards.
Lane brought the car to a standstill. He had
scarcely done so when they were conscious of the
sound of footsteps all around them. The arms of
both men were seized from behind. They were ad-
dressed in guttural French.
“Messieurs will be pleased to descend.”
" What the — what's wrong? ” Lane demanded.
“ Descend at once," was the prompt order.
By the light of the lantern which the speaker was
holding, they caught a glimpse of a dozen white faces
and the dull gleam of metal from the firearms which
his companions were carrying. Hunterleys stepped
out. An escort of two men was at once formed on
either side of him.
“ Tell us what it's all about, anyhow?” he
asked coolly.
“Nothing serious," the same guttural voice an-
swered, “a little affair which will be settled in a
few minutes. As for you, monsieur," the man con-
tinued, turning to Lane, “ you will drive your car
slowly to the next turn, and leave it there. After-
wards you will return with me."
Richard set his teeth and leaned over his wheel.
Then it suddenly flashed into his mind that Mr. Grex
and his daughter were already amongst the cap-
tured. He quickly abandoned his first instinct.
“With pleasure, monsieur,” he assented. “Tell
me when to stop.”
He drove the car a few yards round the corner,
past a line of others. Their lights were all extin-
guished and the chauffeurs absent.


90 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ This is a pleasant sort of picnic !” he grumbled,
as he brought his car to a standstill. “Now what
do I do, monsieur? "
“ You return with me, if you please," was the re-
ply.
Richard stood, for a moment, irresolute. The
idea of giving in without a struggle was most dis-
tasteful to this self-reliant young American. Then
he realised that not only was his captor armed but
that there were men behind him and one on either
side.
“ Lead the way,” he decided tersely. .
They marched him up the hill, a little way across
some short turf and round the back of a rock to a
long building which he remembered to have noticed
on his way up. His guide threw open the door and
Richard looked in upon a curious scene. Ranged up
against the further wall were about a dozen of the
guests who had preceded him in his departure from
the Club-house. One man only had his hands tied
behind him. The others, apparently, were consid-
ered harmless. Mr. Grex was the one man, and
there was a little blood dripping from his right hand.
The girl stood by his side. She was no paler than
usual — she showed, indeed, no signs of terror at
all — but her eyes were bright with indignation.
One man was busy stripping the jewels from the
women and throwing them into a bag. In the far
corner the little group of chauffeurs was being
watched by two more men, also carrying firearms.
Lane looked down the line of faces. Lady Hunter-
leys was there, and by her side Draconmeyer. Hun-
terleys was a little apart from the others. Freddy


IN THE MISTS
91
Montressor, who was leaning against the wall, chuc-
kled as Lane came in.
“ So they've got you, too, Dicky, have they? ” he
remarked. “It's a hold-up — a bully one, too.
Makes one feel quite homesick, eh? How much have
you got on you?”
“Precious little, thank heavens!” Richard mut-
tered.
His eyes were fixed upon the brigand who was col-
lecting the jewels, and who was now approaching
Miss Grex. He felt something tingling in his blood.
One of the guests began to talk excitedly. The man
who was apparently the leader, and who was stand-
ing at the door with an electric torch in one hand
and a revolver in the other, stepped a little for-
ward.
“ Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “ once more I
beg you not to be alarmed. So long as you part
with your valuables peaceably, you will be at liberty
to depart as soon as every one has been dealt with.
If there is no resistance, there will be no trouble.
We do not wish to hurt any one."
The collector of jewels had arrived in front of the
girl. She unfastened her necklace and handed it to
him.
“ The little pendant around my neck," she re-
marked calmly, “is valueless. I desire to keep it.”
“ Impossible!” the man replied. “Off with it.”
“But I insist!” she exclaimed. “It is an heir-
loom.”
The man laughed brutally. His filthy hand was
raised to her neck. Even as he touched her, Lane,
with a roar of anger, sent one of his guards flying


92 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
on to the floor of the barn, and, snatching the gun
from his hand, sprang forward.
“ Come on, you fellows !” he shouted, bringing it
down suddenly upon the hand of the robber.
“ These things aren't loaded. There's only one of
these blackguards with a revolver.”
“ And I've got him!” Hunterleys, who had been
watching Lane closely, cried, suddenly swinging his
arm around the man's neck and knocking his re-
volver up.
There was a yell of pain from the man with the
jewels, whose wrist Lane had broken, a howl of dis-
may from the others — pandemonium.
“At 'em, Freddy!” Lane shouted, seizing the
nearest of his assailants by the neck and throwing
him out into the darkness. “To hell with you!”
he added, just escaping a murderous blow and driv-
ing his fist into the face of the man who had aimed
it. “Good for you, Hunterleys! There isn't one
of those old guns of theirs that'll go off. They
aren't even loaded.” .
The barn seemed suddenly to become half empty.
Into the darkness the little band of brigands crept
away like rats. In less than half a minute they had
all fled, excepting the one who lay on the ground
unconscious from the effects of Richard's blow, and
the leader of the gang, whom Hunterleys still held
by the throat. Richard, with a clasp-knife which
he had drawn from his pocket, cut the cord which
they had tied around Mr. Grex's wrists. His ac-
tion, however, was altogether mechanical. He
scarcely glanced at what he was doing. Somehow
or other, he found the girl's hands in his.






"Come on, you fellows



llows!” he shouted. Page 92.





IN THE MISTS
93
“ That brute — didn't touch you, did he?” he
asked.
She looked at him. Whether the clouds were still
outside or not, Lane felt that he had passed into
Heaven.
“He did not, thanks to you,” she murmured.
“ But do you mean really that those guns all the
time weren't loaded?”
“I don't believe they were,” Richard declared
stoutly. “That chap kept on playing about with
the lock of his old musket and I felt sure that it was
of no use, loaded or not. Anyway, when I saw that
brute try to handle you — well —"
He stopped, with an awkward little laugh. Mr.
Grex tapped a cigarette upon his case and lit it.
"I am sure, my young friend, we are all very much
indebted to you. The methods which sometimes are
scarcely politic in the ordinary affairs of life,” he
continued drily, “are admirable enough in a case
like this. We will just help Hunterleys tie up the
leader of the gang. A very plucky stroke, that of
his."
He crossed the barn. One of the women had
fainted, others were busy collecting their jewelry.
The chauffeurs had hurried off to relight the lamps
of the cars.
“I must tell you this,” Richard said, drawing a
a little nearer to the girl. “ Please don't be angry
with me. I went to your father this afternoon. I
made an idiot of myself — I couldn't help it. I
was staring at you and he noticed it. I didn't want
him to think that I was such an ill-mannered brute
as I seemed. I tried to make him understand but


94 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
he wouldn't listen to me. I'd like to tell you now –
now that I have the opportunity — that I think
you're just —"
She smiled very faintly.
“What is it that you wish to tell me?” she asked
patiently.
“ That I love you,” he wound up abruptly.
There was a moment's silence, a silence with a
background of strange noises. People were talking,
almost shouting to one another with excitement.
Newcomers were being told the news. The man
whom Hunterleys had captured was shrieking and
cursing. From beyond came the tooting of motor-
horns as the cars returned. Lane heard nothing.
He saw nothing but the white face of the girl as she
stood in the shadows of the barn, with its walls of
roughly threaded pine trunks.
“But I have scarcely ever spoken to you in my
life!” she protested, looking at him in astonishment.
“ It doesn't make any difference," he replied.
“ You know I am speaking the truth. I think, in
your heart, that you, too, know that these things
don't matter, now and then. Of course, you don't
— you couldn't feel anything of what I feel, but
with me it's there now and for always, and I want to
have a chance, just a chance to make you under-
stand. I'm not really mad. I'm just — in love
with you."
She smiled at him, still in a friendly manner, but
her face had clouded. There was a look in her eyes
almost of trouble, perhaps of regret.
“I am so sorry,” she murmured. “It is only a
sudden feeling on your part, isn't it? You have


IN THE MISTS
95
been so splendid to-night that I can do no more than
thank you very, very much. And as for what you
have told me, I think it is an honour, but I wish you
to forget it. It is not wise for you to think of me
in that way. I fear that I cannot even offer you my
friendship.”
Again there was a brief silence. The clamour of
exclamations from the little groups of people still
filled the air outside. They could hear cars coming
and going. The man whom Hunterleys and Mr.
Grex were tying up was still groaning and cursing.
“ Are you married? ” Richard asked abruptly.
She shook her head.
“ Engaged?"
“No!”
“Do you care very much for any one else?”
“No!” she told him softly.
He drew her away.
“ Come outside for one moment,” he begged. “I
hate to see you in the place where that beast tried to
lay hands upon you. Here is your necklace.”
He picked it up from her feet and she followed him
obediently outside. People were standing about,
shadowy figures in little groups. Some of the cars
had already left, others were being prepared for a
start. Below, once more the clouds had parted and
the lights twinkled like fireflies through the trees.
This time they could even see the lights from the vil-
lage of La Turbie, less brilliant but almost at their
feet. Richard glanced upwards. There was a star
clearly visible.
“ The clouds are lifting,” he said. “Listen. If
there is no one else, tell me, why there shouldn't be


96 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
the slightest chance for me? I am not clever, I am
nobody of any account, but I care for you so won-
derfully. I love you, I always shall love you, more
than any one else could. I never understood before,
but I understand now. Just this caring means so
much.”
She stood close to his side. Her manner at the
same time seemed to depress him and yet to fill him
with hope.
“ What is your name? ” she enquired.
“Richard Lane,” he told her. “I am an Amer-
ican.”
“ Then, Mr. Richard Lane,” she continued softly,
“I shall always think of you and think of to-night
and think of what you have said, and perhaps I shall
be a little sorry that what you have asked me can-
not be."
“ Cannot? ” he muttered.
She shook her head almost sadly.
“ Some day,” she went on, “ as soon as our stay
in Monte Carlo is finished, if you like, I will write
and tell you the real reason, in case you do not find
it out before.”
He was silent, looking downwards to where the
gathering wind was driving the clouds before it, to
where the lights grew clearer and clearer at every
moment.
“ Does it matter,” he asked abruptly, “ that I am
rich — very rich?"
“It does not matter at all,” she answered.
“ Doesn't it matter,” he demanded, turning sud-
denly upon her and speaking with a new passion, al-
most a passion of resentment, “ doesn't it matter


IN THE MISTS
97
that without you life doesn't exist for me any
longer? Doesn't it matter that a man has given
you his whole heart, however slight a thing it may
seem to you? What am I to do if you send me
away? There isn't anything left in life.”
“ There is what you have always found in it,” she
reminded him.
“ There isn't,” he replied fiercely. “That's just
what there isn't. I should go back to a world that
was like a dead city.”
He suddenly felt her hand upon his.
“Dear Mr. Lane,” she begged, “ wait for a little
time before you nurse these sad thoughts, and when
you know how impossible what you ask is, it will
seem easier. But if you really care to hear some-
thing, if it would really please you sometimes
to think of it when you are alone and you re-
member this little foolishness of yours, let me tell
you, if I may, that I am sorry – I am very sorry.”
His hand was suddenly pressed, and then, before
he could stop her, she had glided away. He moved
a step to follow her and almost at once he was sur-
rounded. Lady Hunterleys patted him on the shoul-
der.
“Really,” she exclaimed, “ you and Henry were
our salvation. I haven't felt so thrilled for ages.
I only wish,” she added, dropping her voice a little,
“ that it might bring you the luck you deserve.”
He answered vaguely. She turned back to Hun-
terleys. She was busy tearing up her handker-
chief.
“I am going to tie up your head,” she said.
“ Please stoop down."


98 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
He obeyed at once. The side of his forehead
was bleeding where a bullet from the revolver of the
man he had captured had grazed his temple.
“ Too bad to trouble you,” he muttered.
“It's the least we can do,” she declared, laughing
nervously. “Forgive me if my fingers tremble. It
is the excitement of the last few minutes."
Hunterleys stood quite still. Words seemed diffi-
cult to him just then.
“ You were very brave, Henry,” she said quietly.
“ Whom — whom are you going down with?”
“I am with Richard Lane,” he answered, “ in his
two-seated racer.”
She bit her lip.
“ I did not mean to come alone with Mr. Dracon-
meyer, really,” she explained. “He thought, up to
the last moment, that his wife would be well enough
to come.”
“Did he really believe so, do you think?” Hunter-
leys asked.
A voice intervened. Mr. Draconmeyer was stand-
ing by their side.
“ Well,” he said, “ we might as well resume our
journey. We all look and feel, I think, as though
we had been taking part in a scene from some opéra
bouffe.”
Lady Hunterleys shivered. She had drawn a lit-
tle closer to her husband. Her coat was unfastened.
Hunterleys leaned towards her and buttoned it with
strong fingers up to her throat.
“ Thank you,” she whispered. “You wouldn't
— you couldn't drive down with us, could you?”
“Have you plenty of room? ” he enquired.


IN THE MISTS
99
“ Plenty,” she declared eagerly. “Mr. Dracon-
meyer and I are alone.”
For a moment Hunterleys hesitated. Then he
caught the smile upon the face of the man he de-
tested.
“ Thank you,” he said, “I don't think I can desert
Lane."
She stiffened at once. Her good night was almost
formal. Hunterleys stepped into the car which
Richard had brought up. There was just a slight
mist around them, but the whole country below,
though chaotic, was visible, and the lights on the
hill-side, from La Turbie down to the sea-board,
were in plain sight.
“Our troubles,” Hunterleys remarked, as they
glided off, “ seem to be over.”
“Maybe.” Lane replied grimly. “Mine seem to
be only just beginning!”


CHAPTER X
SIGNS OF TROUBLE
At ten o'clock the next morning, Hunterleys
crossed the sunlit gardens towards the English bank,
to receive what was, perhaps, the greatest shock of
his life. A few minutes later he stood before the ma-
hogany counter, his eyes fixed upon the half sheet
of notepaper which the manager had laid before him.
The words were few enough and simple enough, yet
they constituted for him a message written in the
very ink of tragedy. The notepaper was the note-
paper of the Hotel de Paris, the date the night be-
fore, the words few and unmistakable:
To the Manager of the English Bank.
Please hand my letters to bearer.
HENRY HUNTERLEYS.
He read it over, letter by letter, word by word.
Then at last he looked up. His voice sounded, even
to himself, unnatural.
“You were quite right,” he said. “This order
is a forgery.”
The manager was greatly disturbed. He threw
open the door of his private office.
“ Come and sit down for a moment, will you, Sir
Henry?” he invited. “This is a very serious mat-
ter, and I should like to discuss it with you."


SIGNS OF TROUBLE
IOI
They passed behind into the comfortable little
sitting-room, smelling of morocco leather and roses,
with its single high window, its broad writing-table,
its carefully placed easy-chairs. Men had pleaded
in here with all the eloquence at their command, men
of every rank and walk in life, thieves, nobles, ruined
men and pseudo-millionaires, always with the same
cry — money; money for the great pleasure-mill
which day and night drew in its own. Hunterleys
sank heavily into a chair. The manager seated him-
self in an official attitude before his desk.
“I am sorry to have distressed you with this let-
ter, Sir Henry,” he said. “ However, you must ad-
mit that things might have been worse. It is for-
tunately our invariable custom, when letters are
addressed to one of our clients in our care, to deliver
them to no one else under any circumstances. If
you had been ill, for instance, I should have brought
you your correspondence across to the hotel, but I
should not have delivered it to your own secretary.
That, as I say, is our invariable rule, and we find
that it has saved many of our clients from incon-
venience. In your case,” the manager concluded
impressively, “ your communications being, in a
sense, official, any such attempt as has been made
would not stand the slightest chance of success.
We should be even more particular than in any ordi-
nary case to see that by no possible chance could any
correspondence addressed to you, fall into other
hands."
Hunterleys began to recover himself a little. He
drew towards himself the heap of letters which the
manager had laid by his side.


102 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“Please make yourself quite comfortable here,”
the latter begged. “Read your letters and answer
them, if you like, before you go out. I always call
this,” he added, with a smile, “ the one inviolable
sanctuary of Monte Carlo.”
“You are very kind,” Hunterleys replied. “ Are
you sure that I am not detaining you?”
“Not in the least. Personally, I am not at all
busy. Three-quarters of our business, you see, is
merely a matter of routine. I was just going to
shut myself up here and read the Times. Have a
cigarette? Here's an envelope opener and a waste-
paper basket. Make yourself comfortable."
Hunterleys glanced through his correspondence,
rapidly reading and destroying the greater portion
of it. He came at last to two parchment envelopes
marked “On His Majesty's Service.” These he
opened and read their contents slowly and with great
care. When he had finished, he produced a pair of
scissors from his waistcoat pocket and cut the letters
into minute fragments. He drew a little sigh of re-
lief when at last their final destruction was assured,
and rose shortly afterwards to his feet.
“I shall have to go on to the telegraph office," he
said, " to send these few messages. Thank you very
much, Mr. Harrison, for your kindness. If you do
not mind, I should like to take this forged order
away with me.”
The manager hesitated.
“I am not sure that I ought to part with it,” he
observed doubtfully.
“ Could you recognise the person who presented
it — you or your clerk?”


SIGNS OF TROUBLE
103
The manager shook his head.
“Not a chance," he replied. “It was brought
in, unfortunately, before I arrived. Young Par-
sons, who was the only one in the bank, explained
that letters were never delivered to an order, and
turned away to attend to some one else who was in
a hurry. He simply remembers that it was a man,
and that is all.”
“ Then the document is useless to you,” Hunter-
leys pointed out. “You could never do anything
in the matter without evidence of identification, and
that being so, if you don't mind I should like to
have it.”
Mr. Harrison yielded it up.
“ As you wish,” he agreed. “It is interesting,
if only as a curiosity. The imitation of your signa-
ture is almost perfect.”
Hunterleys took up his hat. Then for a moment,
with his hand upon the door, he hesitated.
“ Mr. Harrison,” he said, “I am engaged just
now, as you have doubtless surmised, in certain in-
vestigations on behalf of the usual third party whom
we need not name. Those investigations have
reached a pitch which might possibly lead me into a
position of some — well, I might almost say danger.
You and I both know that there are weapons in this
place which can be made use of by persons wholly
without scruples, which are scarcely available at
home. I want you to keep your eyes open. I have
very few friends here whom I can wholly trust. It
is my purpose to call in here every morning at ten
o'clock for my letters, and if I fail to arrive within
half-an-hour of that time without having given you


104 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
verbal notice, something will have happened to me.
You understand what I mean?”
“You mean that you are threatened with assas-
sination?” the manager asked gravely.
“ Practically it amounts to that,” Hunterleys
admitted. “I received a warning letter this morn-
ing. There is a very important matter on foot here,
Mr. Harrison, a matter so important that to bring
it to a successful conclusion I fancy that those who
are engaged in it would not hesitate to face any risk.
I have wired to England for help. If anything hap-
pens that it comes too late, I want you, when you find
that I have disappeared, even if my disappearance
is only a temporary matter, to let them know in Lon-
don — you know how — at once.”
The manager nodded.
“I will do so," he promised. “I trust, however,"
he went on, “ that you are exaggerating the danger.
Mr. Billson lived here for many years without any
trouble."
Hunterleys smiled slightly.
“I am not a Secret Service man," he explained.
“ Billson's successor lives here now, of course, and
is working with me, under the usual guise of news-
paper correspondent. I don't think that he will
come to any harm. But I am here in a somewhat
different position, and my negotiations in the east,
during the last few weeks, have made me exceedingly
unpopular with some very powerful people. How-
ever, it is only an outside chance, of course, that I
wish to guard against. I rely upon you, if I should
fail to come to the bank any one morning without
giving you notice, to do as I have asked.”


SIGNS OF TROUBLE
105
Hunterleys left the bank and walked out once
more into the sunlight. He first of all made his way
down to the Post Office, where he rapidly dispatched
several cablegrams which he had coded and written
out in Mr. Harrison's private office. Afterwards he
went on to the Terrace, and finding a retired seat
at the further end, sat down. Then he drew the
forged order once more from his pocket. Word by
word, line by line, he studied it, and the more he
studied it, the more hopeless the whole thing seemed.
The handwriting, with the exception of the signa-
ture, which was a wonderful imitation of his own,
was the handwriting of his wife. She had done this
thing at Draconmeyer's instigation, done this thing
against her husband, taken sides absolutely with the
man whom he had come to look upon as his enemy!
What inference was he to draw? He sat there,
looking out over the Mediterranean, soft and blue,
glittering with sunlight, breaking upon the yellow
stretch of sand in little foam-flecked waves no higher
than his hand. He watched the sunlight glitter on
the white houses which fringed the bay. He looked
idly up at the trim little vineyards on the brown
hill-side. It was the beauty spot of the world.
There was no object upon which his eyes could rest,
which was not beautiful. The whole place was like
a feast of colour and form and sunshine. Yet for
him the light seemed suddenly to have faded from
life. Danger had only stimulated him, had helped
him to cope with the dull pain which he had carried
about with him during the last few months. He was
face to face now with something else. It was worse,
this, than anything he had dreamed. Somehow or


106 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
other, notwithstanding the growing estrangement
with his wife which had ended in their virtual sepa-
ration, he had still believed in her, still had faith in
her, still had hope of an ultimate reconciliation.
And behind it all, he had loved her. It seemed at
that moment that a nightmare was being formed
around him. A new horror was creeping into his
thoughts. He had felt from the first a bitter dislike
of Draconmeyer. Now, however, he realised that
this feeling had developed into an actual and harrow-
ing jealousy. He realised that the man was no
passive agent. It was Draconmeyer who, with sub-
tle purpose, was drawing his wife away! Hunter-
leys sprang to his feet and walked angrily backwards
and forwards along the few yards of Terrace, which
happened at that moment to be almost deserted.
Vague plans of instant revenge upon Draconmeyer
floated into his mind. It was simple enough to take
the law into his own hands, to thrash him publicly,
to make Monte Carlo impossible for him. And then,
suddenly, he remembered his duty. They were trust-
ing him in Downing Street. Chance had put into
his hands so many threads of this diabolical plot.
It was for him to checkmate it. He was the only
person who could checkmate it. This was no time
for him to think of personal revenge, no time for him
to brood over his own broken life. There was work
still to be done — his country's work. ...
He felt the need of change of scene. The sight
of the place with its placid, enervating beauty, its
constant appeal to the senses, was beginning to have
a curious effect upon his nerves. He turned back
upon the Terrace, and by means of the least fre-


SIGNS OF TROUBLE
107
lought. lone i coverez
quented streets he passed through the town and up
towards the hills. He walked steadily, reckless of
time or direction. He had lunch at a small inn high
above the road from Cannes, and it was past three
o'clock when he turned homewards. He had found
his way into the main road now and he trudged
along heedless of the dust with which the constant
procession of automobiles covered him all the while.
The exercise had done him good. He was able to
keep his thoughts focussed upon his mission. So
far, at any rate, he had held his own. His dis-
patches to London had been clear and vivid. He
had told them exactly what he had feared, he had
shown them the inside of this scheme as instinct had
revealed it to him, and he had begged for aid. One
man alone, surrounded by enemies, and in a country
where all things were possible, was in a parlous po-
sition if once the extent of his knowledge were sur-
mised. So far, the plot had not yet matured. So
far, though the clouds had gathered and the thunder
was muttering, the storm had not broken. The rea-
son for that he knew — the one person needed, the
one person for whose coming all these plans had been
made, had not yet arrived. There was no telling,
however, how long the respite might last. At any
moment might commence this conference, whose
avowed purpose was to break at a single blow, a sin-
gle treacherous but deadly blow, the Empire whose
downfall Selingman had once publicly declared was
the one great necessity involved by his country's ex-
pansion. ...
Hunterleys quenched his thirst at a roadside café,
sitting out upon the pavement and drinking coarse


108 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
red wine and soda-water. Then he bought a packet
of black cigarettes and continued his journey. He
was within sight of Monte Carlo when for the twen-
tieth time he had to step to the far side of the path-
way to avoid being smothered in dust by an advanc-
ing automobile. This time, by some chance, he
glanced around, attracted by the piercing character
of its long-distance whistle. A high-powered grey
touring car came by, travelling at a great pace.
Hunterleys stood perfectly rigid, one hand grasping
the wall by the side of which he stood. Notwith-
standing his spectacles and the thick coating of dust
upon his clothes, the solitary passenger of the car
was familiar enough to him. It was the man for
whom this plot had been prepared. It was Paul
Douaille, the great Foreign Minister into whose
hands even the most cautious of Premiers had de-
clared himself willing to place the destinies of his
country!
Hunterleys pursued the road no longer. He took
a ticket at the next station and hurried back to
Monte Carlo. He went first to his room, bathed and
changed, and, passing along the private passage,
made his way into the Sporting Club. The first
person whom he saw, seated in her accustomed place
at her favourite table, was his wife. She beckoned
him to come over to her. There was a vacant chair
by her side to which she pointed.
“ Thank you," he said, “I won't sit down. I
don't think that I care to play just now. You are
fortunate this afternoon, I trust?”
Something in his face and tone checked that rush
of altered feeling of which she had been more than


SIGNS OF TROUBLE
109
once passionately conscious since the night be-
fore.
“I am hideously out of luck," she confessed
slowly. "I have been losing all day. I think that
I shall give it up.”
She rose wearily to her feet and he felt a sudden
compassion for her. She was certainly looking tired.
Her eyes were weary, she had the air of an unhappy
woman. After all, perhaps she too sometimes knew
what loneliness was.
“I should like some tea so much,” she added, a lit-
tle piteously.
He opened his lips to invite her to pass through
into the restaurant with him. Then the memory of
that forged order still in his pocket, flashed into his
mind. He hesitated. A cold, familiar voice at his
elbow intervened.
“ Are you quite ready for tea, Lady Hunterleys?
I have been in and taken a table near the window."
Hunterleys moved at once on one side. Dracon-
meyer bowed pleasantly.
“ Cheerful time we had last night, hadn't we?”
he remarked. “Glad to see your knock didn't lay
you up."
Hunterleys disregarded his wife's glance. He
was suddenly furious.
“ All Monte Carlo seems to be gossiping about
that little contretemps,” Draconmeyer continued.
“It was a crude sort of hold-up for a neighbourhood
of criminals, but it very nearly came off. Will you
have some tea with us?”
“Do, Henry,” his wife begged.
Once again he hesitated. Somehow or other, he


110 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
felt that the moment was critical. Then a hand was
laid quietly upon his arm, a man's voice whispered
in his ear.
“ Monsieur will be so kind as to step this way for
a moment — a little matter of business."
“Who are you?” Hunterleys demanded.
“ The Commissioner of Police, at monsieur's serv-
ice.”


CHAPTER XI
HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS
Hunterleys, in accordance with his request, fol-
lowed the Commissioner downstairs into one of the
small private rooms on the ground floor. The lat-
ter was very polite but very official.
“Now what is it that you want?” Hunterleys
asked, a little brusquely, as soon as they were alone.
The representative of the law was distinctly mys-
terious. He had a brown moustache which he con-
tinually twirled, and he was all the time dropping
his voice to a whisper.
“My first introduction to you should explain my
mission, Sir Henry,” he said. “I hold a high posi-
tion in the police here. My business with you, how-
ever, is on behalf of a person whom I will not name,
but whose identity you will doubtless guess."
“Very well,” Hunterleys replied. “ Now what is
the nature of this mission, please? In plain words,
what do you want with me?”
“I am here with reference to the affair of last
night,” the other declared.
“ The affair of last night? ” Hunterleys repeated,
frowning. “Well, we all have to appear or be rep-
resented before the magistrates to-morrow morning.
I shall send a lawyer."


112 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“Quite so! Quite so! But in the meantime,
something has transpired. You and the young
American, Mr. Richard Lane, were the only two who
offered any resistance. It was owing to you two,
in fact, that the plot was frustrated. I am quite
sure, Sir Henry, that every one agrees with me in ap-
preciating your courage and presence of mind.”
“ Thank you,” Hunterleys replied. “Is that what
you came to say?”
The other shook his head.
“ Unfortunately, no, monsieur! I am here to
bring you certain information. The chief of the
gang, Armand Martin, the man whom you attacked,
became suddenly worse a few hours ago. The doc-
tors suspect internal injuries, injuries inflicted dur-
ing his struggle with you.”
“I am very sorry to hear it,” Hunterleys said
coolly. “On the other hand, he asked for anything
he got.”
“Unfortunately,” the Commissioner continued,
“ the law of the State is curiously framed in such
matters. If the man should die, as seems more than
likely, your legal position, Sir Henry, would be most
uncomfortable. Your arrest would be a necessity,
and there is no law granting what I believe you call
bail to a person directly or indirectly responsible
for the death of another. I am here, therefore, to
give you what I may term an official warning. Your
absence as a witness to-morrow morning will not be
commented upon — events of importance have called
you back to England. You will thereby be saved
a very large amount of annoyance, and the authori-
ties here will be spared the most regrettable neces-


HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS 113
sity of having to deal with you in a manner unbefit-
ting your rank.”
Hunterleys became at once thoughtful. The
whole matter was becoming clear to him.
“I see,” he observed. “This is a warning to me
to take my departure. Is that so? ”
The Commissioner beamed and nodded many
times.
“You have a quick understanding, Sir Henry,”
he declared. “Your departure to-night, or early
to-morrow morning, would save a good deal of un-
pleasantness. I have fulfilled my mission, and I
trust that you will reflect seriously upon the mat-
ter. It is the wish of the high personage whom I
represent, that no inconvenience whatever should be-
fall so distinguished a visitor to the Principality.
Good day, monsieur!”
The official took his leave with a sweep of the hat
and many bows. Hunterleys, after a brief hesita-
tion, walked out into the sun-dappled street. It
was the most fashionable hour of the afternoon.
Up in the square a band was playing. Outside, two
or three smart automobiles were discharging their
freight of wonderfully-dressed women and debonair
men from the villas outside. Suddenly a hand fell
upon his arm. It was Richard Lane who greeted
him.
“Say, where are you off to, Sir Henry?” he in-
quired.
Hunterleys laughed a little shortly.
“Really, I scarcely know,” he replied. “Back to
London, if I am wise, I suppose.”
“ Come into the Club,” Richard begged.


114 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“I have just left,” Hunterleys told him. “Be-
sides, I hate the place.”
“ Did you happen to notice whether Mr. Grex was
in there? ” Richard enquired.
“I didn't see him," Hunterleys answered.
“ Neither,” he added significantly, “ did I see Miss
Grex.”
“Well, I am going in to have a look round, any-
way,” Richard decided. “You might come along.
There's nothing else to do in this place until dinner-
time.”
Hunterleys suffered himself to be persuaded and
remounted the steps.
“ Tell me, Lane,” he asked curiously, “ have you
heard anything about any of the victims of our little
struggle last night — I mean the two men we tac-
kled? "
Richard shook his head.
“I hear that mine has a broken wrist,” he said.
“ Can't say I am feeling very badly about that!”
“I've just been told that mine is going to die,”
Hunterleys continued.
The young man laughed incredulously.
“Why, I went over the prison this morning,” he
declared. “I never saw such a healthy lot of ruf-
fians in my life. That chap whom you tackled —
the one with the revolver — was smoking cigarettes
and using language — well, I couldn't understand it
all, but what I did understand was enough to melt
the bars of his prison.”
“ That's odd,” Hunterleỹs remarked drily. “Ac-
cording to the police commissioner who has just left
me, the man is on his deathbed, and my only chance


HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS 115
of escaping serious trouble is to get out of Monte
Carlo to-night.”
“ Are you going?”
Hunterleys shook his head.
“ It would take a great deal more than that to
move me just now,” he said, “ even if I had not sus-
pected from the first that the man was lying."
Richard glanced at his companion a little curi-
ously.
“I shouldn't have said that you were having such
a good time, Sir Henry,” he observed; “ in fact I
should have thought you would have been rather
glad of an opportunity to slip away.”
Hunterleys looked around them. They had
reached the top of the staircase and were in sight
of the dense crowd in the rooms.
“Come and have a drink,” he suggested. “A
great many of these people will have cleared off pres-
ently."
“ I'll have a drink, with pleasure,” Richard an-
swered, “but I still can't see why you're stuck on
this place.”
They strolled into the bar and found two vacant
places.
“My dear young friend,” Hunterleys said, as he
ordered their drinks, “ if you were an Englishman
instead of an American, I think that I would give
you a hint as to the reason why I do not wish to
leave Monte Carlo just at present.”
“ Can't see what difference that makes,” Richard
declared. “You know I'm all for the old country.”
“I wonder whether you are,” Hunterleys remarked
thoughtfully. “ I tell you frankly that if I thought


116 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
you meant it, I should probably come to you before
long for a little help.”
“ If ever you do, I'm your man,” Richard assured
him heartily. “ Any more scraps going?”
Hunterleys sipped his whisky and soda thought-
fully. There had been an exodus from the room
to watch some heavy gambling at Trente et Quar-
ante, and for a moment they were almost alone.
“ Lane,” he said, “I am going to take you a little
into my confidence. In a way I suppose it is fool-
ish, but to tell you the truth, I am almost driven to
it. You know that I am a Member of Parliament,
and you may have heard that if our Party hadn't
gone out a few years ago, I was to have been For-
eign Minister.”
“ I've heard that often enough,” Lane assented.
“ I've heard you quoted, too, as an example of the
curse of party politics. Just because you are forced
to call yourself a member of one Party you are de-
barred from serving your country in any capacity
until that Party is in power.”
“ That's quite true,” Hunterleys admitted, “and
to tell you the truth, ridiculous though it seems, I
don't see how you're to get away from it in a prac-
tical manner. Anyhow, when my people came out
I made up my mind that I wasn't going to just sit
still in Opposition and find fault all the time, espe-
cially as we've a real good man at the Foreign Of-
fice. I was quite content to leave things in his hands,
but then, you see, politically that meant that there
was nothing for me to do. I thought matters over
and eventually I paired for six months and was
supposed to go off for the benefit of my health. As


118 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
there's no denying the fact that there are certain
people in Monte Carlo at the present moment who
suspect my presence here, and who would go to any
lengths whatever to get rid of me. It isn't the actual
harm I might do, but they have to deal with a very
delicate problem and to make a bargain with a very
sensitive person, and they are terribly afraid that
my presence here, and a meeting between me and that
person, might render all their schemes abortive.”
Richard's face was a study in astonishment.
“Well,” he exclaimed, “ this beats everything!
I've read of such things, of course, but one only half
believes them. Right under our very noses, too!
Say, what are you going to do about it, Sir Henry?”
“ There is only one thing I can do,” Hunterleys
replied grimly. “I am bound to keep my place here.
They'll drive me out if they can. I am convinced
that the polite warning I have received to leave
Monaco this afternoon because of last night's affair,
is part of the conspiracy. In plain words, I've got
to stick it out."
“ But what good are you doing here, anyway?”
Hunterleys smiled and glanced carefully around
the room. They were still free from any risk of be-
ing overheard.
“Well,” he said, “ perhaps you will understand
my meaning more clearly if I tell you that I am the
brains of a counterplot. The English Secret Serv-
ice has a permanent agent here under the guise of a
newspaper correspondent, who is in daily touch with
me, and he in his turn has several spies at work. I
am, however, the dangerous person. The others are
only servants. They make their reports, but they


HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS
119
don't understand their true significance. If these
people could remove me before any one else could ar-
rive to take my place, their chances of bringing off
their coup here would be immensely improved.”
“ I suppose it's useless for me to ask if there's any-
thing I can do to help? ” Richard enquired.
“ You've helped already,” Hunterleys replied. “I
have been nearly three months without being able
to open my lips to a soul. People call me secretive,
but I feel very human sometimes. I know that not
a word of what I have said will pass your lips."
“Not a chance of it,” Richard promised earnestly.
“But look here, can't I do something? If I am not
an Englishman, I'm all for the Anglo-Saxons. I
hate these foreigners — that is to say the men,” he
corrected himself hastily.
Hunterleys smiled.
“Well, I was coming to that,” he said. “I do
feel hideously alone here, and what I would like you
to do is just this. I would like you to call at my
room at the Hotel de Paris, number 189, every morn-
ing at a certain fixed hour — say half-past ten.
Just shake hands with me — that's all. Nothing
shall prevent my being visible to you at that hour.
Under no consideration whatever will I leave any
message that I am engaged or have gone out. If I
am not to be seen when you make your call, something
has happened to me.”
“ And what am I to do then?”
“ That is the point,” Hunterleys continued. “I
don't want to bring you too deeply into this matter.
All that you need do is to make your way to the Eng-
lish Bank, see Mr. Harrison, the manager, and tell


120 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
him of your fruitless visit to me. He will give you a
letter to my wife and will know what other steps to
take.”
“Is that all? ” Richard asked, a little disap-
pointed. “You don't anticipate any scrapping, or
anything of that sort ? ”
“I don't know what to anticipate,” Hunterleys
confessed, a little wearily. “ Things are moving fast
now towards the climax. I promise I'll come to you
for help if I need it. You can but refuse.”
“No fear of my refusing,” Richard declared
heartily. “Not on your life, sir!”
Hunterleys rose to his feet with an appreciative
little nod. It was astonishing how cordially he had
come to feel towards this young man, during the last
few hours.
“I'll let you off now,” he said. “I know you
want to look around the tables and see if any of our
friends of last night are to be found. I, too, have a
little affair which I ought to have treated differently
a few minutes ago. We'll meet later.”
Hunterleys strolled back into the rooms. He
came almost at once face to face with Draconmeyer,
whom he was passing with unseeing eyes. Dracon-
meyer, however, detained him.
“ I was looking for you, Sir Henry!” he exclaimed.
“ Can you spare me one moment?”
They stood a little on one side, out of the way of
the moving throng of people. Draconmeyer was fin-
gering nervously his tie of somewhat vivid purple.
His manner was important.
“Do you happen, Sir Henry,” he asked, “ to have
had any word from the prison authorities to-day?”


HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS
I21
Hunterleys nodded.
“I have just received a message,” he replied. “I
understand that the man with whom I had a strug-
gle last night has received some internal injuries
and is likely to die.”
Draconmeyer's manner became more mysterious.
He glanced around the room as though to be sure
that they were not overheard.
“I trust, Sir Henry,” he said, “ that you will
not think me in any way presumptuous if I speak
to you intimately. I have never had the privilege
of your friendship, and in this unfortunate disagree-
ment between your wife and yourself I have been
compelled to accept your wife's point of view, owing
to the friendship between Mrs. Draconmeyer and
herself. I trust you will believe, however, that I
have no feelings of hostility towards you.”
“ You are very kind,” Hunterleys murmured.
His face seemed set in graven lines. For all the
effect the other's words had upon him, he might have
been wearing a mask.
“ The law here in some respects is very curious,"
Draconmeyer continued. “ Some of the statutes
have been unaltered for a thousand years. I have
been given to understand by a person who knows,
that if this man should die, notwithstanding the cir-
cumstances of the case, you might find yourself in
an exceedingly awkward position. If I might ven-
ture, therefore, to give you a word of disinterested
advice, I would suggest that you return to England
at once, if only for a week or so.”
His eyes had narrowed. Through his spectacles
he was watching intently for the effect of his words.


122 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Hunterleys, however, only nodded thoughtfully, as
though to some extent impressed by the advice he had
received.
“ Very likely you are right,” he admitted. “I
will discuss the matter with my wife.”
“ She is playing over there,” Draconmeyer pointed
out. “And while we are talking in a more or less
friendly fashion,” he went on earnestly, “ might I
give you just one more word of counsel? For the
sake of the friendship which exists between our wives,
I feel sure you will believe that I am disinterested.”
He paused. Hunterleys' expression was now one
of polite interest. He waited, however, for the other
to continue.
“I wish that you could persuade Lady Hunter-
leys to play for somewhat lower stakes.”
Hunterleys was genuinely startled for a moment.
“ Do you mean that my wife is gambling beyond
her means?” he asked.
Draconmeyer shrugged his shoulders.
“How can I tell that? I don't know what her
means are, or yours. I only know that she changes
mille notes more often than I change louis, and it
seems to me that her luck is invariably bad. I
think, perhaps, just a word or two from you, who
have the right to speak, might be of service.”
“I am very much obliged to you for the hint,”
Hunterleys said smoothly. “I will certainly men-
tion the matter to her.”
“ And if I don't see you again,” Draconmeyer con-
cluded, watching him closely, “ good-bye!”
Hunterleys did not appear to notice the tentative
movement of the other's hand. He was already on


HINTS TO HUNTERLEYS 123
his way to the spot where his wife was sitting. Dra-
conmeyer watched his progress with inscrutable face.
Selingman, who had been sitting near, rose and
joined him.
“ Will he go? ” he whispered. “ Will our friend
take this very reasonable hint and depart? ”
Draconmeyer's eyes were still fixed upon Hunter-
leys' slim, self-possessed figure. His forehead was
contorted into a frown. Somehow or other, he felt
that during their brief interview he had failed to
score; he had felt a subtle, underlying note of con-
tempt in Hunterleys' manner, in his whole attitude.
“I do not know," he replied grimly. “I only
hope that if he stays, we shall find the means to make
him regret it!”


CHAPTER XII
“I CANNOT GO!”
Hunterleys stood for several minutes, watching his
wife's play from a new point of view. She was cer-
tainly playing high and with continued ill-fortune.
For the first time, too, he noticed symptoms which
disturbed him. She sat quite motionless, but there
was an unfamiliar glitter in her eyes and a hardness
about her mouth. It was not until he had stood
within a few feet of her for nearly a quarter of an
hour, that she chanced to see him.
“Did you want me?” she asked, with a little
start.
“ There is no hurry," he replied. “If you could
spare me a few moments later, I should be glad.”
She rose at once, thrusting her notes and gold
into the satchel which she was carrying, and stood
by his side. She was very elegantly dressed in
black and white, but she was pale, and, watching her
with a new intentness, he discovered faint violet lines
under her eyes, as though she had been sleeping ill.
“I am rather glad you came,” she said. “I was
having an abominable run of bad luck, and yet I
hated to give up my seat without an excuse. What
did you want, Henry?”
“I should like,” he explained, “ to talk to you
for a quarter of an hour. This place is rather


“I CANNOT GO!”
125
crowded and it is getting on my nerves. We seem
to live here, night and day. Would you object to
driving with me — say as far as Mentone and back?”
“I will come if you wish it," she answered, looking
a little surprised. “Wait while I get my cloak.”
Hunterleys hired an automobile below and they
drove off. As soon as they were out of the main
street, he thrust his hand into the breast-pocket of
his coat and smoothed out that half-sheet of note-
paper upon his knee.
“ Violet,” he said, “ please read that.”
She read the few lines instructing the English
Bank to hand over Sir Henry Hunterleys' letters to
the bearer. Then she looked up at him with a puz-
zled frown.
“I don't understand.”
“ Did you write that?” he enquired.
She looked at him indignantly.
“What an absurd question!” she exclaimed.
“ Your correspondence has no interest for me.”
Her denial, so natural, so obviously truthful, was
a surprise to him. He felt a sudden impulse of joy,
mingled with shame. Perhaps, after all, he had
been altogether too censorious. Once more he di-
rected her attention to the sheet of paper. There
was a marked change in his voice and manner.
“ Violet,” he begged, “ please look at it. Ac-
cepting without hesitation your word that you did
not write it, doesn't it occur to you that the body
of the letter is a distinct imitation of your hand-
writing, and the signature a very clever forgery of
mine?”
“ It is rather like my handwriting,” she admitted,
bio natural, sono interest for exclaimed.


126 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ and as for the signature, do you mean to say really
that that is not yours?”
“ Certainly not,” he assured her. “The whole
thing is a forgery.”
“ But who in the world should want to get your
letters? ” she asked incredulously. “And why
should you have them addressed to the bank?”
He folded up the paper then and put it in his
pocket.
“ Violet,” he said earnestly, “ for the disagree-
ments which have resulted in our separation I may
myself have been to some extent responsible, but we
have promised one another not to refer to them again
and I will not break our compact. All I can say is
that there is much in my life which you know little
of, and for which you do not, therefore, make suf-
ficient allowance.”
“ Then you might have treated me,” she declared,
6 with more confidence.”
“It was not possible,” he reminded her, “ so long
as you chose to make an intimate friend of a man
whose every interest in life is in direct antagonism to
mine."
“Mr. Draconmeyer? ”
“Mr. Draconmeyer,” he assented.
She smiled contemptuously.
“ You misunderstand Mr. Draconmeyer com-
pletely,” she insisted. “He is your well-wisher and
he is more than half an Englishman. It was he who
started the league between English and German com-
mercial men for the propagation of peace. He
formed one of the deputation who went over to see
the Emperor. He has done more, both by his


“I CANNOT GO!”
127
speeches and letters to the newspaper, to promote a
good understanding between Germany and England,
than any other person. You are very much mis-
taken about Mr. Draconmeyer, Henry. Why you
cannot realise that he is simply an ordinary com-
mercial man of high intelligence and most agreeable
manners, I cannot imagine.”
“ The fact remains, my dear Violet,” Hunterleys
said emphatically, “ that it is not possible for me to
treat you with the confidence I might otherwise have
done, on account of your friendship with Mr. Dra-
conmeyer.”
“ You are incorrigible!” she exclaimed. “ Can
we change the subject, please? I want to know why
you showed me that forged letter?”
“I am coming to that,” he told her. “ Please be
patient. I want to remind you of something else.
So far as I remember, my only request, when I gave
you your liberty and half my income, was that your
friendship with the Draconmeyers should decrease.
Almost the first persons I see on my arrival in Monte
Carlo are you and Mr. Draconmeyer. I learn that
you came out with them and that you are staying at
the same hotel.”
“ Your wish was an unreasonable one,” she pro-
tested. “Linda and I were school-girls together.
She is my dearest friend and she is a hopeless in-
valid. I think that if I were to desert her she would
die.”
“ I have every sympathy with Mrs. Draconmeyer,"
he said slowly, “ but you are my wife. I am going to
make one more effort -- please don't be uneasy — not
to re-establish any relationship between us, but to


128 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
open your eyes as to the truth concerning Mr. Dra-
conmeyer. You asked me a moment ago why I had
shown you that forged letter. I will tell you now.
It was Draconmeyer who was the forger."
She leaned back in her seat. She was looking at
him incredulously.
“You mean to say that Mr. Draconmeyer wrote
that order -- that he wanted to get possession of
your letters? ”
“ Not only that,” Hunterleys continued, “but he
carried out the business in such a devilish manner
as to make me for a moment believe that it was you
who had helped him. You are wrong about Dracon-
meyer. The man is a great schemer, who under
the pretence of occupying an important commercial
position in the City of London, is all the time a se-
cret agent of Germany. He is there in her inter-
ests. He studies the public opinion of the country.
He dissects our weaknesses. He is there to point
out the best methods and the opportune time for the
inevitable struggle. He is the worst enemy to-day
England has. You think that he is here in Monte
Carlo on a visit of pleasure — for the sake of his
wife, perhaps. Nothing of the sort! He is here at
this moment associated with an iniquitous scheme,
the particulars of which I can tell you nothing of.
Furthermore, I repeat what I told you on our first
meeting here — that in his still, cold way he is in
love with you.”
“ Henry!” she cried.
“I cannot see how you can remain so wilfully
blind,” Hunterleys continued. “I know the man in-
side out. I warned you against him in London, I


“I CANNOT GO!”
129
warn you against him now. This forged letter was
designed to draw us further apart. The little brown
man who has dogged your footsteps is a spy em-
ployed by him to make you believe that I was having
you watched. You are free still to act as you will,
Violet, but if you have a spark of regard for me or
yourself, you will go back to London at once and
drop this odious friendship.”
She leaned back in the car. They had turned
round now and were on the way back to Monte Carlo
by the higher road. She sat with her eyes fixed upon
the mountains. Her heart, in a way, had been
touched, her imagination stirred by her husband's
words. She felt a return of that glow of admira-
tion which had thrilled her on the previous night,
when he and Richard Lane alone amongst that mot-
ley company had played the part of men. A
curious, almost pathetic wistfulness crept into her
heart. If only he would lean towards her at that
moment, if she could see once more the light in his
eyes that had shone there during the days of their
courtship! If only he could remember that it was
still his part to play the lover! If he could be a
little less grave, a little less hopelessly correct and
fair! Despite her efforts to disbelieve, there was
something convincing about his words. At any mo-
ment during that brief space of time, a single trem-
ulous word, even a warm clasp of the hand, would
have brought her into his arms. , But so much of
inspiration was denied him. He sat waiting for her
decision with an eagerness of which he gave no sign.
Nevertheless, the fates were fighting for him. She
thought gratefully, even at that moment, yet with


130 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
less enthusiasm than ever before, of the devout hom-
age, the delightful care for her happiness and com-
fort, the atmosphere of security with which Dracon-
meyer seemed always to surround her. Yet all this
was cold and unsatisfying, a poor substitute for the
other things. Henry had been different once. Per-
haps it was jealousy which had altered him. Per-
haps his misconception of Draconmeyer's character
had affected his whole outlook. She turned towards
him, and her voice, when she spoke, was no longer
querulous.
“ Henry,” she said, “I cannot admit the truth
of all that you say concerning Mr. Draconmeyer, but
tell me this. If I were willing to leave this place to-
night —”
She paused. For some reason a sudden embar-
rassment had seized her. The words seemed to come
with difficulty. She turned ever so slightly away
from him. There was a tinge of colour at last in her
pale cheeks. She seemed to him now, as she leaned
a little forward in her seat, completely beautiful.
“If I make my excuses and leave Monte Carlo
to-night,” she went on, “ will you come with me? "
He gave a little start. Something in his eyes
flashed an answer into her face. And then the flood
of memory came. There was his mission. He was
tied hand and foot.
“ It is good of you to offer that, Violet,” he de-
clared. “If I could — if only I could !”
Already her manner began to change. The fear
of his refusal was hateful, her lips were trembling.
“You mean," she faltered, “ that you will not
come? Listen. Don't misunderstand me. I will


“I CANNOT GO!”
131
order my boxes packed, I will catch the eight o'clock
train either through to London or to Paris — any-
where. I will do that if you will come. There is
my offer. That is my reply to all that you have said
about Mr. Draconmeyer. I shall lose a friend who
has been gentleness and kindness and consideration
itself. I will risk that. What do you say? Will
you come?”
“ Violet, I cannot,” he replied hoarsely. “No,
don't turn away like that!” he begged. “Don't
change so quickly, please! It isn't fair. Listen. I
am not my own master.”
“Not your own master? ” she repeated incredu-
lously. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I am here in Monte Carlo not for
my own pleasure. I mean that I have work, a pur-
pose "
“ Absurd!” she interrupted him, almost harshly.
“ There is nobody who has any better claim upon
you than I have. You are over-conscientious about
other things. For once remember your duty as a
husband.”
He caught her wrist.
“You must trust me a little,” he pleaded. “Be-
lieve me that I really appreciate your offer. If I
were free to go, I should not hesitate for a single
second. . . . Can't you trust me, Violet?” he im-
plored, his voice softening.
The woman within her was fighting on his side.
She stifled her wounded feelings, crushed down her
disappointment that he had not taken her at once
into his arms and answered her upon her lips.
“ Trust me, then,” she replied. “If you refuse


132 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
my offer, don't hint at things you have to do. Tell
me in plain words why. It is not enough for you
to say that you cannot leave Monte Carlo. Tell
me why you cannot. I have invited you to escort
me anywhere you will — I, your wife. ... Shall we
go?”
The woman had wholly triumphed. Her voice had
dropped, the light was in her eyes. She swayed a
little towards him. His brain reeled. She was once
more the only woman in the world for him. Once
more he fancied that he could feel the clinging of her
arms, the touch of her lips. These things were
promised in her face.
“I tell you that I cannot go!” he cried sharply.
“ Believe me — do believe me, Violet!”
She pulled down her veil suddenly. He caught at
her hand. It lay passively in his. He pleaded for
her confidence, but the moment of inspiration had
gone. She heard him with the air of one who listens
no longer. Presently she stopped him.
“ Don't speak to me for several minutes, please,”
she begged. “ Tell him to put me down at the hotel.
I can't go back to the Club just yet.”
“You mustn't leave me like this,” he insisted.
“Will you tell me why you refuse my offer?" she
asked.
“ I have a trust!”
The automobile had come to a standstill. She
rose to her feet.
“ I was once your trust,” she reminded him, as she
passed into the hotel.


CHAPTER XIII
MISS GREX AT HOME
Richard Lane, as he made his way up the avenue
towards the Villa Mimosa, wondered whether he was
not indeed finding his way into fairyland. On either
side of him were drooping mimosa trees, heavy with
the snaky, orange-coloured blossom whose perfumes
hung heavy upon the windless air. In the back-
ground, bordering the gardens which were themselves
a maze of colour, were great clumps of glorious pur-
ple rhododendrons, drooping clusters of red and
white roses. A sudden turn revealed a long per-
gola, smothered in pink blossoms and leading to the
edge of the terrace which overhung the sea. The
villa itself, which seemed, indeed, more like a palace,
was covered with vivid purple clematis, and from
the open door of the winter-garden, which was built
out from the front of the place in a great curve,
there came, as he drew near, a bewildering breath
of exotic odours. The front-door was wide open,
and before he could reach the bell a butler had ap-
peared.
“Is Mr. Grex at home?” Richard enquired.
“ Mr. Grex is not at home, sir,” was the immediate
reply.
“I should like to see Miss Grex, then,” Richard
proceeded.


134 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
The man's face was curiously expressionless, but
a momentary silence perhaps betrayed as much sur-
prise as he was capable of showing.
“ Miss Grex is not at home, sir,” he announced.
Richard hesitated and just then she came out from
the winter-garden. She was wearing a pink linen
morning gown and a floppy pink hat. She had a
book under her arm and a parasol swinging from her
fingers. When she saw Lane, she stared at him in
amazement. He advanced a step or two towards her,
his hat in his hand.
“ I took the liberty of calling to see your father,
Miss Grex,” he explained. “ As he was not at home,
I ventured to enquire for you.”
She was absolutely helpless. It was impossible
· to ignore his outstretched hand. Very hesitatingly
she held out her fingers, which Richard grasped and
seemed in no hurry at all to release.
“This is quite the most beautiful place I have
seen anywhere near Monte Carlo,” he remarked en-
thusiastically.
“I am glad," she murmured, “ that you find it
attractive."
He was standing by her side now, his hat under
his arm. The butler had withdrawn a little into the
background. She glanced around.
“ Did my father ask you to call, Mr. Lane?" she
enquired, dropping her voice a little.
“ He did not,” Richard confessed. “I must say
that I gave him plenty of opportunities but he did
not seem to be what I should call hospitably inclined.
In any case, it really doesn't matter. I came to see
you."


MISS GREX AT HOME 135
She bit her lip, struggling hard to repress a smile.
“ But I did not ask you to call upon me either,"
she reminded him gravely.
“ Well, that's true," Lane admitted, a little hesi-
tatingly. “I don't quite know how things are done
over here. Say, are you English, or French, or
what?” he asked, point blank. “I have been puz-
zling about that ever since I saw you."
“I am not sure that my nationality matters," she
observed.
“Well, over on the other side," he continued, -
“I mean America, of course — if we make up our
minds that we want to see something of a girl and
there isn't any real reason why one shouldn't, then
the initiative generally rests with the man. Of
course, if you are an only daughter, I can quite
understand your father being a bit particular, not
caring for men callers and that sort of thing, but
that can't go on for ever, you know, can it? ”
“ Can't it?" she murmured, a little dazed.
“ I have a habit,” he confided, “ of making up my
mind quickly, and when I decide about a thing, I am
rather hard to turn. Well, I made up my mind
about you the first moment we met.”
“ About me? ” she repeated.
“ About you."
She turned and looked at him almost wonderingly.
He was very big and very confident; good to look
upon, less because of his actual good looks than be-
cause of a certain honesty and tenacity of purpose
in his expression; a strength of jaw, modified and
rendered even pleasant by the kindness and humour
of his clear grey eyes. He returned her gaze with-


136 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
out embarrassment and he wondered less than ever
at finding himself there. Her complexion in this
clear light seemed more beautiful than ever. Her
rich golden-brown hair was waved becomingly over
her forehead. Her eyebrows were silky and deli-
cately straight, her mouth delightful. Her figure
was girlish, but unusually dignified for her years.
“ You know," he said suddenly, “ you look to me
just like one of those beautiful plants you have in the
conservatory there, just as though you'd stepped
out of your little glass home and blossomed right
here. I am almost afraid of you."
She laughed outright this time — a low, musical
laugh which had in it something of foreign intona-
tion.
“Well, really,” she exclaimed, “I had not noticed
your fear! I was just thinking that you were quite
the boldest young man I have ever met.”
“ Come, that's something!” he declared.
“ Couldn't we sit down somewhere in these wonderful
gardens of yours and talk? ”
She shook her head.
“ But have I not told you already,” she protested,
“ that I do not receive callers? Neither does my
father. Really, your coming here is quite unwar-
rantable. If he should return at this moment and
find you here, he would be very angry indeed. I am
afraid that he would even be rude, and I, too, should
suffer for having allowed you to talk with me.”
“Let's hope that he doesn't return just yet, then,”
Richard observed, smiling easily. “I am very good-
tempered as a rule, but I do not like people to be rude
to me."


MISS GREX AT HOME
137
“Fortunately, he cannot return for at least an
hour —” she began.
“ Then we'll sit down on that terrace, if you please,
for just a quarter of that time,” he begged.
She opened her lips and closed them again. He
was certainly a very stubborn young man!
“Well,” she sighed, “ perhaps it will be the easi-
est way of getting rid of you.”
She motioned him to follow her. The butler, from
a discreet distance, watched her as though he were
looking at a strange thing. Round the corner of
the villa remote from the winter-garden, was a long
stone terrace upon which many windows opened.
Screened from the wind, the sun here was of almost
midsummer strength. There was no sound. The
great house seemed asleep. There was nothing but
the droning of a few insects. Even the birds were
songless. The walls were covered with drooping
clematis and roses, roses that twined over the balus-
trades. Below them was a tangle of mimosa trees
and rhododendrons, and further below still the blue
Mediterranean. She sank into a chair.
“ You may sit here,” she said, “ just long enough
for me to convince you that your coming was a mis-
take. Indeed that is so. I do not wish to seem
foolish or unkind, but my father and I are living
here with one unbreakable rule, and that is that we
make no acquaintances whatsoever.”
“That sounds rather queer," he remarked.
“Don't you find it dull?”
“If I do,” she went on," it is only for a little time.
My father is here for a certain purpose, and as soon
as that is accomplished we shall go away. For him


138 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
to accomplish that purpose in a satisfactory manner,
it is necessary that we should live as far apart as
possible from the ordinary visitors here.”
“ Sounds like a riddle,” he admitted. “Do you
mind telling me of what nationality you are?”
“I see no reason why I should tell you anything."
“You speak such correct English,” he continued,
“ but there is just a little touch of accent. You
don't know how attractive it sounds. You don't
know —"
He hesitated, suddenly losing some part of his
immense confidence.
“What else is there that I do not know? " she
asked, with a faintly amused smile.
“I have lost my courage,” he confessed simply.
“I do not want to offend you, I do not want you to
think that I am hopelessly foolish, but you see I
have the misfortune to be in love with you.”
She laughed at him, leaning back in her chair with
half-closed eyes.
“Do people talk like this to casual acquaintances
in your country? " she asked.
“ They speak sometimes a language which is com-
mon to all countries,” he replied quickly. “The
only thing that is peculiar to my people is that when
we say it, it is the sober and the solemn truth."
She was silent for a moment. She had plucked
one of the blossoms from the wall and was pulling to
pieces its purple petals.
“Do you know,” she said, “ that no young man
has ever dared to talk to me as you have done?”
“ That is because no one yet has cared so much as
I do,” he assured her. “I can quite understand


MISS GREX AT HOME 139
their being frightened. I am terribly afraid of you
myself. I am afraid of the things I say to you, but
I have to say them because they are in my heart,
and if I am only to have a quarter of an hour with
you now, you see I must make the best use of my
time. I must tell you that there isn't any other girl
in the world I could ever look at again, and if you
won't promise to marry me some day, I shall be the
most wretched person on earth.”
“I can never, never marry you,” she told him
emphatically. “There is nothing which is so im-
possible as that."
“Well, that's a pretty bad start,” he admitted.
“It is the end,” she said firmly.
He shook his head. There was a terrible obsti-
nacy in his face. She frowned at him.
“ You do not mean that you will persist after what
I have told you?”
He looked at her, almost surprised.
“ There isn't anything else for me to do, that I
know of,” he declared, “ so long as you don't care
for any one else. Tell me again, you are sure that
there is no one?”
“ Certainly not,” she replied stiffly. “ The sub-
ject has not yet been made acceptable to me. You
must forgive my adding that in my country it is not
usual for a girl to discuss these matters with a man
before her betrothal.”
“ Say, I don't understand that,” he murmured,
looking at her thoughtfully. “She can't get en-
gaged before she is asked.”
“ The preliminaries,” she explained, “ are always
arranged by one's parents."


140 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
He smiled pityingly.
“ That sort of thing's no use," he asserted con-
fidently. “You must be getting past that, in what-
ever corner of Europe you live. What you mean
to say, then, is that your father has some one up his
sleeve whom he'll trot out for you before long?”
“Without doubt, some arrangement will be pro-
posed,” she agreed.
“And you'll have to be amiable to some one you've
never seen in your life before, I suppose? ” he per-
sisted.
“Not necessarily. It sometimes happens, in my
position,” she went on, raising her head, “ that cer-
tain sacrifices are necessary.”
“In your position,” he repeated quickly. “What
does that mean? You aren't a queen, are you, or
anything of that sort? ”
She laughed.
“No," she confessed, “I am not a queen, and
yet —”
“ And yet?”
“ You must go back," she insisted, rising abruptly
to her feet. “ The quarter of an hour is up. I do
not feel happy, sitting here talking with you.
Really, if my father were to return he would be more
angry with me than he has ever been in his life. This
sort of thing is not done amongst my people.”
“ Little lady,” he said, gently forcing her back
into her place, “ believe me, it's done all the world
over, and there isn't any girl can come to any harm
by being told that a man is fond of her when it's the
truth, when he'd give his life for her willingly. It's
just like that I feel about you. I've never felt it


MISS GREX AT HOME
141
before. I could never feel it for any one else. And
I am not going to give you up."
She was looking at him half fearfully. There was
a little colour in her cheeks, her eyes were suddenly
moist.
“I think,” she murmured, “ that you talk very
nicely. I think I might even say that I like to hear
you talk. But it is so useless. Won't you go now?
Won't you please go now?”
“When may I come again? ” he begged.
“Never,” she replied firmly. “You must never
come again. You must not even think of it. But
indeed you would not be admitted. They will prob-
ably tell my father of your visit, as it is, and he will
be very angry.”
“Well, when can I see you, then, and where?” he
demanded. “I hope you understand that I am not
in the least disheartened by anything you have said.”
“I think,” she declared, “ that you are the most
persistent person I ever met.”
“ It is only,” he whispered, leaning a little to-
wards her, “because I care for you so much.”
She was suddenly confused, conscious of a swift
desire to get rid of him. It was as though some one
were speaking a new language. All her old habits
and prejudices seemed falling away.
“ I cannot make appointments with you,” she pro-
tested, her voice shaking. “I cannot encourage you
in any way. It is really quite impossible.”
“If I go now, will you be at the Club to-morrow
afternoon?” he pleaded.
“I am not sure," she replied. “It is very likely
that I may be there. I make no promise.”


142 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
He took her hand abruptly, and, stooping down,
forced her to look into his eyes.
“You will be there to-morrow afternoon, please,"
he begged," and you will give me the rose from your
waistband.”
She laughed uneasily.
“If the rose will buy your departure —” she be-
gan.
“ It may do that,” he interrupted, as he drew it
through his buttonhole, “but it will assuredly bring
me back again.”
Richard walked down the hill, whistling softly to
himself and with a curious light in his eyes. As he
reached the square in front of the Casino, he was ac-
costed by a stranger who stood in the middle of the
pavement and respectfully removed his hat.
“You are Mr. Richard Lane, is it not so, mon-
sieur?”
“You've guessed it in one,” Richard admitted.
“Have I ever seen you before?”
“Never, monsieur, unless you happened to notice
me on your visit to the prison. I have an official
position in the Principality. I am commissioned to
speak to you with respect to the little affair in which
you were concerned at La Turbie.”
“Well, I thought we'd thrashed all that out,” Lane
replied. “Anyway, Sir Henry Hunterleys and I
have engaged a lawyer to look after our interests."
“ Just so," the little man murmured. “A very
clever man indeed is Monsieur Grisson. Still, there
is a view of the matter," he continued, “ which is
perhaps hard for you Englishmen and Americans to


MISS GREX AT HOME 143
understand. Assault of any description is very se-
verely punished here, especially when it results in
bodily injury. Theft of all sorts, on the other hand,
is very common indeed. The man whom you injured
is a native of Monte Carlo. To a certain extent, the
Principality is bound to protect him.”
“Why, the fellow was engaged in a flagrant at-
tempt at highway robbery!” Richard declared, gen-
uinely astonished.
His companion stretched out his hands.
“ Monsieur,” he replied, “ every one robs here,
whether they are shop-keepers, restaurant keepers
or loafers upon the streets. The people expect it.
At the adjourned trial next week there will be many
witnesses who are also natives of Monte Carlo. I
have been commissioned to warn monsieur. It would
be best, on the whole, if he left Monte Carlo by the
next train."
“ Why in the name of mischief should I do that? ”
Richard demanded.
“ In the first place," the other pointed out, “ be-
cause this man, whom you treated a little roughly,
has many friends and associates. They have sworn
revenge. You are even now being followed about,
and the police of the Principality have enough to do
without sparing an escort to protect you against vio-
lence. In the second place, I am not at all sure that
the finding of the court next week will be altogether
to your satisfaction."
“Do you mean this? ” Richard asked incredu-
lously.
“ Without a doubt, monsieur.”
“ Then all I can say,” Richard declared, “is that


144 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
your magistrate or judge, or whatever he calls him-
self, is a rotter, and your laws absurd. I sha'n't
budge.”
“ It is in your own interests, monsieur, this warn-
ing," the other persisted. “Even if you escape
these desperadoes, you still run some risk of dis-
covering what the inside of a prison in Monaco is
like.”
“I think not,” Lane answered grimly. “If
there's anything of that sort going about, I shall
board my yacht yonder and hoist the Stars and
Stripes. I shall take some getting into prison, I
can tell you, and if I once get there, you'll hear
about it.”
“ Monsieur will be much wiser to avoid trouble,"
the official advised.
Lane placed his hand upon the other's shoulder.
“My friend,” he said, “not you or a dozen like
you could make me stir from this place until I am
ready, and just now I am very far from ready.
See? You can go and tell those who sent you, what
I say."
The emissary of the law shrugged his shoulders.
His manner was stiff but resigned.
“I have delivered my message, monsieur,” he an-
nounced. “ Monsieur naturally must decide for
himself.”
He disappeared with a bow. Richard continued
on his way and a few minutes later ran into Hunter-
leys.
“ Say, did you ever hear such cheek!” he ex-
claimed, passing his arm through the latter's. “A
little bounder stopped me in the street and has been


MISS GREX AT HOME 145
trying to frighten me into leaving Monte Carlo, just
because I broke that robber's wrist. Same Johnny
that came to you, I expect. What are they up to,
anyway? What do they want to get rid of us for?
They ought to be jolly grateful.”
Hunterleys shook his head.
“ So far as I am concerned,” he said, “ their rea-
sons for wanting to get rid of me are fairly obvious,
I am afraid, but I must say I don't know where you
come in, unless —”.
He stopped short.
“ Well, unless what? ” Richard interposed. “I
should just like to know who it is trying to get me
kicked out.”
“ Can't you guess? ” Hunterleys asked. “There
is one person who I think would be quite as well
pleased to see the back of you.”
“Here in Monte Carlo? ”
“ Absolutely!”
Richard was mystified.
“ You are not very bright, I am afraid,” Hunter-
leys observed. “What about your friend Mr.
Grex? "
Richard whistled softly.
“ Are you serious? ”
“Of course I am,” Hunterleys assured him.
“ But has he any pull here, this Mr. Grex ? "
Hunterleys' eyes twinkled for a moment.
“ Yes,” he replied, “I think that Mr. Grex has
very considerable influence in this part of the world,
and he is a man who, I should say, was rather used
to having his own way.”
“ I gathered that I wasn't exactly popular with


CHAPTER XIV
DINNER FOR TWO
At a few minutes before eight o'clock that evening
Lady Hunterleys descended the steps of the Casino
and crossed the square towards the Hotel de Paris.
She walked very slowly and she looked neither to the
right nor to the left. She had the air of seeing no
one. She acknowledged mechanically the low bow
of the commissionaire who opened the door for her.
A reception clerk who stood on one side to let her
pass, she ignored altogether. She crossed the hall
to the lift and pressed the bell. Draconmeyer, who
had been lounging in an easy-chair waiting for her,
watched her entrance and noticed her abstracted
manner with kindling eyes. He threw away his
newspaper and, hastily approaching her, touched her
arm.
“You are late," he remarked.
She started.
“ Yes, I am late.”
“ I did not see you at the Club."
“I have been to the Casino instead,” she told him.
“I thought that it might change my luck."
“ Successful, I trust? ”
She shook her head. Then she opened her gold
satchel and showed him. It was empty.


DINNER FOR TWO
149
cial crisis ; he had pulled down or built up as his
judgment or fancy had dictated; and all the time the
man's relaxations, apart from the actual trend of
great affairs, had been few and slight. Then had
come his acquaintance with Linda's school-friend.
He looked back through the years. At first he had
scarcely noticed her visits. Gradually he had be-
come conscious of a dim feeling of thankfulness to
the woman who always seemed able to soothe his in-
valid wife. Then, scarcely more than a year or so
ago, he had found himself watching her at unex-
pected moments, admiring the soft grace of her
movements, the pleasant cadence of her voice, the
turn of her head, the colour of her hair, the elegance
of her clothes, her thin, fashionable figure. Grad-
ually he had begun to look for her, to welcome her
at his table — and from that, the rest. Finally the
birth of this last scheme of his. He had very nearly
made a fatal mistake at the very commencement, had
pulled himself right again only with a supreme ef-
fort. His heart beat quicker even now as he thought
of that moment. They had been alone together one
evening. She had sat talking with him after Linda
had gone to bed worse than usual, and in the dim
light he had almost lost his head, he had almost said
those words, let her see the things in his eyes for
which the time was not yet ripe. She had kept away
for a while after that. He had treated it as a mis-
take but he had been very careful not to err again.
By degrees she forgot. The estrangement between
husband and wife was part of his scheme, largely his
doing. He was all the time working to make the
breach wider. The visit to Monte Carlo, rather a


150 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
difficult accomplishment, he had arranged. He had
seen with delight the necessity for some form of ex-
citement growing up in her, had watched her losses
and only wished that they had been larger. He had
encouraged her to play for higher stakes and found
that she needed very little encouragement indeed.
To-night he felt that a crisis was at hand. There
was a new look upon her face. She had probably
lost everything. He knew exactly how she would
feel about asking her husband for help. His eyes
grew brighter as he waited for the lift.
She came at last and they walked together into the
dining-room. When she reached their accustomed
table, it was empty, and only their two places were
laid. She looked at him in surprise.
“ But I thought you said that Linda would be so
disappointed ! ” she reminded him.
He shook his head.
“I do not think that I mentioned Linda's name,”
he protested. “She went to bed soon after tea in
an absolutely hopeless state. I am afraid that to-
night I was selfish. I was thinking of myself. I
have had nothing in the shape of companionship all
day. I came and looked at the table, and the
thought of dining alone wearied me. I have to spend
a great deal of time alone, unfortunately. You and
I are, perhaps, a little alike in that respect.”
She seated herself after a moment's hesitation.
He moved his chair a little closer to hers. The pink-
shaded lamp seemed to shut them off from the rest
of the room. A waiter poured wine into their
glasses.
“I ordered champagne to-night,” he remarked.


DINNER FOR TWO
151
“ You looked so tired when you came in. Drink a
glass at once.”
She obeyed him, smiling faintly. She was, as a
matter of fact, craving for something of the sort.
“ It was thoughtful of you,” she declared. “I
am tired. I have been losing all day, and altogether
I have had a most depressing time.”
“ It is not as it should be, that,” he observed,
smiling. “ This is a city of pleasure. One was
meant to leave one's cares behind here. If any one
in this world,” he added, “ should be without them, it
should be you.”
He looked at her respectfully yet with an admira-
tion which he made no effort to conceal. There was
nothing in the look over-personal. She accepted it
with gratitude.
“You are always kind,” she murmured.
“ This reminds me of some of our evenings in
London," he went on, “ when we used to talk music
before we went to the Opera. I always found those
evenings so restful and pleasant. Won't you try
and forget that you have lost a few pennies ; forget,
also, your other worries, whatever they may be? I
have had a letter to-day from the one great writer
whom we both admire. I shall read it to you. And
I have a list of the operas for next week. I see that
your husband's little protégée, Felicia Roche, is
here.”
“My husband's protégée?” she repeated. “I
don't quite understand.”
He seemed, for a moment, embarrassed.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I had no idea. But
your husband will tell you if you ask him. It was he


152 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
who paid for her singing education, and her triumph
is his. But the name must be known to you.”
“ I have never heard it in connection with my hus-
band,” she declared, frowning slightly. “Henry
does not always take me into his confidence.”
“ Then I am sorry,” he continued penitently,
6 that I mentioned the matter. It was clumsy of
me. I had an idea that he must have told you all
about her. ... Another glass of wine, please, and
you will find your appetite comes. Jules has pre-
pared that salmon trout specially. I'll read you the
letter from Maurice, if you like, and afterwards
there is a story I must tell you."
The earlier stages of dinner slipped pleasantly
away. Draconmeyer was a born conversationalist,
- a good talker and a keen tactician. The food
and the wine, too, did their part. Presently Violet
lifted her head, the colour came back to her cheeks,
she too began to talk and laugh. All the time he
was careful not to press home his advantage. He
remembered that one night in the library at Gros-
venor Square, when she had turned her head and
looked at him for a moment before leaving. She
must be different now, he told himself fiercely. It
was impossible that she could continue to love a
husband who neglected her, a man whose mistaken
sense of dignity kept him away from her!
“I want you," he begged, as they drew towards
the close of the meal, “ to treat me, if you will, just
a little more confidentially.”
She glanced up at him quickly, almost sus-
piciously.
“ What do you mean?”


154 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
that you know the truth. It is my firm belief that
your husband does not deserve your interest, much
more your affection. If only I dared —"
He paused for a moment. Every word he was,
compelled to measure.
“ Sometimes,” he continued, “ your condition re-
minds me so much of my own. I think that there is
no one so lonely in life as I am. For the last few
years Linda has been fading away, physically and
mentally. I touch her fingers at morning and night,
we speak of the slight happenings of the day. She
has no longer any mind or any power of sympathy.
Her lips are as cold as her understanding. For that
I know she is not to blame, yet it has left me very
lonely. If I had had a child,” he went on, “ even if
there were one single soul of whom I was fond, to
whom I might look for sympathy; even if you, my
dear friend - you see, I am bold, and I venture to
call you my dear friend — could be a little kinder
sometimes, it would make all the difference in the
world.”
She turned her head and looked at him. His teeth
came together hastily. It seemed to him that al-
ready she was on her guard.
“You have something more to say, haven't you? ”
she asked.
He hesitated. Her tone was non-committal. It
was a moment when he might have risked everything,
but he feared to make a mistake.
“ This is what I mean,” he declared, with the ap-
pearance of great frankness. “I am going to speak
to you upon the absurd question of money. I have
an income of which, even if I were boundlessly ex-


DINNER FOR TWO
155
travagant, I could not hope to spend half. A specu-
lation, the week before I left England, brought me a
profit of a million marks. But for the banking in-
terests of my country and the feeling that I am the
trustee for thousands of other people, it would weary
me to look for investments. And you — you came
in to-night, looking worn out just because you had
lost a handful or so of those wretched plaques.
There, you see it is coming now. I should like per-
mission to do more than call myself your friend. I
should like permission to be also your banker.”
She looked at him quietly and searchingly. His
heart began to beat faster. At least she was in
doubt. He had not wholly lost. His chance, even,
was good.
“My friend,” she said, “I believe that you are
honest. I do indeed recognise your point of view.
The thing is an absurdity, but, you know, all conven-
tions, even the most foolish, have some human and
natural right beneath them. I think that the con-
vention which forbids a woman accepting money
from a man, however close a friend, is like that.
Frankly, my first impulse, a few minutes ago, was to
ask you to lend me a thousand pounds. Now I know
that I cannot do it.”
“Do you really mean that?” he asked, in a tone
of deep disappointment. “If you do, I am hurt.
It proves that the friendship which to me is so dear,
is to you a very slight thing."
“ You mustn't think that,” she pleaded. “ And
please, Mr. Draconmeyer, don't think that I don't
appreciate all your kindness. Short of accepting
your money, I would do anything to prove it.”


156 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ There need be no question of a gift,” he re-
minded her, in a low tone. “If I were a perfect
stranger, I might still be your banker. You must
have money from somewhere. Are you going to ask
your husband? ”
She bit her lip for a moment. If indeed he had
known her actual position, his hopes would have been
higher still.
“I cannot possibly ask Henry for anything,” she
confessed. “I had made up my mind to ask him
to authorise the lawyers to advance me my next quar-
ter's allowance. After — what has passed between
us, though, and — considering everything, I don't
feel that I can do it."
“ Then may I ask how you really mean to get more
money ? ” he went on gently.
She looked at him a little piteously.
“ Honestly, I don't know,” she admitted. “I will
be quite frank with you. Henry allows me two thou-
sand, five hundred a year. I brought nine hundred
pounds out with me, and I have nothing more to come
until June.”
“ And how much have you left of the nine hundred
pounds ? ” he asked.
“ Not enough to pay my hotel bill,” she groaned.
He smiled.
“ Circumstances are too strong for you,” he de-
clared. “You must go to a banker. I claim the
right of being that banker. I shall draw up a prom-
issory note — no, we needn't do that — two or three
cheques, perhaps, dated June, August and October.
I shall charge you five per cent. interest and I shall
lend you a thousand pounds."


158 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
She seemed suddenly years younger. The pros-
pect of the evening before her was enchanting.
“ You really are delightful!” she exclaimed.
“ You can't think how differently I shall feel when I
go into the Club to-night. I am perfectly certain
that it's having plenty of money that helps one to
win.”
He smiled.
“ And plenty of courage,” he added. “Don't
waste your time trifling with small stakes. Bid up
for the big things. It is the only way in gambling
and in life.”
He rose to his feet and their eyes met for a mo-
ment. Once more she felt vaguely troubled. She
put that disturbing thought away from her, how-
ever. It was foolish to think of drawing back now.
If he admired her — well, so did most men!


CHAPTER XV
INTERNATIONAL POLITICS
The Villa Mimosa flamed with lights from the top
story to the ground-foor. The entrance gates stood
wide-open. All along the drive, lamps flashed from
unsuspected places beneath the yellow-flowering
trees. One room only seemed shrouded in darkness
and mystery, and around that one room was concen-
trated the tense life of the villa. Thick curtains had
been drawn with careful hands. The heavy door
had been securely closed. The. French-windows
which led out on to the balcony had been almost bar-
ricaded. The four men who were seated around
the oval table had certainly secured for themselves
what seemed to be a complete and absolute isolation.
Yet there was, nevertheless, a sense of uneasiness, an
indescribable air of tension in the atmosphere. The
quartette had somehow the appearance of conspira-
tors who had not settled down to their work. It
was the last arrival, the man who sat at Mr. Grex's
right hand, who was responsible for the general un-
rest.
Mr. Grex moved a little nervously in the chair
which he had just drawn up to the table. He looked
towards Draconmeyer as he opened the proceedings.
“ Monsieur Douaille," he said, “ has come to see
us this evening at my own urgent request. Before


160 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
we commence any sort of discussion, he has asked me
to make it distinctly understood to you both — to
you, Mr. Draconmeyer, and to you, Herr Selingman
- that this is not in any sense of the word a formal
meeting or convention. We are all here, as it hap-
pens, by accident. Our friend Selingman, for in-
stance, who is a past master in the arts of pleasant
living, has not missed a season here for many years.
Draconmeyer is also an habitué. I myself, it is
true, have spent my winters elsewhere, for various
reasons, and am comparatively a stranger, but my
visit here was arranged many months ago. You
yourself, Monsieur Douaille, are a good Parisian,
and no good Parisian should miss his yearly pilgrim-
ages to the Mecca of the pleasure-seeker. We meet
together this evening, therefore, purely as friends
who have a common interest at heart.”
The man from whom this atmosphere of nervous-
ness radiated — a man of medium height, inclined
towards corpulence, with small grey imperial, a thin
red ribbon in his buttonhole, and slightly prominent
features — promptly intervened. He had the air
of a man wholly ill-at-ease. All the time Mr. Grex
had been speaking, he had been drumming upon the
table with his forefinger.
“Precisely! Precisely!” he exclaimed. “ Above
all things, that must be understood. Ours is a
chance meeting. My visit in these parts is in no
way connected with the correspondence I have had
with one of our friends here. Further,” Monsieur
Douaille continued impressively, “it must be dis-
tinctly understood that any word I may be disposed
to utter, either in the way of statement or criticism,
sito. Furtherhave hanno


INTERNATIONAL POLITICS 161
is wholly and entirely unofficial. I do not even know
what the subject of our discussion is to be. I ap-
proach it with the more hesitation because I gather,
from some slight hint which has fallen from our
friend here, that it deals with a scheme which, if ever
it should be carried into effect, is to the disadvan-
tage of a nation with whom we are at present on
terms of the greatest friendship. My presence here,
except on the terms I have stated,” he concluded, his
voice shaking a little, “would be an unpardonable
offence to that country.”
Monsieur Douaille's somewhat laboured explana-
tion did little to lighten the atmosphere. It was
the genius of Herr Selingman which intervened. He
leaned back in his chair and he patted his waistcoat
thoughtfully.
“I have things to say,” he declared, “but I can-
not say them. I have nothing to smoke — no ciga-
rette, no cigar. I arrive here choked with dust.
As yet, the circumstance seems to have escaped our
host's notice. Ah! what is that I see?” he added,
rising suddenly to his feet. “My host, you are ac-
quitted. I look around the table here at which I
am invited to seat myself, and I perceive nothing
but a few stumpy pens and unappetising blotting-
paper. By chance I lift my eyes. I see the parting
of the curtains yonder, and behold!”
He rose and crossed the room, throwing back a
curtain at the further end. In the recess stood a
sideboard, laden with all manner of liqueurs and
wines, glasses of every size and shape, sandwiches,
pasties, and fruit. Herr Selingman stood on one
side with outstretched hand, in the manner of a


INTERNATIONAL POLITICS 163
are the conversations of four friends, met together
upon what is nothing more or less than a holiday.
I hate the sight of those sheets of blotting-paper
and clean pens. Who wants to make notes, espe-
cially of what we are going to talk about! The
man who cannot carry notes in his head is no states-
man.”
Monsieur Douaille, who had chosen champagne
and was smoking a cigarette, beamed approval.
Much of his nervousness had departed.
“I agree,” he declared, “I like well the attitude
of our friend Selingman. There is something much
too formal about this table. I am not here to talk
treaties or to upset them. To exchange views, if
you will — no more. Meanwhile, I appreciate this
very excellent champagne, the cigarettes are deli-
cious, and I remove myself to this easy-chair. If
any one would talk world politics, I am ready. Why
not? Why should we pretend that there is any
more interesting subject to men like ourselves, in
whom is placed the trust of our country? "
Mr. Grex nodded his head in assent.
“ The fault is mine,” he declared, “ but, believe me,
it was not intentional. It was never my wish to
give too formal an air to our little meeting — in
fact I never intended to do more than dwell on the
outside edge of great subjects to-night. Unfortu-
nately, Monsieur Douaille, neither you nor I, what-
ever our power or influence may be, are directly re-
sponsible for the foreign affairs of our countries.
We can, therefore, speak with entire frankness.
Our countries — your country and mine — are to-
day bound together by an alliance. You have some-


164 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
thing which almost approaches an alliance with an-
other country. I am going to tell you in plain
words what I think you have been given to under-
stand indirectly many times during the last few
years — that understanding is not approved of in
St. Petersburg."
Monsieur Douaille knocked the ash from his ciga-
rette. He gazed thoughtfully into the fire of pine
logs which was burning upon the open hearth.
“Mr. Grex,” he said, “ that is plainer speaking
than we have ever received from any official source."
"I admit it," Mr. Grex replied. “ Such a state-
ment on my part may sound a little startling, but I
make it advisedly. I know the feeling — you will
grant that my position entitles me to know the feel-
ing — of the men who count for anything in Rus-
sian politics. Perhaps I do not mean the titular
heads of my Government. There are others who
have even more responsibilities, who count for more.
I honestly and truthfully assure you that I speak
for the powers that are behind the Government of
Russia when I tell you that the English dream of a
triple alliance between Russia, England, and France
will never be accepted by my country.”
Monsieur Douaille sipped his champagne.
“ This is candour,” he remarked, “ absolute can-
dour. One speaks quite plainly, I imagine, before
our friend the enemy?” he added, smiling towards
Selingman.
“Why not? ” Selingman demanded. “Why not,
indeed? We are not fools here.”
“ Then I would ask you, Mr. Grex,” Monsieur
Douaille continued, “ where in the name of all that is


INTERNATIONAL POLITICS 165
equitable are you to find an alliance more likely to
preserve the status quo in Europe? Both logically
and geographically it absolutely dovetails. Russia
is in a position to absorb the whole attention of Aus-
tria and even to invade the north coast of Germany.
The hundred thousand troops or so upon which we
could rely from Great Britain, would be invaluable
for many reasons — first, because a mixture of blood
is always good; secondly, because the regular army
which perforce they would have to send us, is of very
fine fighting material; and thirdly, because they
could land, to give away a very open secret to you,
my friend Selingman, in a westerly position, and
would very likely succeed thereby in making an out-
flanking movement towards the north. I presume
that at present the German fleet would not come
out to battle, in which case the English would cer-
tainly be able to do great execution upon the north-
ern coast of Germany. All this, of course, has been
discussed and written about, and the next war been
mapped out in a dozen different ways. I must con-
fess, however, that taking every known consideration
into account, I can find no other distribution of
powers so reasonable or so favourable to my coun-
try.”
Mr. Grex nodded.
“I find no fault with any word of what you have
said,” he declared, “ except that yours is simply the
superficial and obvious idea of the man in the street
as to the course of the next probable war. Now let
us go a little further. I grant all the points which
you urge in favour of your suggested triple alliance.
I will even admit that your forecast of a war tak-


166 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
ing place under such conditions, is a fairly faithful
one. We proceed, then. The war, if it came to
pass, could never be decisive. An immense amount
of blood would be shed, treasure recklessly poured
out, Europe be rendered desolate, for the sake most
largely of whom? — of Japan and America. That
is the weakness of the whole thing. A war carried
out on the lines you suggest would be playing the
game of these two countries. Even the victors
would be placed at a huge disadvantage with them,
to say nothing of the losers, who must see slipping
away from them forever their place under the sun.
It is my opinion — and I have studied this matter
most scientifically and with the help of the Secret
Service of every country, not excepting your own,
Herr Selingman — it is my opinion that this war
must be indecisive. The German fleet would be crip-
pled and not destroyed. The English fleet would
retain its proportionate strength. No French ad-
vance into Germany would be successful, no German
advance into France is likely. The war would lan-
guish for lack of funds, through sheer inanition it
would flicker out, and the money of the world would
flow into the treasuries of America. Russia would
not be fighting for her living. With her it could be
at best but a half-hearted war. She would do her
duty to the alliance. Nothing more could be
hoped from her. You could not expect, for in-
stance, that she would call up all her reserves, leave
the whole of her eastern frontier unprotected, and
throw into mid-Europe such a force as would in time
subjugate Germany. This could be done but it will
not be done. We all know that.”


INTERNATIONAL POLITICS
167
Monsieur Douaille smoked thoughtfully for sev-
eral moments.
“ Very well,” he pronounced at last, “ I am rather
inclined to agree with all that you have said. Yet
it seems to me that you evade the great point. The
status quo is what we desire, peace is what the
world wants. If, before such a war as you have
spoken of is begun, people realise what the end of it
must be, don't you think that that itself is the great-
est help towards peace? My own opinion is, I tell
you frankly, that for many years to come, at any
rate, there will be no war.”
Herr Selingman set down his glass and turned
slowly around.
" Then let me tell you that you are mistaken,” he
declared solemnly. “ Listen to me, my friend Dou-
aille — my friend, mind, and not the statesman Dou-
aille. I am a German citizen and you are a French
one, and I tell you that if in three years' time your
country does not make up its mind to strike a blow
for Alsace and Lorraine, then in three years' time
Germany will declare war upon you.”
Monsieur Douaille had the expression of a man
who doubts. Selingman frowned. He was sud-
denly immensely serious. He struck the palm of one
hand a great blow with his clenched fist.
" Why is it that no one in the world understands,"
he cried, “ what Germany wants? I tell you, Mon-
sieur Douaille, that we don't hate your country.
We love it. We crowd to Paris. We expand there.
It is the holiday place of every good German. Who
wants a ruined France? Not we! Yet, unless there
is a change in the international situation, we shall


168 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
go to war with you and I will tell you why. There
are no secrets about this sort of thing. Every poli-
tician who is worth his salt knows them. The only
difficulty is to know when a country is in earnest,
and how far it will go. That is the value of our
meeting. That is what I am here to say. We shall
go to war with you, Monsieur Douaille, to get Calais,
and when we've got Calais — oh, my God!” Seling-
man almost reverently concluded, “ then our solemn
task will be begun.”
“ England!” Monsieur Douaille murmured.
There was a brief pause. Selingman had seemed,
for a moment, to have passed into the clouds.
There was a sort of gloomy rapture upon his face.
He caught up Douaille's last word and repeated it.
“ England! England, and through her ..."
He moved to the sideboard and filled his tumbler
with wine. When he came back to his place, his ex-
pression had lightened.
“ Ah, well! dear Monsieur Douaille,” he exclaimed,
patting the other's shoulder in friendly fashion, “ to-
night we merely chatter. To-night we are here to
make friends, to gain each the confidence of the
other. To ourselves let us pretend that we are lit-
tle boys, playing the game of our nation — France,
Germany, and Russia. Germany and Russia, to be
frank with you, are waiting for one last word from
Germany's father, something splendid and definite
to offer. What we would like France to do, while
France loses its money at roulette and Airts with the
pretty ladies at Ciro's, is to try and accustom itself
not to an alliance with Germany — no! Nothing
so utopian as that. The lion and the lamb may re-






“What we ask of France is that she



ر
ک
- رہ
ut she looks the other way."
Page 169.





INTERNATIONAL POLITICS 169
main apart. They may agree to be friends, they
may even wave paws at one another, but I do not
suggest that they march side by side. What we ask
of France is that she looks the other way. It is very
easy to look the other way. She might look, for in-
stance — towards Egypt.”
There was a sudden glitter in the eyes of Mon-
sieur Douaille. Selingman saw it and pressed on.
“ There are laurels to be won which will never
fade,” he continued, setting down his empty tumbler,
“ laurels to be won by that statesman of your coun-
try, the little boy France, who is big enough and
strong enough to stand with his feet upon the earth
and proclaim — I am for France and my own peo-
ple, and my own people only, and I will make them
great through all the centuries by seeing the truth
and leading them towards it, single-purposed, single-
minded.' . .. But these things are not to be dis-
posed of so readily as this wonderful Berncastler —
I beg its pardon, Berncastler Doctor — of our host.
For to-night I have said my say. I have whims, per-
haps, but with me serious affairs are finished for the
night. I go to the Sporting Club. Mademoiselle
keeps my place at the baccarat table. I feel in the
vein. It is a small place, Monte Carlo. Let us
make no appointments. We shall drift together.
And, monsieur,” he concluded, laying his hand for a
moment upon Douaille's shoulder, “ let the thought
sink into your brain. Wipe out that geographical
and logical map of Europe from your mind; see
things, if you can, in the new daylight. Then, when
the idea has been there for just a little time -- well,
we speak again. . . . Come, Draconmeyer. I am


170 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
relying upon your car to get me into Monte Carlo.
My bounteous host, Mr. Grex, good night! I touch
your hand with reverence. The man who possesses
such wine and offers it to his friends, is indeed a
prince.”
Mr. Grex rose a little unwillingly from his chair.
“ It is of no use to protest," he remarked, smiling.
“ Our friend Selingman will have his way. Besides,
as he reminded us, there is one last word to arrive.
Come and breathe the odours of the Riviera, Mon-
sieur Douaille. This is when I realise that I am not
at my villa on the Black Sea.”
They passed out into the hall and stood on the
terrace while the cars drew up. The light outside
seemed faintly violet. The perfume of mimosa and
roses and oleander came to him in long waves, subtle
and yet invigorating. Below, the lights of Monte
Carlo, clear and brilliant, with no northern fog or
mist to dull their radiance, shone like gems in the
mantle of night. Selingman sighed as he stepped
into the automobile.
“We are men who deserve well from history," he
declared, “ who, in the midst of a present so wonder-
ful, can spare time to plan for the generations to
come ! »


CHAPTER XVI
A BARGAIN WITH JEAN COULOIS
Selingman drew out his watch and held it under-
neath the electric light set in the back of the auto-
mobile.
“Good!” he declared. “It is not yet half-past
eleven.”
“ Too early for the Austria,” Draconmeyer mur-
mured, a little absently.
Selingman returned the watch to his pocket.
“ By no means," he objected. “ Mademoiselle is
doubtless amusing herself well enough, but if I go
now and leave in an hour, she will be peevish. She
might want to accompany us. To-night it would
not be convenient. Tell your chauffeur, Dracon-
meyer, to take us direct to the rendezvous. We can
at least watch the people there. One is always
amused. We will forget our nervous friend. These
little touches, Draconmeyer, my man, they mark
the man of genius, mind you. Did you notice how
his eyes lit up when I whispered that one word
'Egypt'? It is a great game when you bait your
hook with men and fish for empires!”
Draconmeyer gave an instruction to his chauffeur
and leaned back.
“If we succeed,” he began.
“Succeed?” Selingman interrupted. “Why,


172 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
man alive, he is on our hooks already! Be at rest,
my friend. The affair is half arranged. It remains
only with us to deal with one man.”
Draconmeyer's eyes sparkled beneath his specta-
*cles. A slow smile crept over his white face.
“ You are right," he agreed. “ That man is
best out of the way. If he and Douaille should
meet —”
“They shall not meet," Selingman thundered.
“I, Selingman, declare it. We are here already.
Good! The aspect of the place pleases me.”
The two men, arriving so early, received the dis-
tinguished consideration of a bowing maître d'hôtel
as they entered the Austria. They were ushered at
once to a round table in a favourable position. Sel-
ingman surrendered his hat and coat to the obsequi-
ous vestiaire, pulled down his waistcoat with a fa-
miliar gesture, spread his pudgy hands upon the ta-
ble and looked around him with a smile of benevolent
approval.
“I shall amuse myself here,” he declared confi-
dently. “ Pass the menu to me, Draconmeyer.
You have no more idea how to eat than a rabbit.
That is why you suffer from indigestion. At this
hour — why, it is not midnight yet — one needs sus-
tenance — sustenance, mark you, intelligently se-
lected, something nourishing yet not heavy. A
sheet of paper, waiter. You see, I like to write out
my dishes. It saves trouble and there are no dis-
appointments, nothing is forgotten. As to the wine,
show me the vintage champagnes. ... So! You
need not hurry with the meal. We shall spend some
time here."


A BARGAIN WITH JEAN COULOIS 173
Draconmeyer arrested the much impressed maître
d'hôtel as he was hurrying away.
“ Is there dancing here to-night?” he enquired.
“But certainly, monsieur,” the man replied. “A
Spanish lady, altogether ravishing, the equal of
Otéro at her best — Signorina Melita.”
“ She dances alone? ”
“By no means. There is the young Frenchman,
Jean Coulois, who is engaged for the season. A
wonderful pair, indeed! When May comes, they go
to the music-halls in Paris and London.”
Draconmeyer nodded approval.
“ Coulois was the name,” he whispered to Seling-
man, as the man moved away.
The place filled up slowly. Presently the supper
was served. Selingman ate with appetite, Dracon-
meyer only sparingly. The latter, however, drank
more freely than usual. The wine had, neverthe-
less, curiously little effect upon him, save for a
slight additional brightness of the eyes. His cheeks
remained pale, his manner distrait. He watched
the people enter and pass to their places, without any
apparent interest. Selingman, on the other hand,
easily absorbed the spirit of his surroundings. As
the night wore on he drank healths with his neigh-
bours, beamed upon the pretty little Frenchwoman
who was selling flowers, ate and drank what was set
before him with obvious enjoyment. Both men,
however, showed at least an equal interest when
Mademoiselle Melita, in Spanish costume, accom-
panied by a slim, dark-visaged man, began to dance.
Draconmeyer was no longer restless. He sat with
folded arms, watching the performance with a


174 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
strangely absorbed air. One thing, however, was
singular. Although Selingman was confessedly a
ladies' man, his eyes, after her first few movements,
scarcely rested for a moment upon the girl. Both
Draconmeyer and he watched her companion stead-
fastly. When the dance was over they applauded
with spirit. Selingman sat up in his place, a cham-
pagne bottle in his hand. He beckoned to the man,
who, with a little deprecating shrug of the shoulders,
swaggered up to their table with some show of con-
descension.
“A chair for Monsieur Jean Coulois, the great
dancer," Selingman ordered, “a glass, and another
bottle of wine. Monsieur Jean, my congratulations!
But a word in your ear. Her steps do not match
yours. It is you who make the dance. She has no
initiative. She can do nothing but imitate," he
added.
The dancer looked at his host a little curiously.
He was slightly built and without an atom of colour.
His black hair was closely cropped, his eyes of som-
bre darkness, his demeanour almost sullen. At Sel-
ingman's words, however, he nodded rapidly and
seated himself more firmly upon his chair. It was
apparent that although his face remained expres-
sionless, he was gratified.
“ They notice nothing, these others,” he remarked,
with a little wave of the hand. “ It is always the
woman who counts. You are right, monsieur. She
dances like a stick. She has good calves and she
rolls her eyes. The canaille applaud. It is always
like that. Your health, monsieur!”
He drank his wine without apparent enjoyment,


A BARGAIN WITH JEAN COULOIS 175
but he drank it like water. Selingman leaned across
the table.
“ Coulois,” he whispered, “ the wolves bay loudest
at night, is it not so?”
The man sat quite still. If such a thing had been
possible, he might have grown a shade paler. His
eyes glittered. He looked steadfastly at Selingman.
“Who are you?” he muttered.
“ The wolves sleep in the daytime,” Selingman re-
plied.
The dancer shrugged his shoulders. He held out
his glass to be replenished. The double password
had reassured him.
“Pardon, monsieur,” he said, “ these have been
anxious hours."
“ The little affair at La Turbie? ” Selingman sug-
gested.
Coulois set down his glass for the first time half
finished. His mouth had taken an evil turn. He
leaned across the table.
“See you,” he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper,
“ what happened, happened justly! Martin is re-
sponsible. The whole thing was conducted in the
spirit of a pantomime, a great joke. Who are we,
the Wolves, to brandish empty firearms, to shrink
from letting a little blood! Bah!”
He finished his wine. Selingman nodded approv-
ingly as he refilled his glass.
“My friend and I,” he confided, “ were amongst
those who were held up. Imagine it! We stood
against the wall like a row of dummies. Such treas-
ure as I have never before seen was poured into that
sack. Jewels, my friend, such as only the women of


178 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Draconmeyer nodded with grim approval.
“ It was devilish work he did in Sofia,” he said
softly. “But for him, much of this would have been
unnecessary.”
The dance was over. Both men joined enthusi-
astically in the applause. Coulois, with an insolent
nod to his admirers, returned to his seat. He threw
himself back in his chair, crossed his legs and held
out his empty glass. Though he had been dancing
furiously, there was not a single bead of perspiration
upon his forehead.
“ You are in good condition, my friend,” Seling-
man observed admiringly.
“I need to be for my work,” Coulois replied.
“ Let us get to business. There is no need to mince
words. What do you want with me? Who is the
quarry? ”
“ The man who ruined your little affair at La Tur-
bie and captured your comrade Martin," Selingman
whispered. “You see, you have every provocation
to start with.”
Coulois' eyes glittered.
“He was an Englishman,” he muttered.
“Quite true," Selingman assented. “ His name is
Hunterleys — Sir Henry Hunterleys. He lives at
the Hotel de Paris. His room is number 189. He
spends his time upon the Terrace, at the Café de
Paris, and in the Sporting Club. Every morning
he goes to the English Bank for his letters, deals
with them in his room, calls at the post-office and
takes a walk, often up into the hills.”
- “ Come, come, this is not so bad!” Coulois ex-
claimed." They laugh at us in the cafés and down


A BARGAIN WITH JEAN COULOIS 177
The leader of the orchestra was essaying upon his
violin the tentative strains of a popular air. The
girl had reappeared and was poising herself upon her
toes. The leader of the orchestra summoned Cou-
lois.
“I must dance,” he announced. “Afterwards I
will return.”
He leapt lightly to his feet and swung into the
room with extended arms. Draconmeyer looked
down at his plate.
“ It is a risk, this, we are running,” he muttered.
“ I do not see, Selingman, why you could not have
hired this fellow through Allen or one of the others.”
Selingman shook his head.
“ See here, Draconmeyer,” he explained, “ this is
one of the cases where agents are dangerous. For
Allen to have been seen with Jean Coulois here would
have been the same as though I had been seen with
him myself. I cannot, alas! in this place, with my
personality, keep my identity concealed. They
know that I am Selingman. They know well that
wherever I move, I have with me men of my Secret
Service. I cannot use them against Hunterleys.
Too many are in the know. Here we are simply
two visitors who talk to a dancer. We depart. We
do not see him again until afterwards. Besides, this
is where fate is with us. What more natural than
that the Wolves should revenge themselves upon the
man who captured one of their leaders? It was the
young American, Richard Lane, who really started
the debacle, but it was Hunterleys who seized Mar-
tin. What more natural than revenge? These fel-
lows hang by one another always.”


178 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Draconmeyer nodded with grim approval.
“ It was devilish work he did in Sofia,” he said
softly. “But for him, much of this would have been
unnecessary.”
The dance was over. Both men joined enthusi-
astically in the applause. Coulois, with an insolent
nod to his admirers, returned to his seat. He threw
himself back in his chair, crossed his legs and held
out his empty glass. Though he had been dancing
furiously, there was not a single bead of perspiration
upon his forehead.
“ You are in good condition, my friend,” Seling-
man observed admiringly.
“I need to be for my work,” Coulois replied.
“Let us get to business. There is no need to mince
words. What do you want with me? Who is the
quarry? ”
“ The man who ruined your little affair at La Tur-
bie and captured your comrade Martin,” Selingman
whispered. “You see, you have every provocation
to start with.”
Coulois' eyes glittered.
“He was an Englishman,” he muttered.
“Quite true," Selingman assented. “ His name is
Hunterleys — Sir Henry Hunterleys. He lives at
the Hotel de Paris. His room is number 189. He
spends his time upon the Terrace, at the Café de
Paris, and in the Sporting Club. Every morning
he goes to the English Bank for his letters, deals
with them in his room, calls at the post-office and
takes a walk, often up into the hills.”
“ Come, come, this is not so bad!” Coulois ex-
claimed. “ They laugh at us in the cafés and down






“That two hundred shall be five hundred. h
which they take him!"



Hred, but it must be a cemetery to
m!” Page 179.





180 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Wolves — we bite, we wound, we rob. But death —
ugh! There are ugly things to be thought of.”
“ And pleasant ones,” Draconmeyer reminded him.
“Five hundred louis is not enough. It shall be six
hundred. A man may do much with six hundred
golden louis.”
Selingman sat forward once more in his place.
“Look here,” he intervened, “ you go too far, my
friend. You never spoke to me of this. What have
you against Hunterleys?”
“ His nationality,” Draconmeyer answered coolly.
“I hate all Englishmen!”
The gaiety had left Selingman's face. He gazed
at his companion with a curious expression.
“My friend,” he murmured, “I fear that you are
vindictive.”
“ Perhaps," Draconmeyer replied quietly. “In
these matters I like to be on the safe side."
Jean Coulois struck the table lightly with his
small, feminine hand. He showed all his teeth as
though he had been listening to an excellent joke.
“ It is to be done,” he decided. “There is no
more to be said.”
Some visitors had taken the next table. Coulois
drew his chair a little closer to Draconmeyer.
“I accept the engagement,” he continued. “We
will talk no more. Monsieur desires my address ?
It is here," — scribbling on a piece of paper. “But
monsieur may be warned,” he added, with a light-
ning-like flash in his eyes as he became conscious of
the observation of some passers-by. “I will not
dance in England. I will not leave Monte Carlo be-
fore May. Half that sum — three hundred louis,


A BARGAIN WITH JEAN COULOIS 181
mind — must come to me on trust; the other three
hundred afterwards. Never fear but that I will give
satisfaction. Keep your part of the bargain," he
added, under his breath,“ and the Wolves' fangs are
already in this man's throat."
He danced again. The two men watched him.
Draconmeyer's face was as still and colourless as
ever. In Selingman's there was a shade of some-
thing almost like repulsion. He poured himself out
a glass of champagne.
“ Draconmeyer,” he exclaimed, “ you are a cold-
blooded fish, indeed! You can sit there without
blinking and think of this thing which we have done.
Now as for me, I have a heart. I can never see the
passing out of the game of even a bitter opponent,
without a shiver. Talk philosophy to me, Dracon-
meyer. My nerves are shaken.”
Draconmeyer turned his head. He, too, raised his
wine to his lips and drank deliberately.
“My friend,” he said, “ there is no philosophy
save one. A child cries for the star he may not
have; the weak man comforts himself in privation by
repeating to himself the dry-as-dust axioms con-
ceived in an alien brain, and weaving from them the
miserable comfort of empty words. The man who
knows life and has found wisdom, pays the price for
the thing he desires, and obtains it!"


CHAPTER XVII
DUTY INTERFERES AGAIN
Hunterleys sat that night alone in a seat at the
Opera for a time and lost himself in a maze of recol-
lections. He seemed to find himself growing younger
as he listened to the music. The days of a more
vivid and ardent sentimentality seemed to reassert
themselves. He thought of the hours when he had
sat side by side with his wife, the only woman to
whom he had ever given a thought; of the thrill
which even the touch of her fingers had given him, of
the drive home together, the little confidences and
endearments, the glamour which seemed to have been
thrown over life before those unhappy misunder-
standings. He remembered so well the beginning of
them all — the terrible pressure of work which was
thrown upon his shoulders, his engrossed days, his
disturbed nights; her patience at first, her subsequent
petulance, her final anger. He was engaged often
in departmental work which he could not even ex-
plain. She had taken up with unhappy facility the
rôle of a neglected wife. She declared that he had
ceased to care for the lighter ways. There had cer-
tainly been a time when her complaints had been
apparently justified, when the Opera had been
banned, theatres were impossible, when she could not
even rely upon his escort to a dinner or to a recep-


DUTY INTERFERES AGAIN 183
tion. He had argued with her very patiently at
first, but very unsuccessfully. It was then that her
friendship with Linda Draconmeyer had been so vig-
orously renewed, a friendship which seemed from the
first to have threatened his happiness. Had it been
his fault? he wondered. Had he really been too much
engrossed in his work? His country had made large
demands upon him in those days. Had he ever ex-
plained the matter fully and carefully enough to her?
Perhaps not. At any rate, he was the sufferer. He
realised more than ever, as the throbbing of the
music stole into his blood, the loneliness of his life.
And yet it seemed so hopeless. Supposing he threw
up his work and let things take their course? The
bare thought chilled him. He recognised it as un-
worthy. The great song of mortification from the
broken hero rang in his ears. Must every woman
bring to every man the curse of Delilah!...
He passed out of the building into the cool, starlit
night. People were strolling about in evening
clothes, hatless, the women in white opera cloaks and
filmy gowns, their silk-stockinged feet very much in
evidence, resembling almost some strange kind of
tropical birds with their little shrill laughter and
graceful movements, as they made their way towards
the Club or round to the Rooms, or to one of the
restaurants for supper. Whilst Hunterleys hesi-
tated, there was a touch upon his arm. He glanced
around.
“ Hullo, David!” he exclaimed. “Were you
waiting for me?”
The young man fell into step by his side.
“I have been to the hotel,” he said, in a low tone.


184 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ They thought you might be here. Can you come
up later — say at one o'clock?”
“ Certainly,” Hunterleys answered. “Where's
Sidney?”
“He's working now. He'll be home by half-past
twelve unless anything goes wrong. He thinks he'll
have something to tell you.”
“ I'll come,” Hunterleys agreed. “How's Fe-
licia ? "
“ All right, but working herself to death,” the
young man replied. “She is getting anxious, too.
Give her a word of encouragement if you see her to-
night. She was hoping you might have been up to
see her.”
“I won't forget,” Hunterleys promised.
The young man drifted silently away, and Hun-
terleys, after a moment's hesitation and a glance
at his watch, turned towards the Club. He climbed
the broad staircase, surrendered his hat and turned
in at the roulette room. The magic of the music was
still in his veins, and he looked around him almost
eagerly. There was no sign of Violet. He strolled
into the baccarat room but she was not there. Per-
haps she, too, had been at the Opera. In the bar
he found Richard Lane, sitting moodily alone. The
young man greeted him warmly.
“ Come and have a drink, Sir Henry," he
begged. “ I've got the hump."
Hunterleys sat down by his side.
“ Whiskey and apollinaris," he ordered. “ What's
the matter with you, Richard?”
“ She isn't here,” the young man declared. “ I've
been to the Rooms and she isn't there either."


DUTY INTERFERES AGAIN
185
“ What about the Opera ? ” Hunterleys asked.
“I started at the Opera," Lane confessed, “ took
a box so as to be able to see the whole house. I sat
through the first act but there wasn't a sign of her.
Then I took a spin out and had another look at the
villa. It was all lit up as though there were a party.
I very nearly marched in.”
“ Just as well you didn't, I think,” Hunterleys
remarked, smiling. “I see you're feeling just the
same about it.”
The young man did not even vouchsafe an an-
swer.
“ Then you're not going to take advantage of your
little warning and clear out?” Hunterleys contin-
ued.
“ Don't you think I'm big enough to take care of
myself? " Lane asked, with a little laugh. “Be-
sides, there's an American Consul here, and plenty
of English witnesses who saw the whole thing. Can't
think why they're trying on such a silly game.”
“ Mr. Grex may have influence,” Hunterleys sug-
gested.
“Who the mischief is my prospective father-in-
law?” Richard demanded, almost testily. “There's
an atmosphere about that house and the servants I
can't understand a bit.”
“ You wouldn't,” Hunterleys observed drily.
“Well, in a day or two I'll tell you who Mr. Grex is.
I'd rather not to-night.”
“ By the way,” Lane continued, “ your wife was
asking if you were here, a few minutes ago.”
Hunterleys rose quickly to his feet.
“Where is she? ”


186 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ She was at her usual place at the top roulette
table, but she gave it up just as I passed, said she
was going to walk about,” the young man replied.
“I don't think she has left yet."
Hunterleys excused himself hastily. In the little
space between the restaurant and the roulette rooms
he came suddenly upon Violet. She was leaning
back in an obscure corner, with her hands clasped
helplessly in her lap before her. She was sitting
quite still and his heart sank when he saw her. The
lines under her eyes were unmistakable now; her
cheeks, too, seemed to have grown hollow. Her first
look at him almost made him forget all their differ-
ences. There was something piteous in the tremble
of her lips. He drew a chair to her side.
“ Richard told me that you wished to speak to
me,” he began, as lightly as he could.
“I asked if he had seen you, a few minutes ago,"
she admitted. “I am afraid that my interest was
rather mercenary.”
“ You want to borrow some money?” he enquired,
taking out his pocket-book.
She looked at it, and though her eyes at first were
listless, they still seemed fascinated.
“I don't think I can play any more to-night,” she
sighed.
“ You have been losing? "
“ Yes!”
“ Come and have something,” he invited. “You
look tired.”
She rose willingly enough. They passed out, side
by side, into the little bar.
“ Some champagne?” he suggested.


DUTY INTERFERES AGAIN 189
his tone. Her manner changed instantly. She had
drawn herself a little away. She considered for a
moment.
“ Are you inclined to tell me with whom your ap-
pointment is, and for what purpose?” she asked
coldly. “I don't want to be exacting, but after the
request I have made, and your refusal —”
“I cannot tell you," he interrupted. “I can only
ask you to take my word for it that it is one which I
must keep.”
She rose suddenly to her feet.
“I forgot!” she exclaimed. “I haven't the
slightest right to your confidence. Besides, when I
come to think of it, I don't believe that I am hungry
at all. I shall try my luck with your money?”
“ Violet! ”
She swept away with a little farewell nod, half in-
solent, half angry. Hunterleys watched her take
her place at the table. For several moments he stood
by her side. She neither looked up nor addressed
him. Then he turned and left the place.


CHAPTER XVIII
A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE
Hunterleys remained in the hotel only long enough
to change his straw hat for a cap, put on a long,
light overcoat and take an ash stick from his ward-
robe. He left the place by an unfrequented entrance
and commenced at once to climb to the back part of
the town. Once or twice he paused and looked
around, to be sure that he was not followed. When
he had arrived as far as the Hotel de Prince de Galles,
he crossed the road. From here he walked very
quickly and took three turns in rapid succession.
Finally he pushed open a little gate and passed up a
tiled walk which led between a little border of rose
trees to a small white villa, covered with creepers.
A slim, girlish figure came suddenly out from the
porch and danced towards him with outstretched
hands.
“ At last!” she exclaimed. “At last! Tell me,
my co-guardian, how you are going to excuse your-
self? »
He took her outstretched hands and looked down
into her face. She was very small and dark, with
lustrous brown eyes and a very sensitive mouth, which
just now was quivering with excitement.
“ All the excuses have gone out of my head, Fe-


A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE 191
licia,” he declared. “You look such a little elf in
the moonlight that I can't do more than say that I
am sorry. But I have been busy."
She was suddenly serious. She clasped his arm
with both her hands and turned towards the house.
“Of course you have,” she sighed. “It seems too
bad, though, in Monte Carlo. Sidney and David are
like ghouls. I don't ask what it is all about — I
know better — but I wish it were all over, whatever
it is."
“Is Sidney back?” Hunterleys asked eagerly.
She nodded.
“He came in half-an-hour ago, looking like a
tramp. David is writing as though he hadn't a mo-
ment to spare in life. They are both waiting for
you, I think.”
“And you?” he enquired. “How do the rehear-
sals go?”
“ The rehearsals are all right,” she admitted, look-
ing up at him almost pathetically. “It's the night
itself that seems so awful. I know every word, I
know every note, and yet I can't feel sure. I can't
sleep for thinking about it. Only last night I had
a nightmare. I saw all those rows and rows of faces,
and the lights, and my voice went, my tongue was dry
and hard, not a word would come. And you were
there -- and the others ! ”
He laughed at her.
“ Little girl,” he said solemnly, “I shall have to
speak to Sidney. One of those two young men must
take you out for a day in the country to-morrow."
“They seem so busy,” she complained. “ They
don't seem to have time to think of me. I suppose I


192 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
had better let you go in. They'd be furious if they
thought I was keeping you.”
They passed into the villa, and with a farewell pat
of the hand Hunterleys left her and opened a door
on the left-hand side of the hall. The young man
who had met him coming out of the Opera was stand-
ing with his hands in his pockets, upon the hearth-
rug of an exceedingly untidy-looking apartment.
There was a table covered with papers, another piled
with newspapers. There were books upon the floor,
pipes and tobacco laid about haphazard. A space
had been swept clear upon the larger table for a type-
writer, a telephone instrument stood against the wall.
A man whose likeness to Felicia was at once ap-
parent, swung round in his chair as Hunterleys en-
tered. He had taken off his coat and waistcoat and
his trousers seemed smothered with dust.
“Regular newspaper correspondent's den,” Hun-
terleys remarked, as he looked around him. “I never
saw such a mess in my life. I wonder Felicia al-
lows it.”
“We don't let her come in,” her brother chuckled.
“ Is the door closed ? ”
“Fast,” Hunterleys replied, moving away from it.
“ Things are moving,” the other went on. “I
took the small car out to-day on the road to Cannes
and I expect I was the first to see Douaille.”
“I saw him myself,” Hunterleys announced. “I
was out on that road, walking.”
“ Douaille,” Roche continued, “ went direct to the
Villa Mimosa. Grex was there, waiting for him.
Draconmeyer and Selingman both kept out of the
way.”


A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE 193
Hunterleys nodded.
“ Reasonable enough, that. Grex was the man
to pave the way. Well?”
“At ten o'clock, Draconmeyer and Selingman ar-
rived. The Villa Mimosa gets more difficult every
day. I have only one friend in the house, although
it is filled with servants. Three-quarters of them
only speak Russian. My man's reliable but he is
in a terrible minority. The conference took place
in the library. It lasted about an hour and a half.
Selingman and Draconmeyer came out looking fairly
well satisfied. Half-an-hour later Douaille went on
to Mentone, to the Hotel Splendide, where his wife
and daughters are staying. No writing at all was
done in the room."
“ The conference has really begun, then,” Hunter-
leys observed moodily.
“ Without a doubt,” Roche declared. “I imag-
ine, though, that the meeting this evening was de-
voted to preliminaries. I am hoping next time,” he
went on, “ to be able to pass on a little of what is
said.”
“If we could only get the barest idea as to the na-
ture of the proposals,” Hunterleys said earnestly.
“Of course, one can surmise. Our people are al-
ready warned as to the long conferences which have
taken place between Grex and Selingman. They
mean something — there's no doubt about that.
And then this invitation to Douaille, and his coming
here so furtively. Everything points the same way,
but a few spoken words are better than all the sur-
mises in the world. It isn't that they are unreason-
able at home, but they must be convinced.”


194 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“It's the devil's own risk,” Roche sighed, “but I
am hard at it. I was about the place yesterday as
much as I dared. My plans are all ready now but
things looked pretty awkward at the villa to-night.
If they are going to have the grounds patrolled by
servants every time they meet, I'm done. I've cut a
pane of glass out of the dome over the library, and
I've got a window-cleaning apparatus round at the
back, and a ladder. The passage along the roof is
quite easy and there's a good deal of cover amongst
the chimneys, but if they get a hint, it will be touch
and go."
Hunterleys nodded. He was busy now, going
through the long sheets of writing which the other
young man had silently passed across to him. For
half-an-hour he read, making pencil notes now and
then in the margin. When at last he had finished,
he returned them and, sitting down at the table, drew
a packet of press cable sheets towards him and wrote
for some time steadily. When he had finished, he
read through the result of his labours and leaned
back thoughtfully in his chair.
“ You will send this off from Cannes with your
own, Briston? ” he asked.
The young man assented.
66 The car will be here at three,” he announced.
“ They'll be on their way by eight.”
“Press message, mind, to the Daily Post. If the
operator wants to know what Number l' means
after · Daily Post, you can tell him that it simply
indicates to which editorial room the message is to
be delivered.”
“ That's a clever idea,” Roche mused. “ Code dis-


A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE 195
patches to Downing Street might cause a little com-
ment.”
“ They wouldn't do from here,” Hunterleys de-
clared. “They might be safe enough from Cannes
but it's better to run no risks. These will be passed
on to Downing Street, unopened. Be careful to-
morrow, Sidney.”
“I can't see that they can do anything but throw
me out, Sir Henry,” Roche remarked. “I have my
Daily Post authority in my pocket, and my passport.
Besides, I got the man here to announce in the Monte
Carlo News that I was the accredited correspondent
for the district, and that David Briston had been
appointed by a syndicate of illustrated papers to
represent them out here. That's in case we get a
chance of taking photographs. I had some idea of
going out to interview Monsieur Douaille.”
Hunterleys shook his head.
“I shouldn't. The man's as nervous as he can
be now, I am pretty sure of that. Don't do anything
that might put him on his guard. Mind, for all we
know he may be an honest man. To listen to what
these fellows have to say doesn't mean that he's pre-
pared to fall in with their schemes. By the by,
you've nothing about the place, I suppose, if you
should be raided ? "
.“ Not a thing," was the confident reply. “We
are two English newspaper correspondents, and there
isn't a thing to be found anywhere that's not in keep-
ing, except my rather large make-up outfit and my
somewhat mixed wardrobe. I am not the only news-
paper correspondent who goes in for that, though.
Then there's Felicia. They all know who she is and


196 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
they all know that she's my sister. Anyhow, even
if I do get into trouble up at the Villa Mimosa, I
can't see that I shall be looked upon as anything
more than a prying newspaper correspondent. They
can't hang me for that.”
Hunterleys accepted a cigarette and lit it.
“I needn't tell you fellows,” he said gravely," that
this place is a little unlike any other in Europe.
You may think you're safe enough, but all the same
I wouldn't trust a living soul. By-the-by, I saw Fe-
licia as I came in. You don't want her to break
down, do you?”
“Good heavens, no!” her brother exclaimed.
“ Break down?” David repeated. “Don't sug-
gest such a thing!”
“ It struck me that she was rather nervy,” Hun-
terleys told them. “One of you ought to look after
her for an hour or two to-morrow.”
“I can't spare a moment,” her brother sighed.
“I'll take her out,” Briston declared eagerly.
“ There's nothing for me to do to-morrow till Sid-
ney gets back.”
“Well, between you, keep an eye on her,” Hunter-
leys advised. “And, Sidney, I don't want to make a
coward of you, and you and I both know that if
there's danger ahead it's our job to face it, but have
a care up at the Villa Mimosa. I don't fancy the
law of this Principality would see you out of any
trouble if they got an idea that you were an English
Secret Service man.”
Roche laughed shortly.
“Exactly my own idea,” he admitted. “How-
ever, we've got to see it through. I sha'n't consider


A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE 197
I've done my work unless I hear something of what
Grex and the others have to say to Douaille the next
time they meet.”
Hunterleys found Felicia waiting for him outside.
He shook his head reproachfully.
“A future prima donna,” he said, “ should go to
bed at ten o'clock.”
She opened the door for him and walked down the
path, her hands clasped in his arm.
“A future prima donna,” she retorted, “can't
do always what she likes. If I go to bed too early
I cannot sleep. To-night I am excited and nervous.
There isn't anything likely to bring trouble upon —
them, is there?”
“ Certainly not,” he replied promptly. “ Your
brother is full of enterprise, as you know. He runs
a certain amount of risk in his eagerness to acquire
news, but I never knew a man so well able to take care
of himself.”
“ And — and Mr. Briston?”
“Oh, he's all right, anyway,” Hunterleys assured
her. “His is the smaller part.”
She breathed a little sigh of relief. They had
reached the gate. She still had something to say.
Below them flared the lights of Monte Carlo. She
looked down at them almost wistfully.
“Very soon,” she murmured, “I shall know my
fate. Sir Henry,” she added suddenly, “ did I see
Lady Hunterleys to-day on the Terrace? ”
“ Lady Hunterleys is here,” he replied.
“ Am I — ought I to go and see her? ” she en-
quired. “You see, you have done so much for me,
I should like to do what you thought best.”
ass


198 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ Just as you like, child,” he replied, a little care-
lessly.
She clung to his arm. She seemed unwilling to let
him go.
“Dear co-guardian,” she murmured, “ to-night I
felt for a little time so happy, as though all the good
things in life were close at hand. Then I watched
you come up, and your step seemed so heavy, and you
stooped as though you had a load on your shoul-
ders.”
He patted her hand.
“ Little girl,” he advised, “run away in and take
care of your throat. Remember that everything de-
pends upon the next few hours. As for me, perhaps
I am getting a little old.”
“Oh, la, la !” she laughed. “ That's what Sidney
says when I tease him. I know I am only the mouse,
but I could gnaw through very strong cords.
Look!”
Her teeth gleamed white in the moonlight. He
swung open the gate.
“ Sing your way into the hearts of all these strange
people,” he bade her, smiling. “Sing the envy and
malice away from them. Sing so that they believe
that England, after all, is the one desirable coun-
try.”
“But I am going to sing in French," she pouted.
“ Your name,” he reminded her, " that is English.
'The little English prima donna,' that is what they
will be calling you.”
She kissed his hands suddenly as he parted from
her and swung off down the hill. Then she stood at
the gate, looking down at the glittering lights.


A MIDNIGHT CONFERENCE 199
Would they shine as brightly for her, she wondered,
in twenty-four hours' time? It was so much to strive
for, so much to lose, so wonderfully much to gain.
Slowly her eyes travelled upwards. The symbolism
of those higher lights calmed her fear. She drew a
great sigh of happiness.
“ Felicia!”
She turned around with a soft little laugh.
“ David!”


CHAPTER XIX
“ TAKE ME AWAY!”
Richard presented himself the next morning at the
Hotel de Paris.
“ Cheero!” he exclaimed, on being shown into Hun-
terleys' sitting-room. “ All right up to date, I see.”
Hunterleys nodded. He had just come in from
the bank and held his letters in his hand. Richard
seated himself on the edge of the table.
“I slept out on the yacht last night,” he said.
“Got up at six o'clock and had a swim. What
about a round of golf at La Turbie? We can get
down again by luncheon-time, before the people are
about.”
“ Afraid I can't,” Hunterleys replied. “I have
rather an important letter to go through carefully,
and a reply to think out.”
“You're a queer chap, you know,” Richard went
on. “You always seem to have something on but
I’m hanged if I can see how you pass your time here
in Monte Carlo. This political business, even if you
do have to put in a bit of time at it now and then,
can't be going on all the while. Monte Carlo, too!
So far as the women are concerned, they might as
well be off the face of the earth, and I don't think I've
ever seen you make a bet at the tables. How did


“TAKE ME AWAY!”
201
your wife do last night? I thought she seemed to be
dropping it rather.”
“I think that she lost,” Hunterleys replied indif-
ferently. “Her gambling, however, is like mine, I
imagine, on a fairly negligible scale.”
Richard whistled softly.
“Well, I don't know,” he observed. “I saw her
going for maximums yesterday pretty steadily. A
few thousands doesn't last very long at that little
game.”
Hunterleys smiled.
“ A few thousands !” he repeated. “I don't sup-
pose Violet has ever lost or won a hundred pounds
in her life.”
Richard abandoned the subject quickly. He was
obliged to tell himself that it was not his business to
interfere between husband and wife.
“ Say, Hunterleys,” he suggested, “ do you think
I could do something for the crowd on my little boat
- a luncheon party or a cruise, eh?”
“I should think every one would enjoy it im-
mensely,” Hunterleys answered.
“I can count on you, of course, if I arrange any-
thing?”
“I am afraid not,” Hunterleys regretted. “I am
too much engrossed now to make any arrangements."
“ I'm hanged if you don't get more mysterious
every moment!” Richard exclaimed vigorously.
“What's it all about? Can't you even be safe in
your room for five minutes without keeping one of
those little articles under your newspaper while you
read your letters ? ” he added, lifting with his stick
the sheet which Hunterleys had hastily thrown over


202 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
a small revolver. “What's it all about, eh? Are
you plotting to dethrone the Prince of Monaco and
take his place?”
“ Not exactly that,” Hunterleys replied, a little
wearily. “ Lane, old fellow, you're much better off
not to know too much. I have told you that there's
a kind of international conference going on about
here and I've sort of been pitchforked into the affair.
Over in your country you don't know much about this
sort of thing, but since I've been out of harness I've
done a good deal of what really amounts to Secret
Service work. One must serve one's country some-
how or other, you know, if one gets the chance.”
Richard was impressed.
“Gee!” he exclaimed. “ The sort of thing that
one reads about, eh, and only half believes. Who's
the French Johnny who arrived last night? "
“ Douaille. He's the coming President, they say.
I'm thinking of paying him a visit of ceremony this
afternoon.”
There was a knock at the door. A waiter entered
with a note upon a salver.
“ From Madame, monsieur,” he announced, pre-
senting it to Hunterleys.
The latter tore it open and read the few lines has-
tily:
Dear Henry,
If you could spare a few minutes, I should be glad
if you would come round to my apartment.
Yours,
Violet.
Hunterleys twisted the note up in his fingers.


“TAKE ME AWAY!”
203
“ Tell Lady Hunterleys that I will be round in a
few moments,” he instructed the servant.
Richard took up his stick and hat.
“ If you have an opportunity,” he said, “ ask Lady
Hunterleys what she thinks about a little party on
the yacht. If one could get the proper people to-
gether —”
“I'll tell her,” Hunterleys promised. “You'd bet-
ter wait till I get back.”
He made his way to the other wing of the hotel.
For the first time since he had been staying there,
he knocked at the door of his wife's apartments. Her
maid admitted him with a smile. He found Violet
sitting in the little salon before a writing-table. The
apartment was luxuriously furnished and filled with
roses. Somehow or other, their odour irritated him.
She rose from her place and hastened towards
him.
“ How nice of you to come so promptly!” she ex-
claimed. “You're sure it didn't inconvenience
you? »
“Not in the least,” he replied. “I was only talk-
ing to Richard Lane.”
“ You seem to have taken a great fancy to that
young man all at once,” she remarked.
Hunterlers was sitting upon the arm of an easy-
chair. He had picked up one of Violet's slippers
and was balancing it in his hand.
“Oh, I don't know. He is rather refreshing after
some of these people. He still has enthusiasms, and
his love affair is quite a poem. Aren't you up rather
early this morning?”
“I couldn't sleep,” she sighed. “I think it has


204 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
come to me in the night that I am sick of this place.
I wondered —”
She hesitated. He bent the slipper slowly back,
waiting for her to proceed.
“ The Draconmeyers don't want to go,” she went
on. “ They are here for another month, at least.
Linda would miss me terribly, I suppose, but I have
really given her a lot of my time. I have spent sey-
eral hours with her every day since we arrived, and I
don't know what it is — perhaps my bad luck, for
one thing -- but I have suddenly taken a dislike to
the place. I wondered—”
She had picked up one of the roses from a vase
close at hand, and was twirling it between her fingers.
For some reason or other she seemed ill at ease.
Hunterleys watched her silently. She was very pale,
but since his coming a slight tinge of pink colour
had stolen into her cheeks. She had received him
in a very fascinating garment of blue silk, which was
really only a dressing-gown. It seemed to him a
long time since he had seen her in so intimate a fash-
ion.
“I wondered,” she concluded at last, almost ab-
ruptly, “ whether you would care to take me away.”
He was, for a moment, bereft of words. Somehow
or other, he had been so certain that she had sent to
him to ask for more money, that he had never even
considered any other eventuality.
“ Take you away,” he repeated. “Do you really
mean take you back to London, Violet? ”
“Just anywhere you like,” she replied. “I am
sick of this place and of everything. I am weary to
death of trying to keep Linda cheerful — you don't


“TAKE ME AWAY!”
205
realise how depressing it is to be with her; and —
and every one seems to have got a little on my nerves.
Mr. Draconmeyer,” she added, a little defiantly, rais-
ing her eyes to his, “ has been most kind and delight-
ful, but — somehow I want to get away.”
He sat down on the edge of a couch. She seated
herself at the further end of it.
“ Violet,” he said, “ you have taken me rather by
surprise.”
“Well, you don't mind being taken by surprise
once in a while, do you?” she asked, a little petu-
lantly. “You know I am capricious — you have
told me so often enough. Here is a proof of it.
Take me back to London or to Paris, or wherever you
like.”
He was almost overwhelmed. It was unfortunate
that she had chosen that moment to look away and
could not see, therefore, the light which glowed in his
eyes.
“ Violet,” he assured her earnestly, “ there is noth-
ing in the world I should like so much. I would beg
you to have your trunks packed this morning, but
unfortunately I cannot leave Monte Carlo just now.”
“ Cannot leave Monte Carlo?” she repeated de-
risively. “Why, my dear man, you are a fish out of
water here! You don't gamble, you do nothing but
moon about and go to the Opera and worry about
your silly politics. What on earth do you mean
when you say that you cannot leave Monte Carlo?”
“I mean just what I say,” he replied. “I cannot
leave Monte Carlo for several days, at any rate."
She looked at him blankly, a little incredulously.
“ You have talked like this before, Henry,” she


206 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
said, “ and it is all too absurd. You must tell me
the truth now. You can have no business here. You
are travelling for pleasure. You can surely leave
a place or not at your own will?”
“ It happens,” he sighed, “ that I cannot. Will
you please be very kind, Violet, and not ask me too
much about this? If there is anything else I can
do," he went on, hesitatingly, “if you will give me
a little more of your time, if you will wait with me
for a few days longer ”
“ Can't you understand,” she interrupted impa-
tiently, “ that it is just this very moment, this in-
stant, that I want to get away? Something has
gone wrong. I want to leave Monte Carlo. I am
not sure that I ever want to see it again. And I
want you to take me. . . . Please!”
She held out her hands, swaying a little towards
him. He gripped them in his. She yielded to their
pressure until their lips almost met.
“You'll take me away this morning? ” she whis-
pered.
“I cannot do that,” he replied, “but, Violet --"
She snatched herself away from him. An ungov- ,
ernable fit of fury seemed to have seized her. She
stood in the centre of the room and stamped her
foot.
“You cannot !” she repeated. “And you will not
give me a reason? Very well, I have done my best,
I have made my appeal. I will stay in Monte Carlo,
then. I will —”
There was a knock at the door.
“ Come in,” she cried. “Who is it?"
The door was softly opened. Draconmeyer stood


“ TAKE ME AWAY!”
207
upon the threshold. He looked from one to the other
in some surprise.
“I am sorry,” he murmured. “Please excuse
me.”
“ Come in, Mr. Draconmeyer,” she called out to
his retreating figure. “ Come in, please. How is
Linda this morning?”
Draconmeyer smiled a little ruefully as he returned.
“ Complaining,” he replied, “as usual. I am
afraid that she has had rather a bad night. She is
going to try and sleep for an hour or two. I came
to see if you felt disposed for a motor ride this
morning?”
“I should love it,” she assented. “I should like
to start as soon as possible. Henry was just going,
weren't you?” she added, turning to her husband.
He stood his ground.
“ There was something else I wished to say,” he
declared, glancing at Draconmeyer.
The latter moved at once towards the door but
Violet stopped him.
“Not now,” she begged. “ If there is really any-
thing else, Henry, you can send up a note, or I dare
say we shall meet at the Club to-night. Now, please,
both of you go away. I must change my clothes
for motoring. In half an hour, Mr. Draconmeyer.”
“ The car will be ready,” he answered.
Hunterleys hesitated. He looked for a moment at
Violet. She returned his glance of appeal with a
hard, fixed stare. Then she turned away.
“ Susanne,” she called to her maid, who was in the
inner room, “ I am dressing at once. I will show
you what to put out."


208 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
She disappeared, closing the connecting door be-
hind her. The two men walked out to the lift in si-
lence. Draconmeyer rang the bell.
“You are not leaving Monte Carlo at present,
then, Sir Henry? " he remarked.
“Not at present,” Hunterleys replied calmly.
They parted without further speech Hunterleys
returned to his room, where Richard was still wait-
ing.
“Say, have you got a valet here with you?” the
young man enquired.
Hunterleys shook his head.
“ Never possessed such a luxury in my life,” he de-
clared.
“ Chap came in here directly you were gone —
mumbled something about doing something for you.
I didn't altogether like the look of him, so I sat on
the table and watched. He hung around for a mo-
ment, and then, when he saw that I was sticking it
out, he went off.”
“Was he wearing the hotel livery?” Hunterleys
asked quickly.
“ Plain black clothes,” Richard replied. “He
looked the valet, right enough.”
Hunterleys rang the bell. It was answered by a
servant in grey livery.
“ Are you the valet on this floor? ” Hunterleys en-
quired.
“ Yes, sir!"
“ There was a man in here just now, said he was
my valet or something of the sort, hung around for
a minute or two and then went away. Who was
he? "


“TAKE ME AWAY!”
209
The servant shook his head. He was apparently a
German, and stupid.
“ There are no valets on this floor except my-
self,” he declared.
“ Then who could this person have been? ” Hun-
terleys demanded.
“A tailor, perhaps," the man suggested, “but he
would not come unless you had ordered him. I have
been on duty all the time. I have seen no one about.”
“ Very well,” Hunterleys said, “I'll report the
matter in the office.”
“ Some hotel thief, I suppose," Lane remarked,
as soon as the door was closed. “He didn't look
like it exactly, though.”
Hunterleys frowned.
“Not much here to satisfy any one's curiosity,"
he observed. “Just as well you were in the room,
though.”
“ Surrounded by mysteries, aren't you, old chap?"
Richard yawned, lighting a cigarette.
“I don't know exactly about that,” Hunterleys
replied, “but I'll tell you one thing, Lane. There
are things going on in Monte Carlo at the present
moment which would bring out the black headlines
on the halfpenny papers if they had an inkling of
them. There are people here who are trying to draw
up a new map of Europe, a new map of the world.”
Richard shook his head.
“I can't get interested in anything, Hunterleys,”
he declared. “You could tell me the most amazing
things in the world and they'd pass in at one ear
and out at the other. Kind of a blithering idiot,
eh? You know what I did last night after dinner.


210 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
If you'll believe me, when I got to the villa, I found
the place patrolled as though they were afraid of
dynamiters. I skulked round to the back, got on
the beach, and climbed a little way up towards the
rock garden. I hid there and waited to see if she'd
come out on the terrace. She never came, but I
caught a glimpse of her passing from one room to
another, and I tell you I'm such a poor sort of an
idiot that I felt repaid for waiting there all that
time. I shall go there again to-night. The boys
wanted me to dine — Eddy Lanchester and Montres-
sor and that lot -- a jolly party, too. I sha'n't do
it. I shall have a mouthful alone somewhere and
spend the rest of the evening on those rocks. Some-
thing's got to come of this, Hunterleys."
“Let's go into the lounge for a few moments,"
Hunterleys suggested. “I may as well hear all
about it.”
They made their way downstairs, and sat there
talking, or rather Hunterleys listened while Richard
talked. Then Draconmeyer strolled across the hall
and waited by the lift. Presently he returned with
Violet by his side, followed by her maid, carrying
rugs. As they approached, Hunterleys rose slowly
to his feet. Violet was looking up into her compan-
ion's face, talking and laughing. She either did not
see Hunterleys, or affected not to. He stood, for a
moment, irresolute. Then, as she passed, she glanced
at him quite blankly and waved her hand to Richard.
The two disappeared. Hunterleys resumed his seat.
He had, somehow or other, the depressing feeling of
a man who has lost a great opportunity.
“ Lady Hunterleys looks well this morning," Lane


CHAPTER XX
WILY MR. DRACONMEYER
They had skirted the wonderful bay and climbed
the mountainous hill to the frontier before Violet
spoke. All the time Draconmeyer leaned back by her
side, perfectly content. A man of varied subtleties,
he understood and fully appreciated the intrinsic
value of silence. Whilst the Customs officer, how-
ever, was making out the deposit note for the car,
she turned to him.
“ Will you tell me something, Mr. Draconmeyer? ”
“Of course!”
“ It is about my husband,” she went on. “Henry
isn't your friend — you dislike one another, I know.
You men seem to have a sort of freemasonry which
compels you to tell falsehoods about one another, but
in this case I am going to remind you that I have
the greater claim, and I am going to ask you for the
sober truth. Henry has once or twice, during the
last few days, hinted to me that his presence in
Monte Carlo just now has some sort of political sig-
nificance. He is very vague about it all, but he evi-
dently wants me to believe that he is staying here
against his own inclinations. Now I want to ask
you a plain question. Is it likely that he could have
any business whatever to transact for the Govern-


WILY MR. DRACONMEYER 213
ment in Monte Carlo? What I mean is, could there
possibly be anything to keep him in this place which
for political reasons he couldn't tell me about?”
“I can answer your question finally so far as re-
gards any Government business,” Mr. Draconmeyer
assured her. “Your husband's Party is in Opposi-
tion. As a keen politician, he would not be likely to
interest himself in the work of his rival.”
“You are quite sure," she persisted, “ you are
quite sure that he could not have a mission of any
sort? — that there isn't any meeting of diplomatists
here in which he might be interested?”
Mr. Draconmeyer smiled with the air of one listen-
ing to a child's prattle.
“If I were not sure that you are in earnest — !”
he began. “However, I will just answer your ques-
tion. Nothing of the sort is possible. Besides,
people don't come to Monte Carlo for serious affairs,
you know.”
Her face hardened a little.
“I suppose,” she said, “ that you are quite sure
of what you told me the other evening about this
young singer — Felicia Roche? ”
“I should not allude to a matter of that sort,” he
declared, “ unless I had satisfied myself as to the
facts. It is true that I owe nothing to your hus-
band and everything to you, or I should have prob-
ably remained silent. As it is, all that I know is at
your service. Felicia Roche is to make her debut
at the Opera House to-night. Your husband has
been seen with her repeatedly. He was at her villa
at one o'clock this morning. I have heard it said
that he is a little infatuated."


214 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ Thank you,” she murmured, “ that is quite
enough.”
The formalities were concluded and the car drove
on. They paused at the last turn to gaze downward
at the wonderful view — the gorgeous Bay of Men-
tone, a thousand feet below, with its wealth of mi-
mosa-embosomed villas; Monte Carlo glittering on
the seaboard; the sweep of Monaco, red-roofed, pic-
turesque. And behind, the mountains, further away
still, the dim, snow-capped heights. Violet looked,
as she was bidden, but her eyes seemed incapable of
appreciation. When the car moved on, she leaned
back in her seat and dropped her veil. She was
paler even than when they had started.
“I am going to talk to you very little,” he said
gravely. “I want you just to rest and breathe this
wonderful air. If my reply to your question trou-
bles you, I am sorry, but you had to know it some
day. It is a wrench, of course, but you must have
guessed it. Your husband is a man of peculiar tem-
perament, but no man could have refused such an
offer as you made him, unless there had been some
special reason for it — no man in the world.”
There was a little tremble in his tone, artistic and
not overdone. Somehow, she felt that his admira-
tion ministered to her self-respect. She permitted
his hand to remain upon hers. The touch of her fin-
gers very nearly brought the torrent from his lips.
He crushed the words down, however. It was too
great a risk. Very soon things would be different;
he could afford to wait.
They drove on to San Remo and turned into the
hotel


WILY MR. DRACONMEYER 215
“ You are better away from Monte Carlo for a
few hours," he decided. "We will lunch here and
drive back afterwards. You will feel greatly re-
freshed.”
She accepted his suggestion without enthusiasm
and with very little show of pleasure. They found
a table on the terrace in a retired corner, surrounded
with flowering cactus plants and drooping mimosa,
and overhung by a giant oleander tree. He talked
to her easily but in gossiping fashion only, and al-
ways with the greatest respect. It was not until the
arrival of their coffee that he ventured to become at
all personal.
“ Will you forgive me if I talk without reserve for
a few moments?” he began, leaning a little towards
her. “ You have your troubles, I know. May I not
remind you that you are not alone in your sorrows?
Linda, as you know, has no companionship whatever
to offer. She does nothing but indulge in fretful re-
grets over her broken health. When I remember,
too, how lonely your days are, and think of your
husband and what he might make of them, then I
cannot help realising with absolute vividness the su-
preme irony of fate. Here am I, craving for noth-
ing so much on earth as the sympathy, the affection
of — shall I say such a woman as you? And your
husband, who might have the best, remains utterly
indifferent, content with something far below the sec-
ond best. And there is so much in life, too,” he went
on, regretfully. “I cannot tell you how difficult it
is for me to sit still and see you worried about such
a trifle as money. Fancy the joy of giving you
money!”


216 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
She awoke a little from her lethargy. She looked
at him, startled.
“You haven't told me yet,” he added, “how the
game went last night?”
“I lost every penny of that thousand pounds," she
declared. “That is why I sent for my husband this
morning and asked him to take me back to England.
I am getting afraid of the place. My luck seems to
have gone for ever.”
He laughed softly.
“ That doesn't sound like you,” he observed.
“ Besides, what does it matter? Write me out some
more cheques when we get back. Date them this
year or next, or the year after - it really doesn't
matter a bit. My fortune is at your disposal. If it
amuses you to lose a thousand pounds in the after-
noon, and twice as much at night, pray do."
She laughed at him. There was a certain glamour
about his words which appealed to her fancy.
“Why, you talk like a prince,” she murmured,
“ and yet you know how impossible it is.”
“Is it?” he asked quietly.
She rose abruptly from her place. There was
something wrong — she felt it in the atmosphere -
something that was almost choking her.
“ Let us go back," she insisted.
He ordered the car without another word and they
started off homewards. It was not until they were
nearing Monte Carlo that he spoke of anything save
the slightest topics.
“You must have a little more money,” he told her,
in a matter-of-fact tone. “ That is a necessity.
There is no need to worry your husband. I shall


WILY MR. DRACONMEYER 217
go and bring you a thousand pounds. You can give
me the cheques later."
She sat looking steadfastly ahead of her. She
seemed to see her numbers spread out before her, to
hear the click of the ball, the croupier's voice, the
thrill of victory.
“I have taken more money from you than I meant
to, already, Mr. Draconmeyer,” she protested.
“ Does Linda know how much you have lent me? "
He shrugged his shoulders.
“What is the use of telling her? She does not
understand. She has never felt the gambling fever,
the joy of it, the excitement. She would not be
strong enough. You and I understand. I have felt
it in the money-markets of the world, where one plays
with millions, where a mistake might mean ruin.
That is why the tables seem dull for me, but all the
same it comes home to me.”
She felt the fierce stimulus of anxious thought.
She knew very well that notwithstanding his quiet
manner, she had reason to fear the man who sat by
her side. She feared his self-restraint, she feared
the light which sometimes gleamed in his eyes when
he fancied himself unobserved. He gave her no cause
for complaint. All the time his behaviour had been
irreproachable. And yet she felt, somehow or other,
like a bird who is being hunted by a trapper, a trap-
per who knows his business, who goes about it with
quiet confidence, with absolute certainty. There
was something like despair in her heart.
“Well, I suppose I shall have to stay here,” she
said, “ and I can't stay here without playing. I will
take a thousand more, if you will lend it to me.”


CHAPTER XXI
ASSASSINATION!
Selingman, a large cigar between his lips and a
happy smile upon his face, stood in the square before
the Casino, watching the pigeons. He had just en-
joyed an excellent lunch, he was exceedingly pleased
with a new light grey suit which he was wearing, and
his one unsatisfied desire was for companionship.
Draconmeyer was away motoring with Lady Hun-
terleys, Mr. Grex was spending the early part of the
day in conclave with their visitor from France, and
Mademoiselle Nipon had gone to Nice for the day.
Selingman had been left to his own devices and was
beginning to find time hang upon his hands. Con-
versation and companionship were almost as great
necessities with him as wine. He beamed upon the
pigeons and looked around at the people dotted about
in chairs outside the Café de Paris, hoping to find an
acquaintance. It chanced, however, that he saw
nothing but strangers. Then his eyes fell upon a
man who was seated with folded arms a short dis-
tance away, a man of respectable but somewhat
gloomy appearance, dressed in dark clothes, with
pale cheeks and cavernous eyes. Selingman strolled
towards him.
“ How go things, friend Allen? ” he enquired,
dropping his voice a little.


220 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
The man glanced uneasily around. There was,
however, no one in his immediate vicinity.
“ Badly,” he admitted.
“ Still no success, eh? ” Selingman asked, drawing
up a chair and seating himself.
“The man is secretive by nature,” was the gloomy
reply. “One would imagine that he knew he was
being watched. Everything which he receives in the
way of a written communication is at once torn up.
He is the most difficult order of person to deal with
- he is methodical. He has only the hotel valet to
look after his things but everything is always in its
place. Yesterday I went through his waste-paper
basket. I took home the contents but the pieces
were no larger than sixpences. I was able to put to-
gether one envelope which he received yesterday
morning, which was franked · On His Majesty's Serv-
ice,' and the post-mark of which was Downing
Street.”
Selingman shook his head ponderously and then
replied seriously:
“You must do better than that, my Sherlock
Holmes — much better.”
“I can't make bricks without straw,” Allen re-
torted sullenly.
“ There is always straw if one looks in the right
place," Selingman insisted, puffing away at his cigar.
“What we want to discover is, exactly how much
does Hunterleys know of certain operations of ours
which are going on here? He is on the watch —
that I am sure of. There is one known agent in the
place, and another suspected one, and I am pretty
certain that they are both working at his instigation.


ASSASSINATION!
221
What we want to get hold of is one of his letters to
London.”
“I have been in and out of his rooms at all hours,"
the other said. “I have gone into the matter thor-
oughly, so thoroughly that I have taken a situation
with a firm of English tailors here, and I am sup-
posed to go out and tout for orders. That gives me
a free entrée to the hotel. I have even had a com-
mission from Sir Henry himself. He gave me a coat
to get some buttons sewn on. I am practically free
of his room but what's the good? He doesn't even
lead the Monte Carlo life. He doesn't give one a
chance of getting at him through a third person.
No notes from ladies, no flower or jewelry bills, not
the shadow of an assignation. The only photograph
upon his table is a photograph of Lady Hunterleys."
“ Better not tell our friend Draconmeyer that,"
Selingman observed, smiling to himself. “Well,
well, you can do nothing but persevere, Allen. We
are not niggardly masters. If a man fails through
no fault of his own, well, we don't throw him into
the street. Nothing parsimonious about us. No
need for you to sit about with a face as long as a
fiddle because you can't succeed all at once. We are
the people to kick at it, not you. Drink a little
more wine, my friend. Give yourself a liqueur after
luncheon. Stick a cigar in your mouth and go and
sit in the sunshine. Make friends with some of the
ladies. Remember, the sun will still shine and the
music play in fifty years' time, but not for you.
Come and see me when you want some more money."
“You are very kind, sir," the man replied. “I
am going across to the hotel now. Sir Henry has


222 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
been about there most of the morning but he has just
gone in to Ciro's to lunch, so I shall have at least
half-an-hour.”
“Good luck to you!” Selingman exclaimed heart-
ily. “Who knows but that the big things may
come, even this afternoon? Cheer up, and try and
make yourself believe that a letter may be lying on
the table, a letter he forgot to post, or one sent
round from the bank since he left. I am hopeful for
you this afternoon, Allen. I believe you are going
to do well. Come up and see me afterwards, if you
will. I am going to my hotel to lie down for half-an-
hour. I am not really tired but I have no friend
here to talk with or anything to do, and it is a wise
economy of the human frame. To-night, mademoi-
selle will have returned. Just now every one has de-
serted me. I will rest until six o'clock. Au revoir,
friend Allen! Au revoir !”
Selingman climbed the hill and entered the hotel
where he was staying. He mounted to his room, took
off his coat, at which he glanced admiringly for a
moment and then hung up behind the door. Finally
he pulled down the blinds and lay down to rest.
Very soon he was asleep. ...
The drowsy afternoon wore on. Through the
open windows came the sound of carriages driven
along the dusty way, the shouts of the coachmen to
their horses, the jingling of bells, the hooting of
motor horns. A lime tree, whose leaves were stirred
by the languorous breeze, kept tapping against the
window. From a further distance came the faint,
muffled voices of promenaders, and the echo of the
guns from the Tir du Pigeons. But through it all,


ASSASSINATION!
223
Selingman, lying on his back and snoring loudly,
slept. He was awakened at last by the feeling that
some one had entered the room. He sat up and
blinked.
“ Hullo!” he exclaimed.
A man in the weird disguise of a motor-cyclist was
standing at the foot of the bed. Selingman contin-
ued to blink. He was not wholly awake and his vis-
itor's appearance was unpleasant.
“Who the devil are you?” he enquired.
The visitor took off his disfiguring spectacles.
“ Jean Coulois — behold!” was the soft reply.
Selingman raised himself and slid off the bed. It
had seemed rather like a dream. He was wide-awake
now, however.
“What do you want? " he asked. “What are you
here for?”
Jean Coulois said nothing. Then very slowly
from the inside pocket of his coat he drew a news-
paper parcel. It was long and narrow, and in
places there was a stain upon the paper. Seling-
man stared at it and stared back at Jean Coulois.
“ What the mischief have you got there?” he
demanded.
Coulois touched the parcel with his yellow fore-
finger. Selingman saw then that the stains were of
blood.
“Give me a towel,” his visitor directed. “I do
not want this upon my clothes."
Selingman took a towel from the stand and threw
it across the room.
“ You mean,” he asked, dropping his voice a little,
66 that it is finished ? "


224 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“A quarter of an hour ago," Jean Coulois an-
swered triumphantly. “He had just come in from
luncheon and was sitting at his writing-table. It
was cleverly done — wonderfully. It was all over in
a moment — not a cry. You came to the right
place, indeed! And now I go to the country,” Cou-
lois continued. “I have a motor-bicycle outside.
I make my way up into the hills to bury this little
memento. There is a farmhouse up in the moun-
tains, a lonely spot enough, and a girl there who
says what I tell her. It may be as well to be able to
say that I have been there for déjeuner. These little
things, monsieur — ah, well! we who understand
think of them. And since I am here,” he added,
holding out his hand —
Selingman nodded and took out his pocket-book.
He counted out the notes in silence and passed them
over. The assassin dropped them into his pocket.
“ Au revoir, Monsieur le Gros ! ” he exclaimed,
waving his hand. “We meet to-night, I trust. I
will show you a new dance — the Dance of Death, I
shall call it. I seem calm, but I am on fire with ex-
citement. To-night I shall dance as though quick-
silver were in my feet. You must not miss it. You
must come, monsieur.”
He closed the door behind him and swaggered off
down the passage. Selingman stood, for a moment,
perfectly still. It was a strange thing, but two big
tears were in his eyes. Then he heaved a great sigh
and shook his head.
“It is part of the game,” he said softly to himself,
“ all part of the game."


CHAPTER XXII
THE WRONG MAN
Selingman came out into the sunlit streets very
much as a man who leaves a dark and shrouded room.
The shock of tragedy was still upon him. There
was a little choke in his throat as he mingled with
the careless, pleasure-loving throng, mostly wending
their way now towards the Rooms or the Terrace.
As he crossed the square towards the Hotel de Paris,
his steps grew slower and slower. He looked at the
building half-fearfully. Beautifully dressed women,
men of every nationality, were passing in and out all
the time. The commissionaire, with his little group
of satellites, stood sunning himself on the lowest step,
a splendid, complacent figure. There was no signi
there of the horror that was hidden within. Even
while he looked up at the windows he felt a hand upon
his arm. Draconmeyer had caught him up and had
fallen into step with him.
“Well, dear philosopher,” he exclaimed, “why
this subdued aspect? Has your solitary day de-
pressed you?”
Selingman turned slowly around. Draconmeyer's
eyes beneath his gold-rimmed spectacles were bright.
He was carrying himself with less than his usual
stoop, he wore a red carnation in his buttonhole,


THE WRONG MAN
227
crossed the road and entered the gardens. “ Cou-
lois found him in his rooms, seated at the writing-
table. It was all over, he declares, in ten seconds.
He came to me — with the knife. He was on his
way to the mountains to hide it.”
They found a seat under a drooping lime tree.
They could still see the hotel and the level stretch
of road that led past the post-office and the Club to
Monaco. Draconmeyer sat with his eyes fixed upon
the hotel, through which streams of people were still
passing. One of the under-managers was welcoming
the newcomers from a recently arrived train.
“ You are right,” he murmured. “Nothing is
known yet. Very likely they will not know until the
valet goes to lay out his clothes for dinner. ...
Dead!”
Selingman, with one hand gripping the iron arm
of the seat, watched his companion's face with a sort
of fascinated curiosity. There were beads of per-
spiration upon Draconmeyer's forehead, but his ex-
pression, in its way, was curious. There was no hor-
ror in his face, no fear, no shadow of remorse. Some
wholly different sentiment seemed to have trans-
formed the man. He was younger, more virile. He
seemed as though he could scarcely sit still.
“ My friend,” Selingman said, “I know that you
are one of our children, that you are one of those
who have seen the truth and worked steadfastly for
the great cause with the heart of a patriot and the
unswerving fidelity of a strong man. But tell me
the honest truth. There is something else in your
life — you have some other feeling about this man
Hunterleys' death? ”


228 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Draconmeyer removed his eyes from the front of
the hotel and turned slowly towards his companion.
There was a transfiguring smile upon his lips.
Again he gave Selingman the impression of complete
rejuvenation, of an elderly man suddenly trans-
formed into something young and vigorous.
“ There is something else, Selingman,” he con-
fessed. “This is the moment when I dare speak of
it. I will tell you first of any living person. There
is a woman over there whom I have set up as an idol,
and before whose shrine I have worshipped. There
is a woman over there who has turned the dull paths
of my life into a flowery way. I am a patriot, and I
have worked for my country, Selingman, as you have
worked. But I have worked, also, that I might
taste for once before I die the great passion. Don't
stare at me, man! Remember I am not like you.
You can laugh your way through the world, with a
kiss here and a bow there, a ribbon to your lips at
night, thrown to the winds in the morning. I
haven't that sort of philosophy. Love doesn't come
to me like that. It's set in my heart amongst the
great things. It's set there side by side with the
greatest of all.”
“ His wife! ” Selingman muttered.
“ Are you so colossal a fool as only to have guessed
it at this moment? ” Draconmeyer continued con-
temptuously. “ If he hadn't blundered across our
path here, if he hadn't been my political enemy, I
should still some day have taken him by the throat
and killed him. You don't know what risks I have
been running," he went on, with a sudden hoarseness.
“In her heart she half loves him still. If he hadn't


THE WRONG MAN
229
been a fool, a prejudiced, over-conscientious, stiff-
necked fool, I should have lost her within the last
twenty-four hours. I have had to fight and scheme
as I have never fought and schemed before, to keep
them apart. I have had to pick my way through
shoals innumerable, hold myself down when I have
been burning to grip her by the wrists and tell
her that all that a man could offer a woman was
hers. Selingman, this sounds like nonsense, I sup-
pose.”
“No," Selingman murmured, “not nonsense, but
it doesn't sound like Draconmeyer.”
“Well, it's finished,” Draconmeyer declared, with
a great sigh of content. “You know now. I enter
upon the final stage. I had only one fear. Jean
Coulois has settled that for me. I wonder whether
they know. It seems peaceful enough. No! Look
over there,” he added, gripping his companion's arm.
“ Peter, the concierge, is whispering with the others.
That is one of the managers there, out on the pave-
ment, talking to them.”
Selingman pointed down the road towards Mo-
naco.
“ See!” he exclaimed. “There is a motor-car
coming in a hurry. I fancy that the alarm must
have been given."
A grey, heavily-built car came along at a great
pace and swung round in front of the Hotel de Paris.
The two men stood on the pavement and watched.
A tall, official-looking person, with black, upturned
moustache, in somber uniform and a peaked cap, de-
scended.
“ The Commissioner of Police,” Selingman whis-


230 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
pered, “ and that is a doctor who has just gone in.
He has been found!”
They crossed the road to the hotel. The con-
cierge removed his hat as they turned to enter. To
all appearances he was unchanged — fat, florid,
splendid. Draconmeyer stepped close to him.
“Has anything happened here, Peter? ” he asked.
“ I saw the Commissioner of Police arrive in a great
hurry."
The man hesitated. It was obvious then that he
was disturbed. He looked to the right and to the
left. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, he seemed
to make up his mind to tell the truth.
“ It is the English gentleman, Sir Henry Hunter-
leys,” he whispered. “He has been found stabbed to
death in his room."
“ Dead? ” Draconmeyer demanded, insistently.
“ Stone dead, sir,” the concierge replied. “He
was stabbed by some one who stole in through the
bathroom — they say that he couldn't ever have
moved again. The Commissioner of Police is up-
stairs. The ambulance is round at the back to take
him off to the Mortuary.”
Selingman suddenly seized the man by the arm.
His eyes were fixed upon the topmost step. Violet
stood there, smiling down upon them. She was wear-
ing a black and white gown, and a black hat with
white ospreys. It was the hour of five o'clock tea
and many people were passing in and out. She
came gracefully down the steps. The two men re-
mained speechless.
“ I have been waiting for you, Mr. Draconmeyer,”
she remarked, smiling.


THE WRONG MAN
231
Draconmeyer remembered suddenly the packet of
notes which he had been to fetch from the bank. He
tried to speak but only faltered. Selingman had re-
moved his hat but he, too, seemed incapable of co-
herent speech. She looked at them both, aston-
ished.
“ Whatever is the matter with you both? ” she ex-
claimed. “Who is coming with me to the Club? I
decided to come this way round to see if I could
change my luck. That underground passage de-
presses me.”
Draconmeyer moved up a couple of steps. He
was quite himself now, grave but solicitous.
“ Lady Hunterleys,” he said, “I am sorry, but
there has been a little accident. I am afraid that
your husband has been hurt. If you will come back
to your room for a minute I will tell you about
it.”
All the colour died slowly from her face. She
swayed a little, but when Draconmeyer would have
supported her she pushed him away.
“An accident? ” she muttered. “I must go and
see for myself.”
She turned and re-entered the hotel swiftly. Dra-
conmeyer caught her up in the hall.
“Lady Hunterleys,” he begged earnestly,“ please
take my advice. I am your friend, you know. I
want you to go straight to your room. I will come
with you. I will explain to you then —” :
“I am going to Henry,” she interrupted, without
even a glance towards him. “I am going to my hus-
band at once. I must see what has happened.”
She rang the bell for the lift, which appeared al-


CHAPTER XXIII
TROUBLE BREWING
The maître d'hôtel had presented his bill. The
little luncheon party was almost over.
“ So I take leave,” Hunterleys remarked, as he sat
down his empty liqueur glass, “ of one of my re-
sponsibilities in life.”
“I think I'd like to remain a sort of half ward,
please,” Felicia objected, “in case David doesn't
treat me properly.”
“If he doesn't,” Hunterleys declared, “ he will
have me to answer to. Seriously, I think you young
people are very wise and very foolish and very much
to be envied. What does Sidney say about it?"
Felicia made a little grimace. She glanced around
but the tables near them were unoccupied.
“ Sidney is much too engrossed in his mysterious
work to concern himself very much about anything,"
she replied. “Do you know that he has been out all
night two nights this week already, and he is making
no end of preparations for to-day?”
Hunterleys nodded.
“I know that he is very busy just now," he as-
sented gravely. “I must come up and talk to him
this afternoon.”
“We left him writing,” Felicia said. “Of course,
he declares that it is for his beloved newspaper, but I


TROUBLE BREWING
235
am not sure. He scarcely ever goes out in the day-
time. What can he have to write about? David's
work is strenuous enough, and I have told him that if
he turns war correspondent again, I shall break it
off.”
“ We all have our work to do in life,” Hunterleys
reminded her. “You have to sing in Aïda to-night,
and you have to do yourself justice for the sake of a
great many people. Your brother has his work to
do, also. Whatever the nature of it may be, he has
taken it up and he must go through with it. It
would be of no use his worrying for fear that you
should forget your words or your notes to-night,
and there is no purpose in your fretting because
there may be danger in what he has to do. I prom-
ise you that so far as I can prevent it, he shall take
no unnecessary risks. Now, if you like, I will walk
home with you young people, if I sha'n't be terribly
in the way. I know that Sidney wants to see me.”
They left the restaurant, a few minutes later, and
strolled up towards the town. Hunterleys paused
outside a jeweler's shop.
“And now for the important business of the
day!” he declared. “I must buy you an engage-
ment present, on behalf of myself and all your
guardians. Come in and help me choose, both of
you. A girl who carries her gloves in her hand to
show her engagement ring, should have a better bag
to hang from that little finger.”
“You really are the most perfect person that ever
breathed!” she sighed. “You know I don't deserve
anything of the sort.”
They paid their visit to the jeweler and afterwards


236 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
drove up to the villa in a little victoria. Sidney
Roche was hard at work in his shirt-sleeves. He
greeted Hunterleys warmly.
“Glad you've come up!” he exclaimed. “ The
little girl's told you the news, I suppose? ”
“Rather!” Hunterleys replied. “I have been
lunching with them on the strength of it.”
“ And look !” Felicia cried, holding out the gold
bag which hung from her finger. “Look how I am
being spoiled.”
Her brother sighed.
“ Awful nuisance for me,” he grumbled, “having
to live with an engaged couple. You couldn't clear
out for a little time,” he suggested, “ both of you?
I want to talk to Hunterleys.”
“We'll go and sit in the garden,” Felicia assented.
“I suppose I ought to rest. David shall read my
score to me.”
They passed out and Roche closed the door behind
them carefully.
“ Anything fresh? ” Hunterleys asked.
“Nothing particular," was the somewhat guarded
reply. “ That fellow Frenhofer has been up here."
“ Frenhofer?” Hunterleys repeated, interroga-
tively.
“He is the only man I can rely upon at the Villa
Mimosa,” Roche explained. “I am afraid to-night
it's going to be rather a difficult job.”
“I always feared it would be,” Hunterleys agreed.
“ Frenhofer tells me,” Roche continued, “ that for
some reason or other their suspicions have been
aroused up there. They are all on edge. You
know, the house is cram-full of men-servants and
hthores, They care cel cens elegant, som


TROUBLE BREWING
237
there are to be a dozen of them on duty in the
grounds. Two or three of these fellows are nothing
more or less than private detectives, and they all of
them know what they're about or Grex wouldn't have
them.”
Hunterleys looked grave.
“ It sounds awkward,” he admitted.
“ The general idea of the plot,” Roche went on,
walking restlessly up and down the room, “ you and
I have already solved, and by this time they know it
in London. But there are two things which I feel
they may discuss to-night, which are of vital impor-
tance. The first is the date, the second is the terms
of the offer to Douaille. Then, of course, more im-
portant, perhaps, than either of these, is the matter
of Douaille's general attitude towards the scheme.”
“ So far,” Hunterleys remarked reflectively, “ we
haven't the slightest indication of what that may be.
Douaille came pledged to nothing. He may, after
all, stand firm.”
“For the honour of his country, let us hope so,"
Roche said solemnly. “ Yet I am sure of one thing.
They are going to make him a wonderful offer. He
may find himself confronted with a problem which
some of the greatest statesmen in the world have had
to face in their time — shall he study the material
benefit of his country, or shall he stand firm for her
honour?”
“It's a great ethical question,” Hunterleys de-
clared, “ too great for us to discuss now, Sidney.
Tell me, do you really mean to go on with this at-
tempt of yours to-night? ”
“I must,” Roche replied. “Frenhofer wants me


238 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
to give up the roof idea, but there is nothing else
worth trying. He brought a fresh plan of the room
with him. There it lies on the table. As you see,
the apartment where the meeting will take place is
almost isolated from the rest of the house. There
is only one approach to it, by a corridor leading from
the hall. The east and west sides will be patrolled.
On the south there is a little terrace, but the ap-
proach to it is absolutely impossible. There is a
sheer drop of fifty feet on to the beach.”
“You think they have no suspicion about the
roof? " Hunterleys asked doubtfully.
“ Not yet. The pane of glass is cut out and my
entrance to the house is arranged for. Frenhofer
will tamper with the electric lights in the kitchen
premises and I shall arrive in response to his tele-
phonic message, in the clothes of a working-man and
with a bag of tools. Then he smuggles me on to the
spiral stairway which leads out on to the roof where
the flag-staff is. I can crawl the rest of the way
to my place. The trouble is that notwithstanding
the ledge around, if it is a perfectly clear night, just
a fraction of my body, however flat I lie, might be
seen from the ground.”
Hunterleys studied the plan for a moment and
shook his head.
“It's a terrible risk, this, Roche,” he said seri-
ously.
“I know it,” the other admitted, “but what am
I to do? They keep sending me cipher messages
from home to spare no effort to send further news,
as you know very well, and two other fellows will be
here the day after to-morrow, to relieve me. I must


CHAPTER XXIV
HUNTER LEYS SCENTS MURDER
The concierge of the Hotel de Paris was a man of
great stature and imposing appearance. Neverthe-
less, when Hunterleys crossed the road and climbed
the steps to the hotel, he seemed for a moment like a
man reduced to pulp. He absolutely forgot his
usual dignified but courteous greeting. With mouth
a little open and knees which seemed to have col-
lapsed, he stared at this unexpected apparition as
he came into sight and stared at him as he entered
the hotel. Hunterleys glanced behind with a slight
frown. The incident, inexplicable though it was,
would have passed at once from his memory, but that
directly he entered the hotel he was conscious of the
very similar behaviour and attitude towards him of
the chief reception clerk. He paused on his way, a
little bewildered, and called the man to him. The
clerk, however, was already rushing towards the of-
fice with his coat-tails flying behind him. Hunter-
leys crossed the floor and rang the bell for the lift.
Directly he stepped in, the lift man vacated his place,
and with his eyes nearly starting out of his head,
seemed about to make a rush for his life.
“ Come back here,” Hunterleys ordered sternly.
“ Take me up to my room at once.”
The man returned unsteadily and with marked re-


242 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
luctance. He closed the gate, touched the handle
and the lift commenced to ascend.
“What's the matter with you all here?” Hunter-
leys demanded, irritably. “Is there anything wrong
with my appearance? Has anything happened? ”
The man made a gesture but said absolutely noth-
ing. The lift had stopped. He pushed open the
door.
“ Monsieur's floor,” he faltered.
Hunterleys stepped out and made his way towards
his room. Arrived there, he was brought to a sud-
den standstill. A gendarme was stationed outside.
“What the mischief are you doing here?” Hun-
terleys demanded.
The man saluted.
“ By orders of the Director of Police, monsieur."
“ But that is my room,” Hunterleys protested.
“I wish to enter.”
“No one is permitted to enter, monsieur,” the man
replied.
Hunterleys stared blankly at the gendarme.
“ Can't you tell me at least what has happened?"
he persisted. “I am Sir Henry Hunterleys. That
is my apartment. Why do I find it locked against
me?”
“ By order of the Director of the Police, mon-
sieur,” was the parrot-like reply.
Hunterleys turned away impatiently. At that
moment the reception clerk who downstairs had fed
at his approach, returned, bringing with him the
manager of the hotel. Hunterleys welcomed the lat-
ter with an air of relief.
“ Monsieur Picard,” he exclaimed, “ what on earth


HUNTERLEYS SCENTS MURDER 243
is the meaning of this? Why do I find my room
closed and this gendarme outside ? "
Monsieur Picard was a tall man, black-bearded,
immaculate in appearance and deportment, with
manners and voice of velvet. Yet he, too, had lost
his wonderful imperturbability. He waved away the
floor waiter, who had drawn near. His manner was
almost agitated.
“ Monsieur Sir Henry,” he explained, “ an affair
the most regrettable has happened in your room. I
have allotted to you another apartment upon the
same floor. Your things have been removed there.
If you will come with me I will show it to you. It is
an apartment better by far than the one you have
been occupying, and the price is the same.”
“But what on earth has happened in my room? ”
Hunterleys demanded.
“ Monsieur,” the hotel manager replied, “ some
poor demented creature who has doubtless lost his
all, in your absence found his way there and com-
mitted suicide."
“ Found his way into my room?” Hunterleys re-
peated. “But I locked the door before I went out.
I have the key in my pocket.”
“ He entered possibly through the bathroom,” the
manager went on, soothingly. “I am deeply grieved
that monsieur should be inconvenienced in any way.
This is the apartment I have reserved for monsieur,”
he added, throwing open the door of a room at the
end of the corridor. “It is more spacious and in
every way more desirable. Monsieur's clothes are
already being put away.”
Hunterleys glanced around the apartment. It


244 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
was certainly of a far better type than the one he
had been occupying, and two of the floor valets were
already busy with his clothes.
“ Monsieur will be well satisfied here, I am sure,”
the hotel manager continued. “May I be permitted
to offer my felicitations and to assure you of my im-
mense relief. There was a rumour — the affair oc-
curring in monsieur's apartment — that the unfor-
tunate man was yourself, Sir Henry.”
Hunterleys was thoughtful for a moment. He
began to understand the sensation which his appear-
ance had caused. Other ideas, too, were crowding
into his brain.
“ Look here, Monsieur Picard,” he said, “ of
course, I have no objection to the change of rooms
- that's all right — but I should like to know a lit-
tle more about the man who you say committed
suicide in my apartment. I should like to see
him.”
Monsieur Picard shook his head.
“ It would be a very difficult matter, that, mon-
sieur,” he declared. “ The laws of Monaco are
stringent in such affairs.”
“ That is all very well,” Hunterleys protested,
“ but I cannot understand what he was doing in my
apartment. Can't I go in just for a moment? ”
“ Impossible, monsieur! Without the permission
of the Commissioner of Police no one can enter that
room.”
“ Then I should like,” Hunterleys persisted, “ to
see the Commissioner of Police.”
Monsieur Picard bowed.
“ Monsieur the Commissioner is on the premises,


HUNTERLEYS SCENTS MURDER 245
without a doubt. I will instruct him of Monsieur
Sir Henry's desire.”
“I shall be glad if you will do so at once,” Hun-
terleys said firmly. “I will wait for him here.”
The manager made his escape and his relief was
obvious. Hunterleys sat on the edge of the bed.
“Do you know anything about this affair? ” he
asked the nearer of the two valets.
The man shook his head.
“Nothing at all, monsieur,” he answered, without
pausing from his labours.
“How did the fellow get into my room?"
“ One knows nothing,” the other man muttered.
Hunterleys watched them for a few minutes at
their labours.
“A nice, intelligent couple of fellows you are," he
remarked pleasantly. “ Come, here's a louis each.
Now can't you tell me something about the affair?”
They came forward. Both looked longingly at
the coins.
“ Monsieur,” the one he had first addressed regret-
ted, “ there is indeed nothing to be known. At this
hotel the wages are good. It is the finest situation a
man may gain in Monte Carlo or elsewhere, but if
anything like this happens, there is to be silence.
One dares not break the rule.”
Hunterleys shrugged his shoulders.
“ All right,” he said. “I shall find out what I
want to know, in time.”
The men returned unwillingly to their tasks. In
a moment or two there was a knock at the door.
The Commissioner of Police entered, accompanied
by the hotel manager, who at once introduced him.


248 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ Beyond which it is ridiculous ! ” Monsieur Picard
added.
Hunterleys sat quite silent for a moment.
“ Monsieur the Commissioner,” he said presently,
“ and Monsieur Picard, I recognise your point of
view. Believe me that I appreciate it and that I am
willing, to a certain extent, to acquiesce in it. At the
same time, there are considerations in this matter
which I cannot ignore. I do not wish to create any
disturbance or to make any statements likely to mil-
itate against the popularity of your wonderful ho-
tel, Monsieur Picard. Nevertheless, for personal
reasons only, notwithstanding the verdict of your
doctor, I should like for one moment to examine the
body.”
The Commissioner of Police was thoughtful for a
moment.
“ It shall be as monsieur desires,” he consented
gravely, “ bearing in mind what monsieur has said,”
he added with emphasis.
The three men left the room and passed down the
corridor. The gendarme in front of the closed door
stood on one side. The Commissioner produced a
key. They all three entered the room and Monsieur
Picard closed the door behind them. Underneath a
sheet upon the bed was stretched the figure of a man.
Hunterleys stepped up to it, turned down the sheet
and examined the prostrate figure. Then he re-
placed the covering reverently.
“ Yes," he said, “ that is the man who has called
upon me for orders from the English tailors. His
name, I believe, was, as you say, Allen. But can
you tell me, Monsieur the Commissioner, how it was


HUNTERLEYS SCENTS MURDER 249
possible for a man to stab himself from the shoulder
downwards through the heart?”
The Official extended his hands.
“ Monsieur,” he declared, “ it is not for us. The
doctor has given his certificate.”
Hunterleys smiled a little grimly.
“ I have always understood,” he observed, “ that
things were managed like this. You may have con-
fidence in me, Monsieur the Commissioner, and you,
Monsieur Picard. I shall not tell the world what I
suspect. But for your private information I will
tell you that this man was probably murdered by an
assassin who sought my life. You observe that there
is a certain resemblance.”
The hotel proprietor turned pale.
“Murdered!” he exclaimed. “Impossible! A
murder here — unheard of !”
The Commissioner dismissed the whole thing airily
with a wave of his hand.
“ The doctor has signed the certificate," he re-
peated.
“ And I,” Hunterleys added, as he led the way out
of the room, “ am more than satisfied — I am grate-
ful. So there is nothing more to be said.”


CHAPTER XXV
DRACONMEYER IS DESPERATE
Draconmeyer stood before the window of his room,
looking out over the Mediterranean. There was no
finer view to be obtained from any suite in the hotel,
and Monte Carlo had revelled all that day in the
golden, transfiguring sunshine. Yet he looked as a
blind man. His eyes saw nothing of the blue sea
or the brown-sailed fishing boats, nor did he once
glance towards the picturesque harbour. He saw
only his own future, the shattered pieces of his care-
fully-thought-out scheme. The first fury had
passed. His brain was working now. In her room
below, Lady Hunterleys was lying on the couch, half
hysterical. Three times she had sent for her hus-
band. If he should return at that moment, Dracon-
meyer knew that the game was up. There would be
no bandying words between them, no involved ex-
planations, no possibility of any further misunder-
standing. All his little tissue of lies and misrepre-
sentations would crumble hopelessly to pieces. The
one feeling in her heart would be thankfulness. She
would open her arms. He saw the end with fatal,
unerring truthfulness.
His servant returned. Draconmeyer waited ea-
gerly for his message.
“Lady Hunterleys is lying down, sir,” the man
man


DRACONMEYER IS DESPERATE 251
announced. “She is very much upset and begs you
to excuse her.”
Draconmeyer waved the man away and walked
up and down the apartment, his hands behind his
back, his lips hard-set. He was face to face with
a crisis which baffled him completely, and yet which
he felt to be wholly unworthy of his powers. His
brain had never been keener, his sense of power more
inspiring. Yet he had never felt more impotent.
It was woman's hysteria against which he had to
fight. The ordinary weapons were useless. He re-
alised quite well her condition and the dangers re-
sulting from it. The heart of the woman was once
more beating to its own natural tune. If Hunter-
leys should present himself within the next few min-
utes, not all his ingenuity nor the power of his
millions could save the situation.
Plans shaped themselves almost automatically in
his mind. He passed from his own apartments,
through a connecting door into a large and beauti-
fully-furnished salon. A woman with grey hair and
white face was lying on a couch by the window. She
turned her head as he entered and looked at him
questioningly. Her face was fragile and her fea-
tures were sharpened by suffering. She looked at
her husband almost as a cowed but still affectionate
animal might look towards a stern master.
“ Do you feel well enough to walk as far as Lady
Hunterleys' apartment with the aid of my arm ? "
he asked.
“ Of course,” she replied. “Does Violet want
me?”
“ She is still feeling the shock,” Draconmeyer


252 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
said. “I think that she is inclined to be hysterical.
It would do her good to have you talk with her.”
The nurse, who had been sitting by her side, as-
sisted her patient to rise. She leaned on her hus-
band's arm. In her other hand she carried a black
ebony walking-stick. They traversed the corridor,
knocked at the door of Lady Hunterleys' apartment,
and in response to a somewhat hesitating invitation,
entered. Violet was lying upon the sofa. She
looked up eagerly at their coming.
“ Linda!” she exclaimed. “How dear of you! I
thought that it might have been Henry,” she added,
as though to explain the disappointment in her tone.
Draconmeyer turned away to hide his expression.
“ Talk to her as lightly as possible,” he whispered
to his wife, “but don't leave her alone. I will come
back for you in ten minutes.”
He left the two women together and descended
into the hall. He found several of the reception
clerks whispering together. The concierge had only
just recovered himself, but the place was beginning
to wear its normal aspect. He whispered an en-
quiry at the desk. Sir Henry Hunterleys had just
come in and had gone upstairs, he was told. His
new room was number 148.
“ There was a note from his wife,” Draconmeyer
said, trying hard to control his voice. “Has he
had it? »
“ It is here still, sir,” the clerk replied. “I tried
to catch Sir Henry as he passed through, but he was
too quick for me. To tell you the truth,” he went
on, “ there has been a rumour through the hotel that
it was Sir Henry himself who had been found dead


DRACONMEYER IS DESPERATE 253
in his room, and seeing him come in was rather a
shock for all of us.”
“ Naturally,” Draconmeyer agreed. “If you will
give me the note I will take it up to him.”
The clerk handed it over without hesitation. Dra-
conmeyer returned immediately to his own apart-
ments and torn open the envelope. There were only
a few words scrawled across the half-sheet of note-
paper:
Henry, come to me, dear, at once. I have had such
a shock. I want to see you.
V1.
He tore the note viciously into small pieces. Then
he went back to Lady Hunterleys' apartments. She
was sitting up now in an easy-chair. Once more, at
the sound of the knock, she looked towards the door
eagerly. Her face fell when Draconmeyer entered.
“ Have you heard anything about Henry? ” she
asked anxiously.
“He came back a few minutes ago,” Draconmeyer
replied, “ and has gone out again.”
“Gone out again?”
Draconmeyer nodded.
“I think that he has gone round to the Club. He
is a man of splendid nerve, your husband. He seemed
to treat the whole affair as an excellent joke.”
“A joke!” she repeated blankly.
“ This sort of thing happens so often in Monte
Carlo,” he observed, in a matter-of-fact tone. “The
hotel people seem all to look upon it as in the day's
work.”
“I wonder if Henry had my note?” she faltered.
He
the whole affair your husband. He


254 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“He was reading one in the hall when I saw him,"
Draconmeyer told her. “That would be yours, I
should think. He left a message at the desk which
was doubtless meant for you. He has gone on to
the Sporting Club for an hour and will probably be
back in time to change for dinner.”
Violet sat quite still for several moments. Some-
thing seemed to die slowly out of her face. Presently
she rose to her feet.
“I suppose," she said, “ that I am very foolish to
allow myself to be upset like this.”
“It is quite natural,” Draconmeyer assured her
soothingly. “What you should try to do is to for-
get the whole circumstance. You sit here brooding
about it until it becomes a tragedy. Let us go down
to the Club together. We shall probably see your
husband there."
She hesitated. She seemed still perplexed.
“I wonder," she murmured, “could I send an-
other message to him? Perhaps he didn't quite un-
derstand.”
“Much better come along to the Club,” Dracon-
meyer advised, good-humouredly. “You can be
there yourself before a message could reach him.”
“Very well,” she assented. “I will be ready in
ten minutes." ....
Draconmeyer took his wife back to her room.
“ Did I do as you wished, dear?” she asked him
anxiously.
“ Absolutely,” he replied.
He helped her back to her couch and stooped and
kissed her. She leaned back wearily. It was ob-
vious that she had found the exertion of moving even


DRACONMEYER IS DESPERATE 255
so far exhausting. Then he returned to his own
apartments. Rapidly he unlocked his dispatch box
and took out one or two notes from Violet. They
were all of no importance — answers to invitations,
or appointments. He spread them out, took a sheet
of paper and a broad pen. Without hesitation he
wrote:
Congratulations on your escape, but why do you run
such risks! I wish you would go back to England.
VIOLET.
He held the sheet of notepaper a little away from
him and looked at it critically. The imitation was
excellent. He thrust the few lines into an envelope,
addressed them to Hunterleys and descended to the
hall. He left the note at the office.
“ Send this up to Sir Henry, will you? ” he in-
structed. “Let him have it as quickly as possi-
ble.”
Once more he crossed the hall and waited close to
the lift by which she would descend. All the time
he kept on glancing nervously around. Things were
going his way, but the great danger remained — if
they should meet first by chance in the corridor, or
in the lift! Hunterleys might think it his duty to
go at once to his wife's apartment in case she had
heard the rumour of his death. The minutes dragged
by. He had climbed the great ladder slowly. More
than once he had felt it sway beneath his feet. Yet
to him those moments seemed almost the longest
of his life. Then at last she came. She was looking
very pale, but to his relief he saw that she was
dressed for the Club. She was wearing a grey


256 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
dress and black hat. He remembered with a pang
of fury that grey was her husband's favourite col-
our.
“I suppose there is no doubt that Henry is at
the Club?” she asked, looking eagerly around the
hall.
“Not the slightest,” he assured her. “We can
have some tea there and we are certain to come
across him somewhere."
She made no further difficulty. As they turned
into the long passage he gave a sigh of relief. Ev-
ery step they took meant safety. He talked to her
as lightly as possible, ignoring the fact that she
scarcely replied to him. They mounted the stairs
and entered the Club. She looked anxiously up and
down the crowded rooms.
“I shall stroll about and look for Henry,” she an-
nounced.
“ Very well,” he agreed. “I will go over to your
place and see how the numbers are going.”
He stood by the roulette table, but he watched her
covertly. She passed through the baccarat room,
came out again and walked the whole length of the
larger apartment. She even looked into the restau-
rant beyond. Then she came slowly back to where
Draconmeyer was standing. She seemed tired. She
scarcely even glanced at the table.
“Lady Hunterleys," he exclaimed impressively,
“this is positively wicked! Your twenty-nine has
turned up twice within the last few minutes. Do sit
down and try your luck and I will go and see if I can
find your husband.”
He pushed a handful of plaques and a bundle of


DRACONMEYER IS DESPERATE 257
notes into her hand. At that moment the croupier's
voice was heard.
“Quatorze rouge, pair et manque.”
“ Another of my numbers !” she murmured, with
a faint show of interest. “I don't think I want to
play, though.”
“ Try just a few coups," he begged. “You see,
there is a chair here. You may not have a chance
again for hours.”
He was using all his will power. Somehow or
other, she found herself seated in front of the table.
The sight of the pile of plaques and the roll of notes
was inspiring. She leaned across and with trembling
fingers backed number fourteen en plein, with all the
carrés and chevaux. She was playing the game at
which she had lost so persistently. He walked
slowly away. Every now and then from a dis-
tance he watched her. She was winning and los-
ing alternately, but she had settled down now in
carnest. He breathed a great sigh of relief and
took a seat upon a divan, whence he could see if
she moved. Richard Lane, who had been stand-
ing at the other side of the table, crossed the room
and came over to him.
“Say, do you know where Sir Henry is? ” he en-
quired.
Draconmeyer shook his head.
“ I have scarcely seen him all day.”
“I think I'll go round to the hotel and look him
up,” Lane decided carelessly. “ I'm fed up with
this —”
He stopped short. He was no longer an exceed-
ingly bored and discontented-looking young man.


258 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Draconmeyer glanced at him curiously. He felt a
thrill of sympathy. This stolid young man, then,
was capable of feeling something of the same emo-
tion as was tearing at his own heartstrings. Lane
was gazing with transfigured face towards the open
doorway.


CHAPTER XXVI
EXTRAORDINARY LOVE-MAKING
Fedora sauntered slowly around the rooms, lean-
ing over and staking a gold plaque here and there.
She was dressed as usual in white, with an ermine
turban hat and stole and an enormous muff. Her
hair seemed more golden than ever beneath its snow-
· white setting, and her complexion more dazzling.
She seemed utterly unconscious of the admiration
which her appearance evoked, and she passed Lane
without apparently observing him. A moment aft-
erwards, however, he moved to her side and addressed
her.
“Quite a lucky coup of yours, that last, Miss
Grex. Are you used to winning en plein like that?”
She turned her head and looked at him. Her eye-
brows were ever so slightly uplifted. Her expres-
sion was chilling. He remained, however, absolutely
unconscious of any impending trouble.
“I was sorry not to find you at home this morn-
ing,” he continued. “I brought my little racing
car round for you to see. I thought you might
have liked to try her.”
“ How absurd you are!” she murmured. “You
must know perfectly well that it would have been
quite impossible for me to come out with you alone."
“But why?”


EXTRAORDINARY LOVE-MAKING 261
“ Come,” he protested, “ that's a little too bad.
Why, Russia may be a democracy some day, you
know. You very nearly had a republic foisted upon
you after the Japanese war.”
“You are quite mistaken,” she assured him.
“ Russia would never tolerate a republic.”
“Russia will some day have to do like many other
countries,” he answered firmly,—“ obey the will of
the people.”
“ Russia has nothing in common with other coun-
tries," she asserted. “ There was never a nation
yet in which the aristocracy was so powerful.”
“It's only a matter of time,” he declared, non-
chalantly.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“ You represent ideas of which I do not approve,”
she told him.
“I don't care a fig about any ideas,” he replied.
“I don't care much about anything in the world ex-
cept you.”
She turned her head slowly and looked at him.
Its angle was supercilious, her tone frigid.
“ That sort of a speech may pass for polite con-
versation in your country, Mr. Lane. We do not
understand it in mine.”
“Don't your men ever tell your women that they
love them?” he asked bluntly.
“ If they are of the same order,” she said, “if the
thing is at all possible, it may sometimes be done.
Marriage, however, is more a matter of alliance with
us. Our servants, I believe, are quite promiscuous
in their love-making."
He was silent for a moment. She may, perhaps,


262 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
have felt some compunction. She spoke to him a
little more kindly.
“We cannot help the ideas of the country in
which we are brought up, you know, Mr. Lane."
“ Of course not,” he agreed. “I understand that
perfectly. I was just thinking, though, what a lot
I shall have to teach you."
She was momentarily aghast. She recovered her-
self quickly, however.
“Are all the men of your nation so self-confi-
dent? "
“We have to be,” he told her. “It's the only
way we can get what we want."
“ And do you always succeed in getting what you
want?”
“ Always !”
“ Then unless you wish to be an exception,” she
advised, “let me beg you not to try for anything
beyond your reach.”
“ There is nothing,” he declared firmly, “ beyond
my reach. You are trying to discourage me. It
isn't any use. I am not a prince or a duke or any-
thing like that, although my ancestors were honest
enough, I believe. I haven't any trappings of that
sort to offer you. If you are as sensible as I think
you are, you won't mind that when you come to think
it over. The only thing I am ashamed of is my
money, because I didn't earn it for myself. You
can live in palaces still, if you want to, and if you
want to be a queen I'll ferret out a kingdom some-
where and buy it, but I am afraid you'll have to be
Mrs. Lane behind it all, you know.”
“You really are the most intolerable person,” she


EXTRAORDINARY LOVE-MAKING 263
exclaimed, biting her lip. “How can I get these ab-
surd ideas out of your mind?”
“ By telling me honestly, looking in my eyes all
the time, that you could never care for me a little bit,
however devoted I was,” he answered promptly.
“ You won't be able to do it. I've only one belief
in life about these things, and that is that when any
one cares for a girl as I care for you, it's absolutely
impossible for her to be wholly indifferent. It isn't
much to start with, I know, but the rest will come.
Be honest with me. Is there any one of the men of
your country whom you have met, whom you want
to marry?”
She frowned slightly. She found herself, at that
moment, comparing him with certain young men of
her acquaintance. She was astonished to realise that
the comparison was all in his favour. It was for her
an extraordinary moment. She had indeed been
brought up in palaces and the men whom she had
known had been reckoned the salt of the earth. Yet,
at that crisis, she was most profoundly conscious that
not all the glamour of those high-sounding names, the
picturesque interest of those gorgeous uniforms, nor
the men themselves, magnificent in their way, were
able to make the slightest appeal to her. She re-
membered some of her own bitter words when an alli-
ance with one of them had been suggested to her.
It was she, then, who had been the first to ignore the
divine heritage of birth, who had spoken of their
drinking habits, pointed to their life of idle luxury
and worse than luxury. The man who was at the
present moment her suitor forced himself upon her
recollection. She knew quite well that he repre-


264 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
sented a type. They were of the nobility, and they
seemed to her in that one poignant but unwelcome
moment, hatefully degenerate, men no self-respecting
girl could ever think of. Family influence, stern
parental words, the call of her order, had half
crushed these thoughts. They came back now, how-
ever, with persistent force.
“ You see,” Richard Lane went on," it mayn't be
much that I have to offer you, but in your heart I
know you feel what it means to be offered the love of
a man who doesn't want you just because you are of
his order, or because you are the daughter of a Per-
sonage, or for any other reason than because he cares
for you as he has cared for no other woman on earth,
and because, without knowing it, he has waited for
you."
She moved restlessly in her chair. Their conver-
sation was not going in the least along the lines
which she had intended. She suddenly remembered
her own disquiet of the day before, her curious long-
ing to steal off on some excuse to-day. A week ago
she would have been content to have dawdled away
the afternoon in the grounds of the villa. Some-
thing different had come. From the moment she had
entered the rooms, although she had never acknowl-
edged it, she had been conscious, pleasurably con-
scious of his presence. She was suddenly uneasy.
“I am afraid,” she murmured,“ that you are quite
hopeless.”
“ If you mean that I am without hope, you are
wrong,” he answered sturdily. “From the moment
I met you I have had but one thought, and until the
last day of my life I shall have but one thought, and
Jou.


EXTRAORDINARY LOVE-MAKING 265
that thought is of you. There may be no end of dif-
ficulties, but I come of an obstinate race. I have pa-
tience as well as other things.”
She was avoiding looking at him now. She looked
instead at her clasped hands.
“I wish I could make you understand,” she said,
in a low tone,“ how impossible all this is. In Eng-
land and America I know that it is different. There,
marriages of a certain sort are freely made between
different classes. But in Russia these things are not
thought of. Supposing that all you said were true.
Supposing, even, that I had the slightest disposition
to listen to you. Do you realise that there isn't one
of my family who wouldn't cry out in horror at the
thought of my marrying — forgive me — marrying
a commoner of your rank in life?”
“ They can cry themselves hoarse, as they'll have
to some day,” he replied cheerfully. “As for you,
Miss Fedora — you don't mind my calling you Miss
Fedora, do you? — you'll be glad some day that you
were born at the beginning of a new era. You may
be a pioneer in the new ways, but you may take
my word for it that you won't be the last. Please
have courage. Please try and be yourself, won't
you?"
“ But how do you know what I am? ” she pro-
tested. “Or even what I am like? We have spoken
only a few words. Nothing has passed between us
which could possibly have inspired you with such
feelings as you speak of,” she added, colouring
slightly. “It is a fancy of yours, quite too absurd
a fancy. Now that I find myself discussing it with
you as though, indeed, we were talking of it seri-


266 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
ously, I am inclined to laugh. You are just a very
foolish young man, Mr. Lane."
He shook his head.
“ Look here,” he said, “I am very good at mean-
ing things, but it's awfully hard for me to put my
thoughts into words. I can't explain how it's all
come about. I don't know why, amongst all the girls
I've seen in my own country, or England, or Paris, or
anywhere, there hasn't been one who could bring me
the things which you bring, who could fill my mind
with the thoughts you fill it with, who could make
my days stand still and start again, who could upset
the whole machinery of my life so that when you
come I want to dance with happiness, and when you
go the day is over with me. There is no chance of my
being able to explain this to you, because other fel-
lows, much cleverer than I, have been in the same
box, and they've had to come to the conclusion, too,
that there isn't any explanation. I have accepted it.
I want you to. I love you, Fedora, and I will be
faithful to you all my life. You shall live where you
choose and how you choose, but you must be my wife.
There isn't any way out of it for either of us."
She sat quite still for several moments. They
were a little behind the curtain and it chanced that
there was no one in their immediate vicinity. She
felt her fingers suddenly gripped. They were re-
leased again almost at once, but a queer sensation of
something overmastering seemed to creep through
her whole being at the touch of his hand. She rose
to her feet.
“I am going away,” she declared.
“I haven't offended you?” he begged. “Please


EXTRAORDINARY LOVE-MAKING 267
sit down. We haven't half talked over things yet.”
“We have talked too much,” she answered. “I
don't know really what has come over me that I have
let you — that I listen to you —”.
“ It is because you feel the truth of what I say,”
he insisted. “Don't get up, Fedora. Don't go
away, dear. Let us have at least these few minutes
together. I'll do exactly as you tell me. I'll come
to your father or I'll carry you off. I have a sister
here. She'll be your friend —”
“ Don't ! ” the girl stopped him. “Please don't !”
She sat down in her chair again. Her fingers
were twisted together, her slim form was tense with
stifled emotions.
“ Have I been a brute?” he asked softly. “ You
must forgive me, Fedora. I am not much used to
girls and I am sort of carried away myself, only I
want you to believe that there's the real thing in
my heart. I'll make you just as happy as a woman
can be. Don't shake your head, dear. I want you
to trust me and believe in me.”
“I think you're a most extraordinary person,”
she said at last. “Do you know, I'm beginning to
be really afraid of you."
“You're not,” he insisted. “You're afraid of
yourself. You're afraid because you see the down-
fall of the old ideas. You're afraid because you
know that you're going to be a renegade. You can
see nothing but trouble ahead just now. I'll take
you right away from that.”
There was the rustle of skirts, a soft little laugh.
Richard rose to his feet promptly. He had never
been so pleased in all his life to welcome his sister.


EXTRAORDINARY LOVE-MAKING 269
“ This doesn't mean, you know,” she said, “ that I
- that I agree to all you have been saying.”
“ It needn't mean anything at all, dear," he re-
plied. “This is only the beginning. I don't expect
you to realise all that I have realised quite so
quickly, but I do want you to keep it in your mind
that this thing has come and that it can't be got rid
of. I won't do anything foolish. If it is necessary
I will wait, but I am your lover now, as I always
must be.”
He handed her into the car, the footman, in his
long white livery, standing somberly on one side.
As they drove off she gave him her fingers, and he
walked back up the steps with the smile upon his lips
that comes to a man only once or twice in his life-
time.


272 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
He laughed, as though she had been a child speak-
ing of playthings.
“I am not sure that I shall wish you luck,” he
said. “I think that I like to feel that you are a lit-
tle — just a very little in my debt. Do you think
that I should be a severe creditor? ”
Something in his voice disturbed her vaguely, but
she brushed the thought away. Of course he ad-
mired her, but then every woman must have admirers.
It only remained for her to be clever enough to keep
him at arm's length. She had no fear for herself.
“ I haven't thought about the matter at all," she
answered carelessly, “but to me all creditors would
be the same, whether they were kind or unkind. I
hate the feeling of owing anything."
“ It is a question," he observed, “ how far one can
be said to owe anything to those who are really
friends. A husband, for instance. One can't keep
a ledger account with him.”
“A husband is a different matter altogether,” she
asserted coldly. “Now I wonder whether we shall
find my favourite table full. Anyhow, I am going
to play at the one nearest the entrance on the right-
hand side. There is a little croupier there whom I
like.”
They passed up through the entrance and across
the floor of the first suite of rooms to the Cercle
Privé. Violet looked eagerly towards the table of
which she had spoken. To her joy there was plenty
of room.
“My favourite seat is empty!” she exclaimed.
“ I know that I am going to be lucky.”
“I think that I shall play myself, for a change,"


PLAYING FOR HIGH STAKES 273
Draconmeyer announced, producing a great roll of
notes.
“ Whenever you feel that you would like to go
down and have something, don't mind me, will you?”
she begged. “You can come back and talk to
me at any time. I am not in the least hungry
yet.”
“ Very well,” he agreed. “Good luck to you!”
They played at opposite sides of the table. For
an hour she won and he lost. Once she called him
over to her side.
“I scarcely dare to tell you,” she whispered, her
eyes gleaming, “ but I have won back the first thou-
sand pounds. I shall give it to you to-night. Here,
take it now.”
He shook his head and waved it away.
“I haven't the cheques with me," he protested.
“ Besides, it is bad luck to part with any of your
winnings while you are still playing.”
He watched her for a minute or two. She still
won.
“ Take my advice," he said earnestly. “ Play
higher. You have had a most unusual run of bad
luck. The tide has turned. Make the most of it.
I have lost ten mille. I am going to have a try your
side of the table.”
He found a vacant chair a few places lower down,
and commenced playing in maximums. From the
moment of his arrival he began to win, and simultane-
ously Violet began to lose. Her good-fortune de-
serted her absolutely, and for the first time she
showed signs of losing her self-control. She gave
vent to little exclamations of disgust as stake after


PLAYING FOR HIGH STAKES 275
need to win once in a dozen times and you do well.
Don't be in such a hurry.”
“Of course," she murmured. “Of course! One
forgets that. It is all a matter of capital.”
He strolled away to another table. When he
came back, she was sitting idle in her place, restless
and excited, but still full of confidence.
“I am a little to the good,” she told him, “ but I
have left off for a few minutes. The very low num-
bers are turning up and they are no use to me."
“ Come and have that sandwich,” he begged.
“ You really ought to take something."
“ The place shall be kept for madame," the crou-
pier whispered. “I shall be here for another two
hours.”
She nodded and rose. They made their way out
of the Rooms and down into the restaurant on the
ground-floor. They found a little table near the
wall and he ordered some pâté sandwiches and cham-
pagne. Whilst they waited she counted up her
money, making calculations on a slip of paper. Dra-
conmeyer leaned back in his chair, watching her.
His back was towards the door and they were at
the end table. He permitted himself the luxury of
looking at her almost greedily; of dropping, for a
few moments, the mask which he placed always upon
his features in her presence. In his way the man
was an artist, a great collector of pictures and
bronzes, a real lover and seeker after perfection.
Often he found himself wandering towards his little
gallery, content to stand about and gloat over some
of his most treasured possessions. Yet the man's
personality clashed often with his artistic preten-


PLAYING FOR HIGH STAKES 277
strolling around with David Briston. We are at
the Opera.”
“ At the Opera,” she repeated.
“My little protégée, Felicia Roche, is singing," he
went on,“ in Aïda. If she does as well in the next act
as she has done in this, her future is made.”
He was on the point of adding the news of Felicia's
engagement to the young man who had momentarily
deserted him. Some evil chance changed his inten-
tion.
“Why do you call her your little protégée? ” she
demanded.
“ It isn't quite correct, is it?” he answered, a lit-
tle absently. “ There are three or four of us who
are doing what we can to look after her. Her fa-
ther was a prominent member of the Wigwam Club.
The girl won the musical scholarship we have there.
She has more than repaid us for our trouble, I am
glad to say.”
“I have no doubt that she has," Violet replied,
lifting her eyes.
There was a moment's silence. The signifi-
cance of her words was entirely lost upon Hunter-
leys.
“ Isn't this rather a new departure of yours? ”
he asked, glancing disdainfully towards Draconmeyer.
“I thought that you so much preferred to play at
the Club.”
“So I do,” she assented, “ but I was just begin-
ning to win when the Club closed at eight o'clock,
and so we came on here.”
“ Your good fortune continues, I hope?”
“ It varies,” she answered hurriedly, “ but it will


278 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
come, I am sure. I have been very near a big win
more than once.”
He seemed on the point of departure. She leaned
a little forward.
“ You had my note, Henry?”
Her tone was almost beseeching. Draconmeyer,
who was listening with stony face, shivered imper-
ceptibly.
“ Thank you, yes,” Hunterleys replied, frowning
slightly. “I am sorry, but I am not at liberty to
do what you suggest just at present. I wish you
good fortune."
He turned around and walked back to the other
end of the room, where Briston was standing at the
bar. She looked after him for a moment as though
she failed to understand his words. Then her face
hardened. Draconmeyer leaned towards her.
“ Shall we go?” he suggested.
She rose with alacrity. Side by side they strolled
through the rooms towards the Cercle Privé.
“I am sorry," Draconmeyer said regretfully, “ but
I am forced to leave you now. I will take you back
to your place and after that I must go to the hotel
and change. I have a reception to attend. I wish
you would take the rest of my winnings and see what
you can do with them.”
She shook her head vigorously.
“No, thank you,” she declared. “I have
enough.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“I have twenty-five mille here in my pocket,” he
continued, “ besides some smaller change. I don't
think it is quite fair to leave so much money about


CHAPTER XXVIII
TO THE VILLA MIMOSA
With feet that seemed to touch nothing more sube
stantial than air, her eyes brilliant, a wonderful col-
our in her cheeks, Violet passed through the heavy,
dingy rooms and out through the motley crowd into
the portico of the Casino. She was right! She
knew that she had been right! How wise she had
been to borrow that money from Mr. Draconmeyer
instead of sitting down and confessing herself van-
quished! The last few hours had been hours of ec-
static happiness. With calm confidence she had sat
in her place and watched her numbers coming up
with marvellous persistence. It was the most won-
derful thing in the world, this. She had had no time
to count her winnings, but at least she knew that she
could pay back every penny she owed. Her little
gold satchel was stuffed with notes and plaques.
She felt suddenly younger, curiously lighthearted;
hungry, too, and thirsty. She was, in short, experi-
encing almost a delirium of pleasure. And just then,
on the steps of the Casino, she came face to face
with her husband.
“ Henry!” she called out. “ Henry!”
He turned abruptly around. He was looking
troubled, and in his hand were the fragments of a
crushed up note.


286 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Hunterleys leaned towards him.
“ Lane,” he said, “ don't forget that I warned you
there might be a little trouble about to-night. If
you feel the slightest hesitation about involving your-
self -"
“ Shut up!” Richard interrupted. “Whatever
trouble you're ready to face, I'm all for it, too.
Darned queer thing that we should be going to the
Villa Mimosa, though! I am not exactly a popular
person with Mr. Grex, I think.”
Hunterleys smiled.
“I saw your sister this afternoon,” he remarked.
“ You are rather a wonderful young man.”
“I knew it was all up with me,” Richard replied
simply, “ when I first saw that girl. Now look here,
Hunterleys, we are almost there. Tell me exactly
what it is you want me to do?”
“I want you,” Hunterleys explained, “ to risk a
smash, if you don't mind. I want you to run up to
the boundaries of the villa gardens, head your car
back for Monte Carlo, and while you are waiting there
turn out all your lights."
“ That's easy enough,” Richard assented. “ I'll
turn out the search-light altogether, and my others
are electric, worked by a button. Is this an elope-
ment act or what?”
“ There's a meeting going on in that villa,” Hun-
terleys told him, “ between prominent politicians of
three countries. You don't have to bother much
about Secret Service over in the States, although
there's more goes on than you know of in that direc-
tion. But over here we have to make regular use
of Secret Service men — spies, if you like to call


TO THE VILLA MIMOSA 287
them so. The meeting to-night is inimical to Eng-
land. It is part of a conspiracy against which I
am working. Sidney Roche — Felicia Roche's
brother — who lives here as a newspaper correspon-
dent, is in reality one of our best Secret Service men.
He is taking terrible chances to-night to learn a little
more about the plans which these fellows are dis-
cussing. We are here in case he needs our help to get
away. We've cleared the shrubs away, close to the
spot at which I am going to ask you to wait, and
taken the spikes off the fence. It's just a thousand
to one chance that if he's hard pressed for it and
heads this way, they may think that they have him
in a trap and take it quietly. That is to say, they'll
wait to capture him instead of shooting.”
“ Say, you don't mean this seriously? ” Richard
exclaimed. “They can't do more than arrest him
as a trespasser, or something of that sort, surely? ”
Hunterleys laughed grimly.
“ These men wouldn't stick at much,” he told his
companion. “They're hand in glove with the au-
thorities here. Anything they did would be hushed
up in the name of the law. These things are never
allowed to come out. It doesn't do any one any good
to have them gossiped about. If they caught Sidney
and shot him, we should never make a protest. It's
all part of the game, you know. Now that is the
spot I want you to stop at, exactly where the mimosa
tree leans over the path. But first of all, I'd turn
out your head-light.”
They slowed down and stopped. Richard extin-
guished the acetylene gas-lamp and mounted again
to his place. Then he swung the car round and


288 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
crawled back upon the reverse until he reached the
spot to which Hunterleys had pointed.
“ You're a good fellow, Richard,” Hunterleys said
softly. “We may have to wait an hour or two, and
it may be that nothing will happen, but it's giving
the fellow a chance, and it gives him confidence, too,
to know that friends are at hand.”
“ I'm in the game for all it's worth, anyway,” Lane
declared heartily.
He touched a button and the lights faded away.
The two men sat in silence, both turned a little in
their seats towards the villa.


CHAPTER XXIX
FOR HIS COUNTRY
The minutes glided by as the two men sat together
in the perfumed, shadowy darkness. From their
feet the glittering canopy of lights swept upwards
to the mountain-sides, even to the stars, but a chain
of slowly drifting black clouds hung down in front
of the moon, and until their eyes became accustomed
to their surroundings it seemed to both of them as
though they were sitting in a very pit of darkness.
“ It is possible,” Hunterleys whispered, after some
time, “ that we may have to wait for another hour
yet.”
Richard was suddenly tense. He sat up, and his
foot reached for the self-starter.
“I don't think you will,” he muttered. “Lis-
ten!”
Almost immediately they were conscious of some
commotion in the direction of the villa, followed by a
shot and then a cry.
“ Start the engine,” Hunterleys directed hoarsely,
standing up in his place. “I'm afraid they've got
him.”
There were two more shots but no further cry.
Then they heard the sound of excited voices and
immediately afterwards rapidly approaching foot-
steps. A man came crashing through the shrub-


290 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
bery, but when he reached the fence over which, for
a moment, his white face gleamed, he sank down as
though powerless to climb. Hunterleys leapt to the
ground and rushed to the fence.
“Hold up, Sidney, old fellow," he called softly.
“We're here all right. Hold up for a moment and
let me lift you."
Roche struggled to his feet. His face was ghastly
white, the sweat stood out upon his forehead, his
lips moved but no words came. Hunterleys got him
by the arms, set his teeth and lifted. The task would
have been too much for him, but Richard, springing
from the car, came to his help. With an effort they
hoisted him over the fence. Almost as they did so
there was the sound of footsteps dashing through
the shrubs, and a shot, the bullet of which tore the
bark from the trunk of a tree close at hand. The
car leapt off in fourth speed, Sidney supported in
Hunterleys' arms. A loud shout from behind only
brought Richard's foot down upon the accelerator.
“ Stoop low!” he cried to Hunterleys. “Get
your legs in, if you can.”
A bullet struck the back of the car and another
whistled over their heads. Then they dashed around
the corner, and Richard, turning on the lights,
jammed down his accelerator.
“ Gee whiz! that's a bloodthirsty crew! ” the
young man exclaimed, his eyes fixed upon the road.
“ Is he hurt? "
Roche was lying back on the seat. Hunterleys
was on his knees, holding on to the framework of the
car.
“ They've got me all right, Hunterleys,” Roche


FOR HIS COUNTRY
291
faltered. “ Listen. Everything went well with me
at first. I could hear — nearly everything. The
Frenchman kept his mouth shut — tight as wax.
Grex did most of the talking. Russia sees nothing
in the entente — England has nothing to offer her.
She'd rather keep friends with Germany. Russia
wants to move eastward — all Persia — India. She's
only lukewarm, any way, about the French alliance
as things stand at present, and dead off any truck
with England. There's talk of Constantinople, and
Germany to march three army corps through a weak
French resistance to Calais. They talked of France
acting to her pledges, putting her recruits in the
front, taking a slight defeat, making a peace on her
own account, with Alsace and Lorraine restored.
She can pay. Germany wants the money. Germany
- Germany -"
The words died away in a little groan. The
wounded man's head fell back. Hunterleys passed
his arm around the limp figure.
“ Take the first turn to the right and second to
the left, Richard,” he directed. “We'll drive
straight to the hospital. I made friends with the
English doctor last night. He promised to be there
till three. I paid him a fee on purpose.”
“ First to the right,” Richard muttered, swinging
around. “ Second to the left, eh?”
Hunterleys was holding his brandy flask to Roche's
lips as they swung through the white gates and pulled
up outside the hospital. The doctor was faithful to
his promise, and Roche, who was now unconscious,
was carried in. In the hall he was laid upon an am-
bulance and borne off by two attendants. Hunter-


292 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
leys and Lane sat down to wait in the hall. After
what seemed to them an interminable half-hour,
the doctor reappeared. He came over to them at
once.
“ Your friend may live,” he announced, “but in
any case he will be unconscious for the next twenty-
four hours. There is no need for you to stay, or
for you to fetch the young lady you spoke of, at
present. If he dies, he will die unconscious. I can
tell you nothing more until the afternoon.”
Hunterleys rose slowly to his feet.
“ You'll do everything you can, doctor?” he
begged. “Money doesn't count.”
“Money never counts here,” the doctor replied
gravely. “We shall save him if it is possible.
You've nothing to tell me, I suppose, as to how he
met with his wound?”
“ Nothing.”
They walked out together into the night. The
bank of clouds had drifted away now and the moon
was shining. Below them, barely a quarter of a mile
away, they could see the flare of lights from the
Casino. A woman was laughing hysterically through
the open windows of a house on the other side of the
way. Some one was playing a violin in a café at the
corner of the street.
“ Richard,” Hunterleys said, “ will you see me
through? I have to get to Cannes as fast as I can
to send a cable. I daren't send it from here, even in
code.”
“I'll drive you to Cannes like a shot,” Richard
assented heartily. “ Just a brandy and soda on our
way out, and I'll show you some pretty driving."


FOR HIS COUNTRY
293
They stopped at the Café de Paris and left the
car under the trees. Both men took a long drink
and Richard filled his pocket with cigarettes. Then
they re-entered the car, lit up, and glided off on the
road for Cannes. Richard had become more serious.
His boyish manner and appearance had temporarily
gone. He drove, even, with less than his usual reck-
lessness.
“ That was a fine fellow," he remarked enthusias-
tically, after a long pause, “ that fellow Roche!”
“And we've many more like him,” Hunterleys de-
clared. “We've men in every part of the world
doing what seems like dirty work, ill-paid work, too,
doing it partly, perhaps, because the excitement
grows on them and they love it, but always they have
to start in cold blood. The papers don't always tell
the truth, you know. There's many a death in
foreign cities you read of as a suicide, or the re-
sult of an accident, when it's really the sacrifice
of a hero for his country. It's great work, Rich-
ard.”
“Makes me feel kind of ashamed,” Richard mut-
tered. “I've never done anything but play around
all my life. Anyway, those sort of things don't come
to us in our country. America's too powerful and
too isolated to need help of that description. We
shouldn't have any use for politicians of your class,
or for Secret Service men.”
“If you're in earnest,” Hunterleys advised, “ you
go to Washington and ask them about it some day.
The time's coming, if it hasn't already arrived, when
your country will have to develop a different class
of politicians. You see, whether she wants it or not,


CHAPTER XXX
“ SUPPOSING I TAKE THIS MONEY "
There was a momentary commotion in the Club.
A woman had fainted at one of the roulette tables.
Her chair was quickly drawn back. She was helped
out to the open space at the top of the stairs and
placed in an easy-chair there. Lady Weyborne, who
was on the point of leaving with her husband, has-
tened back. She stood there while the usual restora-
tives were being administered, fanning the uncon-
scious woman with a white ostrich fan which hung
from her waist. Presently Violet opened her eyes.
She recognised Lady Weybourne and smiled weakly.
“I am so sorry," she murmured. “It was silly
of me to stay in here so long. I went without my
dinner, too, which was rather idiotic.”
A man who had announced himself a doctor, bent
over her pulse and turned away.
“The lady will be quite all right now," he said.
“You can give her brandy and soda if she feels like
it. Pardon!”
He hastened back to his place at the baccarat
table. Lady Hunterleys sat up.
“ It was quite absurd of me,” she declared. “I
don't know what "
She stopped suddenly. The weight was once more


“SUPPOSING I TAKE THIS MONEY” 297
upon her heart, the blankness before her eyes. She
remembered!
“I am quite able to go home now,” she added.
Her gold bag lay upon her lap. It was almost
empty. She looked at it vacantly and then closed
the snap.
“We'll see you back to the hotel,” Lady Wey-
bourne said soothingly. “Here comes Harry with
the brandy and soda.”
Lord Weybourne came hurrying from the bar, a
tumbler in his hand.
“How nice of you!” Violet exclaimed gratefully.
“ Really, I feel that this is just what I need. I won-
der what time it is?”
“Half past four,” Lord Weybourne announced,
glancing at his watch.
She laughed weakly.
“ How stupid of me! I have been between here
and the Casino for nearly twelve hours, and had
nothing to eat. No, I won't have anything here,
thanks,” she added, as Lord Weybourne started back
again for the bar, muttering something about a sand-
wich. “I'll have something in my room. If you
are going back to the hotel, perhaps I could come
with you.”
They all three left the place together, passing
along the private way.
“I haven't seen your brother all day,” Violet re-
marked to Lady Weybourne.
“ Richard's gone off somewhere in the car to-night,
a most mysterious expedition,” his sister declared.
“I began to think that it must be an elopement, but
I see the yacht's there still, and he would surely


298 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
choose the yacht in preference to a motor-car, if he
were running off with anybody! Your husband
doesn't come into the rooms much?”
Violet shook her head.
“ He hasn't the gambling instinct,” she said
quietly. “ Perhaps he is just as well without it.
One gets a lot of amusement out of this playing for
small stakes, but it is irritating to lose. Thank
you so much for looking after me," she added, as
they reached the hall of the hotel. “I am quite
all right now and my woman will be sitting up for
me."
She passed into the lift. Lady Weybourne looked
after her admiringly.
“Say, she's got some pluck, Harry!” she mur-
mured. “They say she lost nearly a hundred mille
to-night and she never even mentioned her losings.
Irritating, indeed! I wonder what Sir Henry thinks
of it. They are only moderately well off.”
Her husband shrugged his shoulders, after the
fashion of his sex.
“Let us hope,” he said, “ that it is Sir Henry who
suffers.”
Violet slipped out of her gown and dismissed her
maid. In her dressing-gown she sat before the open
window. Everywhere the place seemed steeped in
the faint violet and purple light preceding the dawn.
Away eastwards she could catch a glimpse of the
mountains, their peaks cut sharply against the soft,
deep sky; a crystalline glow, the first herald of the
hidden sunrise, hanging about their summits. The
gentle breeze from the Mediterranean was cool and


300 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
come to her dimly from the first, but which she had
pushed away simply because she had felt sure of
winning. Now there was the price to be paid! She
leaned further out of the window. Away to her left
the glow over the mountains was becoming stained
with the faintest of pinks. She looked at it long,
with mute and critical appreciation. She swept with
her eyes the line of violet shadows from the moun-
tain-tops to the sea-board, where the pale lights
of Bordighera still flickered. She looked up again
from the dark blue sea to the paling stars. It was
all wonderful — theatrical, perhaps, but wonderful
— and how she hated it! She stood up before the
window and with her clenched fists she beat against
the sills. Those long days and feverish nights
through which she had passed slowly unfolded them-
selves. In those few moments she seemed to taste
again the dull pain of constant disappointment, the
hectic thrills of occasional winnings, the strange, dull
inertia which had taken the place of resignation.
She looked into the street below. How long would
she live afterwards, she wondered, if she threw her-
self down! She began even to realise the state of
mind which breeds suicides, the brooding over a mor-
row too hateful to be faced.
As she still stood there, the silence of the street
below was broken. A motor-car swung round the
corner and swept past the side of the hotel. She
caught at the curtain as she recognised its occu-
pants. Richard Lane was driving, and by his side
sat her husband. The car was covered with dust,
both men seemed weary as though they had been
out all night. She gazed after them with fast-beat-


“SUPPOSING I TAKE THIS MONEY” 301
the garage, tood there silente corridor if
ing heart. She had pictured her husband at the
villa on the hill! Where had he been with Richard
Lane? Perhaps, after all, the things which she had
imagined were not true. The car had stopped now
at the front door. It returned a moment later on
its way to the garage, with only Lane driving. She
opened her door and stood there silently. Hunter-
leys would have to pass the end of the corridor if
he came up by the main lift. She waited with fast
beating heart. The seconds passed. Then she
heard the rattle of the lift ascending, its click as it
stopped, and soon afterwards the footsteps of a man.
He was coming — coming past the corner! At that
moment she felt that the sound of his footsteps was
like the beating of fate. They came nearer and she
shrank a little back. There was something unfamil-
iar about them. Whoever it might be, it was not
Henry! And then suddenly Draconmeyer came into
sight. He saw her standing there and stopped short.
Then he came rapidly near.
“ Lady Hunterleys!” he exclaimed softly. “You
still up?"
She hesitated. Then she stood on one side, still
grasping the handle of the door.
“Do you want to come in? ” she asked. “You
may. I have something to say to you. Perhaps I
shall sleep better if I say it now.”
He stepped quickly past her.
“ Close the door,” he whispered cautiously.
She obeyed him deliberately.
66 There is no hurry,” she said. “ This is my sit-
ting-room. I receive whom I choose here."
“ But it is nearly six o'clock !” he exclaimed.


"SUPPOSING I TAKE THIS MONEY” 303
first impulse, the affair would have been finished.
He realised it as he watched her face, and he shud-
dered at the thought of his escape. His words ob-
viously disturbed her.
“ It is not possible for me," she protested, “ to
accept money from you."
“ Not from Linda's husband?”
She threw her cigarette into the grate and stood
looking at him.
“Do you offer it to me as Linda's husband? " she
demanded.
It was a crisis for which Draconmeyer was scarcely
prepared. He was driven out of his pusillanimous
compromise. She was pressing him hard for the
truth. Again the fear of losing her altogether terri-
fied him.
“If I have other feelings of which I have not
spoken," he said quietly, “have I not kept them to
myself? Do I obtrude them upon you even now?
I am content to wait.”
“ To wait for what? ” she insisted.
All that had been in his mind seemed suddenly
miraged before him — the removal of Hunterleys, his
own wife's failing health. The way had seemed so
clear only a little time ago, and now the clouds were
back again.
“ Until you appreciate the fact,” he told her,
“ that you have no more sincere friend, that there is
no one who values your happiness more than I do.”
“ Supposing I take this money from you," she
asked, after a moment's pause. “ Are there any con-
ditions ? "
“None whatever," he answered.


304 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
She turned away with a little sigh. The tragedy
which a few minutes ago she had seen looming up,
eluded her. She had courted a dénouement in vain.
He was too clever.
“You are very generous,” she said. “We will
speak of this to-morrow. I called you in because
I could not bear the uncertainty of it all. Please go
now.”
He rose slowly to his feet. She gave him her
hand lifelessly. He kept it for a moment. She
drew it away and looked at the place where his lips
had touched it, wonderingly. It was as though her
fingers had been scorched with fire.
“ It shall be to-morrow,” he whispered, as he
passed out.


CHAPTER XXXI
NEARING A CRISIS
From the wilds of Scotland to Monte Carlo, as
fast as motor-cars and train de luxe could bring
him, came the right Honourable Meredith Simpson,
a very distinguished member of His Majesty's Gov-
ernment. Hunterleys, advised of his coming by tele-
gram from Marseilles, met him at the station, and
together the two men made their way at once to
Hunterleys' room across at the Hotel de Paris.
Behind locked doors they spoke for the first time of
important matters.
“It's a great find, this of yours, Hunterleys,” the
Minister acknowledged, “ and it is corroborated, too,
by what we know is happening around us. We have
had all the warning in the world just lately. The
Russian Ambassador is in St. Petersburg on leave of
absence — in fact for the last six months he has been
taking his duties remarkably lightly. Tell me how
you first heard of the affair?”
“I got wind of it in Sofia,” Hunterleys explained.
“I travelled from there quite quietly, loitered about
the Italian Riviera, and came on here as a tourist.
The only help I could get hold of here was from
Sidney Roche, who, as you know, is one of our Se-
cret Service men. Roche, I am sorry to say, was


NEARING A CRISIS
307
Russia has a conscience, even though it be a diplo-
matic conscience. Hence this conference. She
doesn't want France crushed. Germany has a
proposition. It has been enunciated up to a cer-
tain point. She confers Alsace and Lorraine and
possibly Egypt upon France, for her neutrality
whilst she destroys the British Fleet. Or failing her
neutrality, she wants her to place a weak army on the
frontier, which can fall back without much loss before
a German advance. Germany's objective then will
be Calais and not Paris, and from there she will com-
mand the Straits and deal with the British Fleet at
her leisure. Meanwhile, she will conclude peace with
France on highly advantageous terms. Don't you
see what it means, Simpson? The elementary part
of the thing is as simple as A B C. Germany has
nothing to gain from Russia, she has nothing to gain
from France. England is the only country who can
give her what she wants. That is about as far as
they have got, up to now, but there is something fur-
ther behind it all. That, Selingman is to tell them
to-night.”
“ The most important point about the whole mat-
ter, so far as we are concerned,” Mr. Simpson de-
clared, “is Douaille's attitude. You have received
no indication of that, I suppose?”
“ None whatever,” Hunterleys answered. “I
thought of paying my respects, but after all, you
know, I have no official standing, and personally we
are almost strangers."
The Minister nodded.
“It's a difficult position,” he confessed. “Have
you copies of your reports to London?"


308 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“I have copies of them, and full notes of every-
thing that has transpired so far, in a strong box up
at the bank,” Hunterleys assented. “We can stroll
up there after lunch and I will place all the docu-
ments in your hands. You can look them through
then and decide what is best to be done.”
The Minister rose to his feet.
“I shall go round to my rooms, change my
clothes,” he announced, “and meet you presently.
We'll lunch across at Ciro's, eh? I didn't mean to
come to Monte Carlo this year, but so long as I am
here, I may as well make the best of it. You are not
looking as though the change had done you much
good, Hunterleys.”
“ The last few days,” Hunterleys remarked, a
little drily, “ have not been exactly in the nature of
a holiday.”
“ Are you here alone? ”
“I came alone. I found my wife here by accident.
She came through with the Draconmeyers. They
were supposed to stay at Cannes, but altered their
plans. Of course, Draconmeyer meant to come here
all the time.”
The Minister frowned.
“ Draconmeyer's one man I should be glad to see
out of London,” he declared. “ Under the pretext
of fostering good-will, and that sort of thing, between
the mercantile classes of our two countries, I think
that that fellow has done about as much mischief as
it is possible for any single man to have accomplished.
We'll meet in an hour, Hunterleys. My man is
putting out some things for me and I must have a
bath.”


310 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Selingman withdrew his cigar from his mouth and
laid his hand upon the other's shoulder.
“My dear friend,” he said earnestly, “ your safe
conduct, if ever I signed it, would be to the other
world. Frankly, we find you rather a nuisance. We
would be better pleased if your Party were in office,
and you with your knees tucked under a desk at
Downing Street, attending to your official business
in your official place. Who gave you this roving
commission, eh? Who sent you to talk common
sense to the Balkan States, and how the mischief did
you get wind of our little meeting here?”
“Ah!” Hunterleys replied, “ I expect you really
know all these things.”
Selingman, with his feet planted firmly upon the
pavement, took a fresh cigar from his waistcoat
pocket, bit off the end and lit it.
“My friend Hunterleys,” he continued, “I am
enjoying this brief interchange of confidences. Cir-
cumstances have made me, as you see, a politician, a
schemer if you like. Nature meant me to be one of
the frankest, the most truthful, the best-hearted of
men. I detest the tortuous ways of the old diplo-
macy. The spoken word pleases me best. That is
why I like a few minutes' conversation with the en-
emy, why I love to stand here and talk to you with
the buttons off our foils. We are scheming against
you and your country, and you know it, and we shall
win. We can't help but win — if not to-day, to-.
morrow. Your country has had a marvellously long
run of good luck, but it can't last for ever.”
Hunterleys smiled.
“Well,” he observed, “ there's nothing like confi-


NEARING A CRISIS
311
dence. If you are so sure of success, why couldn't
you choose a cleaner way to it than by tampering
with our ally?”
Selingman patted his companion on the shoulder.
“ Listen, my friend,” he said, “ there are no such
things as allies. An alliance between two countries
is a dead letter so soon as their interests cease to be
identical. Now Austria is our ally because she is
practically Germany. We are both mid-Continental
Powers. We both need the same protection. But
England and France! Go back only fifty years, my
dear Hunterleys, and ask yourself — would any liv-
ing person, living now and alive then, believe in the
lasting nature of such an unnatural alliance? Wher-
ever you look, in every quarter of the globe, your in-
terests are opposed. You robbed France of Egypt.
She can't have wholly forgotten. You dominate
the Mediterranean through Gibraltar, Malta, and
Cyprus. What does she think of that, I wonder?
Isn't a humiliation for her when she does stop to
think of it? You've a thousand years of quarrels,
of fighting and rapine behind you. You can't call
yourselves allies because the thing isn't natural. It
never could be. It was only your mutual, hysterical
fear of Germany which drove you into one another's
arms. We fought France once to prove ourselves,
and for money. Just now we don't want either
money or territory from France. Perhaps we don't
even want, my dear Englishman, what you think we
want, but all the same, don't blame us for trying to
dissolve an unnatural alliance. Was that Simpson
who came by the Luxe this morning?"
“It was,” Hunterleys admitted.


NEARING A CRISIS
313
well that Sidney was willing to take his risks. He
went into this thing, knowing it was dangerous. I
want to be brave. What happens must be. But
listen. You won't — you won't rob me of everything
in life, will you? You won't send David after him?"
Hunterleys smiled reassuringly.
“I can promise you that,” he told her. “ This
· isn't David's job at all. He has to stick to his post
and help out the bluff as a press correspondent.
Don't be afraid, Felicia. You shall have your
to stick to 2. This
David » e afraid. Pul as a
She seized his hand and kissed it.
“ You have been so kind to me always, Sir Henry,"
she sighed. “I can't tell you how thankful I am to
think that you don't want David to go and run
these horrible risks.”
“No fear of that, I promise you," he assured her
once more. “ David will be busy enough pulling the
strings another way.”
The doctor entered the room and shook hands with
Hunterleys. There was no news, he declared, noth-
ing to be done. The patient must continue in his
present condition for several more hours at least.
The symptoms were, in their way, favourable. Be-
yond that, nothing could be said. Felicia and
Hunterleys left the hospital together.
“I wonder,” she began, as they turned out of the
white gates, “ whether you would mind very much if
I told you something?”
“Of course not!"
“ Yesterday," she continued slowly, “I met Lady
Hunterleys. You know, I have seen her twice when
I have been to your house to sing for your guests.


314 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
She recognised me, I feel sure, but she didn't seem to
want to see me. She looked surprised when I bowed.
I worried about it at first and then I wondered. You
are so very, very secretive just now. Whatever this
affair may be in which you three are all concerned,
you never open your lips about it. Lady Hunter-
leys probably doesn't know that you have had to
come up to the villa at all hours of the night just to
see Sidney. You don't suppose that by any chance
she imagined — that you came to see me?”
Hunterleys was struck by the thought. He re-
membered several chance remarks of his wife. He
remembered, too, the coincidence of his recent visits
to the villa having prevented him in each case from
acceding to some request of Violet's.
“I am glad you've mentioned this, child,” he said
frankly. “ Now I come to think of it, my wife cer-
tainly did know that I came up to the villa very late
one night, and she seemed upset about it. Of course,
she hasn't the faintest idea about your brother."
“Well,” Felicia declared, with a sigh of relief, “ I
felt that I had to tell you. It sounded horribly con-
ceited, in a way, but then she wouldn't know that you
came to see Sidney, or that I was engaged to David.
Misunderstandings do come about so easily, you
know, sometimes.”
“ This one shall be put right, at any rate,” he
promised her. “Now, if you will take my advice,
you will go home and lie down until the evening.
You are going to sing again, aren't you?”
“ If there is no change,” she replied. “I know
that he would like me to. You haven't minded —
what I've said?"


Mr. Grex, with his daughter and Lady Hunterleys on one side and Monsieur
Douaille on the other, were in the van. Page 316.





318 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ Markets about the same, I suppose? ” Mr. Dra-
conmeyer asked.
“I am afraid,” Mr. Simpson confessed, “ that I
only study the city column from the point of view
of what Herr Selingman has just called the political
barometer. Things were a little unsteady when I
left. Consols fell several points yesterday."
Mr. Draconmeyer frowned.
“ It is incomprehensible,” he declared. “A few
months ago there was real danger, one is forced to
believe, of a European war. To-day the crisis is
passed, yet the money-markets which bore up so well
through the critical period seem now all the time on
the point of collapse. It is hard for a banker to
know how to operate these days. I wish you gen-
tlemen in Downing Street, Mr. Simpson, would make
it easier for us.”
Mr. Simpson shrugged his shoulders.
“ The real truth of the matter is,” he said, “ that
you allow your money-market to become too sensitive
an affair. A whisper will depress it. A threatening
word spoken in the Reichstag or in the House of Par-
liament, magnified a hundred-fold before it reaches
its destination, has sometimes a most unwarranted
effect upon markets. You mustn't blame us so
much, Mr. Draconmeyer. You jump at conclusions
too easily in the city.”
“ Sound common sense,” Mr. Draconmeyer agreed.
“ You are perfectly right when you say that we are
over-sensitive. The banker deplores it as much as
the politician. It's the money-kings, I suppose, who
find it profitable.”
They returned to their table a moment later. As


320 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
to do myself the honour of paying my respects to
you."
Monsieur Douaille was flattered.
“My stay here is short,” he regretted,“ but your
visit will be most acceptable. I am at the Riviera
Palace Hotel.”
“ It is one of my theories,” Mr. Simpson remarked,
" that politicians are at a serious disadvantage com-
pared with business men, inasmuch as, with important
affairs under their control, they have few opportuni-
ties of meeting those with whom they have dealings.
It would be a great pleasure to me to discuss one or
two matters with you."
Monsieur Douaille departed, with a few charming
words of assent. Simpson looked after him with
kindling eyes.
“ This," he murmured, leaning across the table,
“ is a most extraordinary meeting. There they sit,
those very men whom you suspect of this devilish
scheme, within a few feet of us! Positively thrill-
ing, Hunterleys!”
Hunterleys, too, seemed to feel the stimulating ef-
fect of a situation so dramatic. As the meal pro-
gressed, he drew his chair a little closer to the table
and leaned over towards his companion.
“I think,” he said, “ that we shall both of us re-
member the coincidence of this meeting as long as
we live. At that luncheon-table, within a few yards
of us, sits Russia, the new Russia, raising his head
after a thousand years' sleep, watching the times,
weighing them, realising his own immeasurable
strength, pointing his inevitable finger along the
road which the Russia of to-morrow must tread.


AN INTERESTING MEETING 321
There isn't a man in that great country so much to
be feared to-day, from our point of view, as the
Grand Duke Augustus. And look, too, at the same
table, within a few feet, Simpson, of you and of me
— Selingman, Selingman who represents the real
Germany; not the war party alone, intoxicated with
the clash of arms, filled with bombastic desires for
German triumphs on sea and land, ever ready to
spout in flowery and grandiloquent phrases the glory
of Germany and the Heaven-sent genius of her lead-
ers. I tell you, Simpson, Selingman is a more dan-
gerous man than that. He sits with folded arms, in
realms of thought above these people. He sits with
a map of the world before him, and he places his fin-
ger upon the inevitable spots which Germany must
possess to keep time with the march of the world,
to find new homes for her overflowing millions. He
has no military fervour, no tinselly patriotism. He
knows what Germany needs and he will carve her way
towards it. Look at him with his napkin tucked
under his chin, broad-visaged, podgy, a slave, you
might think, to the joys of the table and the grosser
things of life. You should see his eyes sometimes
when the right note is struck, watch his mouth when
he sits and thinks. He uses words for an ambush
and a barricade. He talks often like a gay fool, a
flood of empty verbiage streams from his lips, and
behind, all the time his brain works.”
“ You seem to have studied these people, Hunter-
leys,” Simpson remarked appreciatively.
Hunterleys smiled as he continued his luncheon.
“ Forgive me if I was a little prolix,” he said,
“but, after all, what would you have? I am out of


322 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
office but I remain a servant of my country. My
interest is just as keen as though I were in a respon-
sible position.”
“You are well out of it,” Simpson sighed. “If
half what you suspect is true, it's the worst fix we've
been in for some time.”
“I am afraid there isn't any doubt about it,” Hun-
terleys declared. “Of course, we've been at a fear-
ful disadvantage. Roche was the only man out here
upon whom I could rely. Now they've accounted for
him, we've scarcely a chance of getting at the truth.”
Mr. Simpson was gloomily silent for some mo-
ments. He was thinking of the time when he had
struck his pencil through a recent Secret Service
estimate.
“ Anyhow,” Hunterleys went on, “it will be all
over in twenty-four hours. Something will be de-
cided upon — what, I am afraid there is very little
chance of our getting to know. These men will sep-
arate — Grex to St. Petersburg, Selingman to Ber-
lin, Douaille to Paris. Then I think we shall begin
to hear the mutterings of the storm."
“I think,” Mr. Simpson intervened, his eyes fixed
upon an approaching figure, " that there is a young
lady talking to the maître d'hôtel, who is trying to
attract your attention.”
Hunterleys turned around in his chair. It was
Felicia who was making her way towards him. He
rose at once to his feet. There was a little murmur
of interest amongst the lunchers as she threaded her
way past the tables. It was not often that an Eng-
lish singer in opera had met with so great a success.
Lady Hunterleys, recognising her as she passed,


AN INTERESTING MEETING 323
paused in the middle of a sentence. Her face har-
dened. Hunterleys had risen from his place and was
watching Felicia's approach anxiously.
“Is there any news of Sidney?” he asked quickly,
as he took her hand.
“Nothing fresh,” she answered in a low voice.
“I have brought you a message — from some one
else.”
He held his chair for her but she shook her head.
“I mustn't stay,” she continued. “This is what
I wanted to tell you. As I was crossing the square
just now, I recognised the man Frenhofer, from the
Villa Mimosa. Directly he saw me he came across
the road. He was looking for one of us. He dared
not come to the villa, he declares, for fear of being
watched. He has something to tell you."
“ Where can I find him?” Hunterleys asked.
“ He has gone to a little bar in the Rue de Chaus-
sures, the Bar de Montmartre it is called. He is
waiting there for you now.”
“You must stay and have some lunch,” Hunter-
leys begged. “I will come back.”
She shook her head.
“I have just been across to the Opera House," she
explained, “ to enquire about some properties for
to-night. I have had all the lunch I want and I am
on my way to the hospital now again. I came here
on the chance of finding you. They told me at the
Hotel de Paris that you were lunching out.”
Hunterleys turned and whispered to Simpson.
“ This is very important,” he said. “It concerns
the affair in which we are interested. Linger over
your coffee and I will return.”


324 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Mr. Simpson nodded and Hunterleys left the res-
taurant with Felicia. His wife, at whom he glanced
for a moment, kept her head averted. She was
whispering in the ear of the gallant Monsieur Dou-
aille. Selingman, catching Draconmeyer's eye,
winked at him solemnly.
“ You have all the luck, my silent friend,” he
murmured.


CHAPTER XXXIII
THE FATES ARE KIND
The Bar de Montmartre was many steps under the
level of the street, dark, smelly, and dilapidated.
Its only occupants were a handful of drivers from
the carriage-stand opposite, who stared at Hunter-
leys in amazement as he entered, and then rushed for-
ward, almost in a body, to offer their services. The
man behind the bar, however, who had evidently been
forewarned, intervened with a few sharp words, and,
lifting the flap of the counter, ushered Hunterleys
into a little room beyond. Frenhofer was engaged
there in amiable badinage with a young lady who
promptly disappeared at Hunterleys' entrance.
Frenhofer bowed respectfully.
“I must apologise," he said, “ for bringing mon-
sieur to such a place. It is near the end now, and
with Monsieur Roche in the hospital I ventured to
address myself to monsieur direct. Here I have
the right to enter. I make my suit to the daughter
of the proprietor in order to have a safe rendezvous
when necessary. It is well that monsieur has come
quickly. I have tidings. I can disclose to mon-
sieur the meeting-place for to-night. If monsieur
has fortune and the wit to make use of it, the oppor-
tunity I shall give him is a great one. But pardon


THE FATES ARE KIND 327
glass vanished. He set it down with a little smack
of the lips. Once more he looked at the bottle.
Frenhofer filled up his glass, but motioned to the
door with his head.
“You will excuse us, dear friend,” he begged, lay-
ing his hand persuasively upon the other's shoulder.
“ Monsieur and I have little enough of time.”
The landlord withdrew. Frenhofer walked around
the little apartment. Their privacy was certainly
assured.
“Monsieur,” he announced, turning to Hunterleys,
“ there has been a great discussion as to the next
meeting-place between our friends — the next, which
will be also the last. They are safe enough in reality
at the villa, but Monsieur Douaille is nervous. The
affair of last night terrified him. The reason for
these things I, of course, know nothing of, but it
seems that Monsieur Douaille is very anxious indeed
to keep his association with my august master and
Herr Selingman as secret as possible. He has de-
clined most positively to set foot again within the
Villa Mimosa. Many plans have been suggested.
This is the one adopted. For some weeks a German
down in Monaco, a shipping agent, has had a yacht
in the harbour for hire. He has approached Mr.
Grex several times, not knowing his identity; ig-
norant, indeed, of the fact that the Grand Duke him-
self possesses one of the finest yachts afloat. How-
ever, that is nothing. Mr. Grex thought suddenly
of the yacht. He suggested it to the others. They
were enthusiastic. The yacht is to be hired for a
week, or longer if necessary, and used only to-night.
Behold the wonderful good-fortune of the affair!


THE FATES ARE KIND
331
Hunterleys walked through the streets back to
Ciro's Restaurant, filled with a new exhilaration.
His eyes were bright, his brain was working all the
time. The luncheon-party at the next table were
still in the midst of their meal. Mr. Simpson was
smoking a meditative cigarette with his coffee. Hun-
terleys resumed his place and ordered coffee for him-
self.
“I have been to see a poor friend who met with an
accident last night,” he announced, speaking as
clearly as possible. “I fear that he is very ill.
That was his sister who fetched me away.”
Mr. Simpson nodded sympathetically. Their con-
versation for a few minutes was desultory. Then
Hunterleys asked for the bill and rose.
“I will take you round to the Club and get your
carte," he suggested. “Afterwards, we can spend
the afternoon as you choose.”
The two men strolled out of the place. It was
not until after they had left the arcade and were
actually in the street, that Hunterleys gripped his
companion's arm.
“ Simpson,” he declared, “ the fates have been kind
to us. Douaille has a fit of the nerves. He will go
no more to the Villa Mimosa. Seeking about for
the safest meeting-place, Grex has given us a chance.
The only one of his servants who belongs to us is
commissioned to hire a yacht on which they meet to-
night.”
“A yacht,” Mr. Simpson replied, emptily.
“I have a friend,” Hunterleys continued, “an
American. I am convinced that he will lend me his
yacht, which is lying in the harbour here. We are


THE FATES ARE KIND
333
“If he is up playing golf at La Turbie,” Hunter-
leys muttered, “ we shall barely have time.”
A reception clerk tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned abruptly around.
“I have just made an enquiry of the floor waiter,”
the clerk announced. “He believes that Mr. Lane
is still in his room.”
Hunterleys thanked the man and hurried to the
lift. In a few moments he was knocking at the door
of Lane's rooms. His heart gave a great jump as a
familiar voice bade him enter. He stepped inside
and closed the door behind him. Richard, in light
blue pyjamas, sat up in bed and looked at his visitor
with a huge yawn.
“ Say, old chap, are you in a hurry or anything?"
he demanded.
“Do you know the time? ” Hunterleys asked.
“No idea,” the other replied. “ The valet called
me at eight. I told him I'd shoot him if he disturbed
me again.”
“It's nearly three o'clock ! ” Hunterleys declared
impressively.
“ Can't help it,” Richard yawned, throwing off the
bed-clothes and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I
am young and delicate and I need my rest. Seri-
ously, Hunterleys,” he added, “ you take a chap out
and make him drive you at sixty miles an hour
all through the night, you keep him at it till nearly
six in the morning, and you seem to think it a trag-
edy to find him in bed at three o'clock in the after-
noon. Hang it, I've only had eight hours' sleep!”
“I don't care how long you've had,” Hunterleys
rejoined. “I am only too thankful to find you.


334 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Now listen. Is your brain working? Can you talk
seriously?”
“I guess so.”
“ You remember our talk last night?”
“Every word of it.”
“ The time has come,” Hunterleys continued, -
“ your time, I mean. You said that if you could
take a hand, you'd do it. I am here to beg for your
help.”
“ You needn't waste your breath doing that,"
Richard answered firmly. “ I'm your man. Go
on.”
“Listen,” Hunterleys proceeded. “Is your yacht
in commission?”
“Ready to sail at ten minutes' notice," the young
man assured him emphatically, “victualled and
coaled to the eyelids. To tell you the truth, I have
some idea of abducting Fedora to-day or to-mor-
row.”
“ You'll have to postpone that,” Hunterleys told
him. “I want to borrow the yacht.”
“ She's yours," Richard assented promptly. “ I'll
give you a note to the captain.”
“ Look here, I want you to understand this
clearly,” Hunterleys went on. “If you lend me the
Minnehaha, well, you commit yourself a bit. You
see, it's like this. I've one man of my own in Grer's
household. He came to me this morning. Monsieur
Douaille objects to cross again the threshold of the
Villa Mimosa. He fears the English newspapers.
There has been a long discussion as to the next meet-
ing-place. Grex suggested a yacht. To that they
all agreed. There is a man named Schwann down in


THE FATES ARE KIND
335
Monaco has a yacht for hire. Mr. Grex knows about
it and he has sent the man I spoke of into Monaco
this afternoon to hire it. They are all going to em-
bark at ten o'clock to-night. They are going to
hold their meeting in the cabin."
Lane whistled softly. He was wide awake now.
“Go on," he murmured. “Go on. Say, this is
great!”
“I want,” Hunterleys explained, “ your yacht to
take the place of the other. I want it to be off the
Villa Mimosa at ten o'clock to-night, your pinnace
to be at the landing-stage of the villa to bring Mr.
Grex and his friends on board. I want you to haul
down your American flag, keep your American sailors
out of sight, cover up the Stars and Stripes in your
cabin, have only your foreign stewards on show.
Schwann's yacht is a costly one. No one will know
the difference. You must get up now and show me
over the boat. I have to scheme, somehow or other,
how we can hide ourselves on it so that I can over-
hear the end of this plot."
The face of Richard Lane was like the face of an
ingenuous boy who sees suddenly a Paradise of sport
stretched out before him. His mouth was open, his
eyes gleaming.
“Gee, but this is glorious !” he exclaimed. “I'm
with you all the way. Why, it's wonderful, man!
It's a chapter from the Arabian Nights over again!”
He leapt to his feet and rang the bell furiously.
Then he rushed to the telephone.
“ Blue serge clothes,” he ordered the valet. “Get
my bath ready."
“ Any breakfast, monsieur ? "


336 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“Oh, breakfast be hanged! No, wait a moment.
Get me some coffee and a roll. I'll take it while I
dress. Hurry up! ... Yes, is that the enquiry of-
fice? This is Mr. Lane. Send round to my chauf-
feur at the garage at once and tell him that I want
the car at the door in a quarter of an hour. Righto!
... Sit down, Hunterleys. Smoke or do whatever
you want to. We'll be off to the yacht in no time.”
Hunterleys clapped the young giant on the shoul-
ders as he rushed through to the bathroom.
“ You're a brick, Richard,” he declared. “I'll
wait for you down in the hall. I've a pal there.”
“ I'll be down in twenty minutes or earlier,” Lane
promised. “What a lark!”


COFFEE FOR ONE ONLY 339
worth while risking even Heaven in the future for the
joy of holding her for once in his arms. She had
never seemed to him so maddeningly beautiful as at
that moment. It was one of the hottest days of the
season and she was wearing a gown of white muslin,
curiously simple, enhancing, somehow or other, her
fascinating slimness, a slimness which had nothing to
do with angularity but possessed its own soft and
giaceful curves. Her eyes were bluer even than her
turquoise brooch or the gentians in her hat. And
while his heart was aching and throbbing with doubts
and hopes, she suddenly smiled at him.
“I am going to sit down,” she announced care-
lessly. “Please say to me just what is in your mind,
without reserve. It will be better.”
She threw herself into a low chair near the window.
Her hands were folded in her lap. Her eyes, for
some reason, were fixed upon her wedding ring. Swift
to notice even her slightest action, he frowned as he
discerned the direction of her gaze.
“ Violet,” he said, “ I think that you are right. I
think that the time has come when I must tell you
what is in my mind.”
She raised her eyebrows slightly at the sound of her
Christian name. He moved over and stood by her
chair.
“For a good many years,” he began slowly, “I
have been a man with a purpose. When it first came
into my mind — not willingly — its accomplishment
seemed utterly hopeless. Still, it was there. Strong
man though I am, I could not root it out. I waited.
There was nothing else to do but wait. From that
moment my life was divided. My whole-soul devo-


340 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
tion to worldly affairs was severed. I had one dream
that was more wonderful to me, even, than complete
success in the great undertaking which brought me
to London. That dream was connected with you,
Violet.”
She moved a little uneasily, as though the repeti-
tion of her Christian name grated. This time, how-
ever, he was rapt in his subject.
“I won't make excuses,” he went on. “ You know
what Linda is — what she has been for ten years. I
have tried to be kind to her. As to love, I never had
any. Ours was an alliance between two great mon-
ied families, arranged for us, acquiesced in by both of
us as a matter of course. It seemed to me in those
days the most natural and satisfactory form of mar-
riage. I looked upon myself as others have thought
me — a cold, bloodless man of figures and ambition.
It is you who have taught me that I have as much sen-
timent and more than other men, a heart and desires
which have made life sometimes hell and sometimes
paradise. For two years I have struggled. Life
with me has been a sort of passionate compromise.
For the joy of seeing you sometimes, of listening to
you and watching you, I have borne the agony of
having you leave me to take your place with another
man. You don't quite know what that meant, and I
am not going to tell you, but always I have hoped
and hoped.”
“ And now,” she said, looking at him, “ I owe you
four thousand pounds and you think, perhaps, that
your time has come to speak?”
He shivered as though she had struck him a blow.
“You think,” he exclaimed, “ that I am a man of


COFFEE FOR ONE ONLY 341
pounds, shillings, and pence! Is it my fault that
you owe me money?”
He snatched her cheques from his inner pocket and
ripped them in pieces, lit a match and watched them
while they smouldered away. She, too, watched with
emotionless face.
“Do you think that I want to buy you? ” he de-
manded. “ There! You are free from your money
claims. You can leave my room this moment, if you
will, and owe me nothing.”
She made no movement, yet he was vaguely dis-
turbed by a sense of having made but little progress,
a terrible sense of impending failure. His fingers
began to tremble, his face was the face of a man
stretched upon the rack.
"Perhaps those words of mine were false,” he went
on. “Perhaps, in a sense, I do want to buy you,
buy the little kindnesses that go with affection, buy
your kind words, the touch sometimes of your fin-
gers, the pleasant sense of companionship I feel
when I am with you. I know how proud you are.
I know how virtuous you are. I know that it's there
in your blood, the Puritan instinct, the craving for
the one man to whom you have given yourself, the
involuntary shrinking from the touch of any other.
Good women are like that — wives or mistresses.
Mind, in a sense it's narrow; in a sense it's splendid.
Listen to me. I don't want to declare war against
that instinct — yet. I can't. Perhaps, even now,
I have spoken too soon, craved too soon for the little
I do ask. Yet God knows I can keep the seal upon
my lips no longer! Don't let us misunderstand one
another for the sake of using plain words. I am not


342 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
asking you to be my mistress. I ask you, on my
knees, to take from me what makes life brighter for
you. I ask you for the other things only — for your
confidence, for your affection, your companionship.
I ask to see you every day that it is possible, to know
that you are wearing my gifts, surrounded by my
flowers, the rough places in your life made smooth by
my efforts. I am your suppliant, Violet. I ask
only for the crumbs that fall from your table, so
long as no other man sits by your side. Violet, can't
you give me as much as this?”
His hand, hot and trembling, sought hers, touched
and gripped it. She drew her fingers away. It was
curious how in those few moments she seemed to be
gifted with an immense clear-sightedness. She knew
very well that nothing about the man was honest save
the passion of which he did not speak. She rose
to her feet.
“Well,” she said, “ I have listened to you very pa-
tiently. If I owe you any excuse for having ap-
peared to encourage any one of those thoughts of
which you speak, here it is. I am like thousands of
other women. I absolutely don't know until the time
comes what sort of a creature I am, how I shall be
moved to act under certain circumstances. I tried
to think last night. I couldn't. I felt that I had
gone half-way. I had taken your money. I had
taken it, too, understanding what it means to be in
a man's debt. And still I waited. And now I know.
I won't even question your sincerity. I won't even
suggest that you would not be content with what you
ask for "
“ I have sworn it!” he interrupted hoarsely. “ To


344 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
asol and moved towards the door. The man stood
on one side with a bow.
“Here is the waiter you rang for, Mr. Dracon-
meyer,” she remarked, looking over his shoulder.
“Wasn't it coffee you wanted? Tell Linda I'll hope
to see her sometime this evening.”
She strolled away. The waiter remained patiently
upon the threshold.
“ Coffee for one or two, sir?” he enquired.
Mr. Draconmeyer struggled for a moment against
a torrent of words which scorched his lips. In the
end, however, he triumphed.
“For one, with cream,” he ordered.


CHAPTER XXXV
A NEW MAP OF THE EARTH
Selingman, who was leaning back in a leather-
padded chair and smoking a very excellent cigar,
looked around at his companions with a smile of
complete approval.
“Our host,” he declared, bowing to Mr. Grex,
“ has surpassed himself. For a hired yacht I have
seen nothing more magnificent. A Cabinet Moselle,
Flor de Cuba cigars, the best of company, and an
isolation beyond all question. What place could
suit us better? ”
There was a little murmur of assent. The four
men were seated together in the wonderfully deco-
rated saloon of what was, beyond doubt, a most lux-
urious yacht. Through the open porthole were vis-
ible, every few moments, as the yacht rose and sank
on the swell, the long line of lights which fringed the
shore between Monte Carlo and Mentone; the moun-
tains beyond, with tiny lights flickering like spangles
in a black mantle of darkness; and further round still,
the stream of light from the Casino, reflected far
and wide upon the black waters.
“None,” Mr. Grex asserted confidently. “We
are at least beyond reach of these bungling English
spies. There is no further fear of eavesdroppers.
We are entirely alone. Each may speak his own


346 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
mind. There is nothing to be feared in the way of
interruption. I trust, Monsieur Douaille, that you
appreciate the altered circumstances.”
Monsieur Douaille, who was looking very much
more at his ease, assented without hesitation.
“I must confess," he agreed, “ that the isolation
we now enjoy is, to a certain extent, reassuring.
Here we need no longer whisper. One may listen
carefully. One may weigh well what is said. Sooner
or later we must come to the crucial point. This,
if you like, is a game of make-believe. Then, in
make-believe, Germany has offered to restore Alsace
and Lorraine, has offered to hold all French territory
as sacred, provided France allows her to occupy
Calais for one year. What is your object, Herr Se-
lingman? Do you indeed wish to invade England?”
Selingman poured himself out a glass of wine from
the bottle which stood at his elbow.
“Good!” he said. “We have come to plain ques-
tions. I answer in plain speech. I will tell you now,
in a few words, all that remains to be told. Ger-
many has no desire to invade Great Britain. If one
may believe the newspapers, there is scarcely an Eng-
lishman alive who would credit this simple fact, but
it is nevertheless true. Commercially, England, and
a certain measure of English prosperity, are neces-
sary to Germany. Geographically, there are cer-
tain risks to be run in an invasion of that country,
which we do not consider worth while. Besides, an
invasion, even a successful one, would result in mak-
ing an everlasting and a bitter enemy of Great Brit-
ain. We learnt our lesson when we took territory
from France. We do not need to repeat it. Sev-


A NEW MAP OF THE EARTH 349
Douaille, as you value the prosperity and welfare
of your country, to weigh what I have said and what
our great Russian friend has said, word by word.
England has made no sacrifices for you. Why should
you sacrifice yourself for her?”
Monsieur Douaille stroked his little grey imperial.
“ That is well enough,” he muttered, “but with-
out the English Navy the balance of power upon the
Continent is entirely upset.”
“ The balance of power only according to the pres-
ent grouping of interests,” Mr. Grex pointed out.
“ Selingman has shown us how these must change.
Frankly, although no one can fail to realise the im-
mense importance of South America as a colonising
centre, it is my honest opinion that the nation who
scores most by my friend Selingman's plans, is not
Germany but France. Think what it means to her.
Instead of being a secondary Power, she will of her
own might absolutely control the Mediterranean.
Egypt, with its vast possibilities, its ever-elastic
boundary, falls to her hand. Malta and Cyprus fol-
low. It is a great price that Germany is prepared
to pay."
Monsieur Douaille was silent for several moments.
It was obvious that he was deeply impressed.
“ This is a matter,” he said, “ which must be con-
sidered from many points of view. Supposing
that France were willing to bury the hatchet with
Germany, to remain neutral or to place Calais at
Germany's disposal. Even then, do you suppose,
Herr Selingman, that it would be an easy matter to
destroy the British Navy?”.
“We have our plans,” Selingman declared sol-


A NEW MAP OF THE EARTH 351
Monsieur Douaille for the first time stretched out
his hand and drank some of the wine which stood by
his side. His cheeks were very pale. He had the
appearance of a man tortured by conflicting
thoughts.
“I should like to ask you, Selingman,” he said,
“ whether you have made any definite plans for your
conflict with the British Navy? I admit that the
days of England's unique greatness are over. She
may not be in a position to-day, as she has been in
former years, to fight the world. At the same time,
her one indomitable power is still, whatever people
may say or think, her navy. Only last month the
Cabinet of my country were considering reports from
their secret agents and placing them side by side
with known facts, as to the relative strength of your
navy and the navy of Great Britain. On paper it
would seem that a German success was impossible.”
Selingman smiled — the convincing smile of a man
who sees further than most men.
* “ Not under the terms I should propose to you,
Monsieur Douaille,” he declared. “Remember that
we should hold Calais, and we should be assured at
least of the amiable neutrality of your fleet. We
have spoken of matters so intimate that I do not
know whether in this absolute privacy I should not
be justified in going further and disclosing to you
our whole scheme for an attack upon the English
Navy. It would need only an expression of your
sympathy with those views which we have discussed,
to induce me to do so."
Monsieur Douaille hesitated for several moments
before he replied.


356 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
Selingman suddenly struck the table with his
clenched fist.
“You were not alone up in that gallery!”
“ Getting warm, aren't you?” Richard murmured.
Selingman turned to Grex.
“ This young man is Hunterleys' friend. They've
fixed this up between them. Listen!”
A door slammed above their heads. Some one had
left the music gallery.
“Hunterleys himself !” Selingman cried.
“ Sure!” Richard assented. “ Bright fellow, Se-
lingman,” he continued amiably. “I wouldn't try
that on, if I were you,” he added, turning to Mr.
Grex, whose hand was slowly stealing from the back
of his coat. “That sort of thing doesn't do, nowa-
days. Revolvers belong to the last decade of in-
trigue. You're a bit out of date with that little
weapon. Don't be foolish. I am not angry with
any of you. I am willing to take this little joke
pleasantly, but —”
He raised a whistle to his lips and blew it. The
door at the further end of the saloon was opened
as though by magic. A steward in the yacht's uni-
form appeared. From outside was visible a very
formidable line of sailors. Grex, with a swift ges-
ture, slipped something back into his pocket, some-
thing which glittered like silver.
“ Serve some champagne, Reynolds,” Richard or-
dered the steward who had come hurrying in, “and
bring some cigars.”
The man withdrew. Richard seated himself once
more upon the table, clasping one knee.
“ Look here,” he said, “ I'll be frank with you. I


CHECKMATE!
359
marked, meditatively. “I think I'd contribute a
good deal to the comfort and happiness of this gen-
eration if I took you all out to sea and dropped you
overboard, one by one."
“ As I presume you have no such intention,” Mr.
Grex persisted, “I repeat that we should be glad to
be allowed to land."
Richard abandoned his indolent posture and stood
facing them.
“ You came on board, gentlemen, without my invi-
tation,” he reminded them. “ You will leave my ship
when I choose — and that,” he added, “is not just
at present.”
“Do you mean that we are to consider ourselves
your prisoners ? ” Draconmeyer asked, with an acid
smile.
“ Certainly not — my guests,” Richard replied,
with a bow. “I can assure you that it will only be a
matter of a few hours.”
Monsieur Douaille hammered the table with his
fist.
“Young man,” he exclaimed, “ I leave with you!
I insist upon it that I am permitted to leave. I am
not a party to this conference. I am merely a guest,
a listener, here wholly in my private capacity. I
will not be associated with whatever political scan-
dal may arise from this affair. I demand permis-
sion to leave at once.”
“ Seems to me there's something in what you say,”
Richard admitted. “ Very well, you can come along.
I dare say Hunterleys will be glad to have a chat
with you. As for the rest of you,” he concluded, as
Monsieur Douaille rose promptly to his feet, “ I have


CHECKMATE!
361
The little pinnace shot out a stream of light across
the dark, placid sea. Douaille was talking earnestly
to Hunterleys.
“ Pleasantest few minutes I ever spent in my life,”
Richard murmured, as he took out his cigarette case.


AN AMAZING ELOPEMENT 363
“My father? ” she repeated. “ Please explain at
once what you mean. My father is on that yacht
and I cannot imagine why he does not return."
“I can tell you,” he answered, standing by her
side and looking out seawards. “ They are waiting
for my orders before they let him off.”
She turned her head and looked at him incredu-
lously.
“ Explain yourself, please,” she insisted.
“ With pleasure,” he assented. “You see, I just
had to make sure of being allowed to have a few min-
utes' conversation with you, free from any interrup-
tion. Somehow or other,” he added thoughtfully,
“I don't believe your father likes me.”
“I do not think,” she replied coldly, “ that my
father has any feelings about you at all, except that
he thinks you are abominably presumptuous."
“ Because I want to marry you?”
She stamped with her foot upon the ground.
“Please do not say such absurd things! Explain
to me at once what you mean by saying that my
father is being kept there by your orders."
“I'll try,” Lane answered. “He boarded that
yacht last night in mistake. He thought that it
was a hired one, but it isn't. It's mine. I found
him there last night, entertaining a little party of his
friends in the saloon. They seemed quite comforta-
ble, so I begged them to remain on as my guests for
a short time.”
“ To remain ? " she murmured, bewildered. “For
how long?"
“ Until you've just read this through and thought
it over.”
.


364 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
He passed her a document which he had drawn
from his pocket. She took it from him wonderingly.
When she had read a few lines, the colour came
streaming into her cheeks. She threw it to the
ground. He picked it up and replaced it in his
pocket.
“ But it is preposterous !” she cried. “ That is a
marriage license!”
“ That's precisely what it is,” he admitted. “I
thought we'd be married at Nice. My sister is wait-
ing to go along with us. I said we'd pick her up at
the Hotel de Paris.”
Severe critics of her undoubted beauty had ven-
tured at times to say that Fedora's face lacked ex-
pression. There was, at that moment, no room for
any such criticism. Amazement struggled with in-
dignation in her eyes. Her lips were quivering, her
breath was coming quickly.
: “Do you mean — have you given her or any one
to understand that there was any likelihood of my
consenting to such an absurd scheme?”
“I only told her what I hoped,” he said quietly.
“ That is all I dared say even to myself. But I
want you to listen to me.”
His voice had grown softer. She turned her head
and looked at him. He was much taller than she
was, and in his grey tweed suit, his head a little
thrown back, his straw hat clasped in his hands be-
hind him, his clear grey eyes full of serious purpose,
he was certainly not an unattractive figure to look
upon. Unconsciously she found herself comparing
him once more with the men of her world, found her-
self realising, even against her will, the charm of his


AN AMAZING ELOPEMENT 365
naïve and dogged honesty, his youth, his tenacity of
purpose. She had never been made love to like this
before.
“Please listen," he begged. “I am afraid that
your father must be in a tearing rage by now, but it
can't be helped. He is out there and he hasn't got
an earthly chance of getting back until I give the
word. We've got plenty of time to reach Nice be-
fore he can land. I just want you to realise, Fe-
dora, that you are your own mistress. You can
make or spoil your own life. No one else has any
right to interfere. Have you ever seen any one yet,
back in your own country, amongst your own people,
whom you really felt that you cared for — who you
really believed would be willing to lay down his life
to make you happy? "
“No," she confessed simply, “I do not know that
I have. Our men are not like that.”
“ It is because,” he went on, “ there is no one back
there who cares as I do. I have spent some years of
my life looking — quite unconsciously, but looking
all the same — for some one like you. Now I have
found you I am glad I have waited. There couldn't
be any one else. There never could be, Fedora. I
love you just in the way a man does love once in his
life, if he's lucky. It's a queer sort of feeling, you
know,” he continued, leaning a little towards her.
“ It makes me quite sure that I could make you
happy. It makes me quite sure that if you'll give
me your hand and trust me, and leave everything to
me, you'll have just the things in life that women
want. Won't you be brave, Fedora ? There are
some things to break through, I know, but they don't


366 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
amount to much — they don't, really. And I love
you, you know. You can't imagine yet what a won-
derful difference that makes. You'll find out and
you'll be glad.”
She stood quite still. Her eyes were still fixed
seawards, but she was looking beyond the yacht, now,
to the dim line where sky and sea seemed to meet.
The vision of her past days seemed to be drawn out
before her, a little monotonous, a little wearisome
even in their splendour, more than a little empty.
And underneath it all she was listening to the new
music, and her heart was telling her the truth.
“ You don't need to make any plans," he said
softly. “Go and put on your hat and something to
wear motoring. Bring a dressing-bag, if you like.
Flossie is waiting for us and she is rather a dear.
You can leave everything else to me.”
She looked timidly into his eyes. A new feeling
was upon her. She gave him her hand almost shyly.
Her voice trembled.
“If I come,” she whispered, “ you are quite sure
that you mean it all? You are quite sure that you
will not change?"
He raised her hand to his lips.
“Not in this world, dear,” he answered, with sub-
lime confidence, “nor any other!”
She stole away from him. He was left alone upon
the terrace, alone, but with the exquisite conviction
of her return, promised in that last half-tremulous,
half-smiling look over her shoulder. Then suddenly
life seemed to come to him with a rush, a new life,
filled with a new splendour. He was almost humbly
conscious of bigger things than he had ever realised,


370 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ You will probably know sometime or other,” she
continued, “ so I will tell you now. I have lost four
thousand pounds to Mr. Draconmeyer. I am going
back to England to realise my own money, so as to
be able to pay him at once.”
“You borrowed four thousand pounds from Mr.
Draconmeyer?” he repeated incredulously.
“Yes! It was very foolish, I know, and I have
lost every penny of it. I am not the first woman, I
suppose, who has lost her head at Monte Carlo," she
added, a little defiantly.
“Does Mr. Draconmeyer know that you are leav-
ing?” he asked.
“ Not yet,” she answered, after a moment's hesi-
tation. “I had an interview with him yesterday
and I realised at once that the money must be paid,
and without delay. I realised, too, that it was bet-
ter I should leave Monte Carlo and break off my asso-
ciation with these people for the present.”
In a sense it was a sordid story, yet to Hunterleys
her words sounded like music.
“I am very pleased indeed,” he said quietly, “ that
you feel like that. Draconmeyer is not a man to
whom I should like my wife to owe money for a mo-
ment longer than was absolutely necessary.”
“ Your estimate of him was correct,” she con-
fessed slowly. “I am sorry, Henry."
He rose suddenly to his feet. An inspiration had
seized him.
“ Come,” he declared, “we will pay Draconmeyer
back without sending you home to sell your securi-
ties. Come and stand with me.”
She looked at him in amazement.


HONEYMOONING
371
“ Henry!” she exclaimed. “You are not going
to play? Don't! Take my advice and don't !”
He laughed.
“ We'll see,” he replied confidently. “You
wouldn't believe that I was a fatalist, would you? I
am, though. Everything that I had hoped for seems
to be happening to-day. You have found out Dra-
conmeyer, we have checkmated Mr. Grex, I have
drunk the health of Felicia and David Briston —”
“Felicia and David Briston ? ” she interrupted
quickly. “What do you mean?”
“You knew, of course, that they were engaged?”
he explained. “I called round at the villa this morn-
ing, after I had been to the hospital, and found them
busy fixing the wedding day."
She looked at him vaguely.
“ Engaged?” she murmured. “Why, I
thought "
A spot of colour suddenly burned in her cheeks.
She was beginning to understand. It was Dracon-
meyer who had put those ideas into her head. Her
heart gave a little leap.
“ Henry!” she whispered.
He was already at the table, however. He
changed five mille notes deliberately, counted his
plaques and turned to her.
“I am going to play on your principle,” he de-
clared. “I have always thought it an interesting
one. See, the last number was twenty-two. I am
going to back twenty and all the carrés."
He covered the board arou'd number twenty.
There were a few minutes of suspense, then the click
as the ball fell into the little space.


372 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“ Vingt-huit, noir, passe et pair!” the croupier
announced.
· Hunterleys' stake was swept away. He only
smiled.
“Our numbers are going to turn up,” he insisted
cheerfully. “I am certain of it now. Do you know
that this is the first time I have played since I have
been in Monte Carlo?”
She watched him half in fear. This time he staked
on twenty-nine, with the maximum en plein and all
the carrés and chevaux. Again the few moments
of suspense, the click of the ball, the croupier's voice.
“ Vingt-neuf, noir, impair et passe! ”
She clutched at his arm.
“ Henry!” she gasped.
He laughed.
“ Open your bag,” he directed. “We'll soon fill
it.”
He left his stake untouched. Thirty-one turned
up. He won two carrés and let the table go once
without staking. Ten was the next number. Im-
mediately he placed the maximum on number four-
teen, carrés and chevaux. Again the pause, again
the croupier's voice.
“ Quatorze rouge, pair et manque!”.
Hunterleys showed no exultation and scarcely any
surprise. He gathered in his winnings and repeated
his stake. This time he won one of his carrés. The
next time quatorze turned up again. For half-an-
hour he continued, following his few chosen numbers
according to the sun of the table. At the end of
that time Violet's satchel was full and he was begin-
ning to collect mille notes for his plaques. He made


374 MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO
“Four thousand pounds, my wife tells me,” Hun-
terleys remarked coolly, as he began to count out the
notes. “It is very good of you indeed to have
acted as my wife's banker. Do you mind being paid
now? Our movements are a little uncertain and it
will save the trouble of sending you a cheque.”
Draconmeyer laughed. It was not a pleasant
laugh, nor was it in the least mirthful.
“ Dear me!” he exclaimed. “I had forgotten
that little matter. As you will, certainly."
He accepted the notes and stuffed them into his
pocket.
“ By the bye,” he continued, “I think that I
ought to congratulate you, Sir Henry. That last
little affair of yours was wonderfully stage-managed.
Your country owes you more than it is ever likely to
pay. You have succeeded, at any rate, in delaying
the inevitable.” .r.
“I trust,” Hunterleys enquired politely, “ that
you were not detained upon the yacht for very long?”
“We landed at the Villa at twelve o'clock this
morning," Draconmeyer replied. “You know, of
course, of the little surprise our young American
friend had prepared for Mr. Grex?”
Hunterleys shook his head.
“ I have heard nothing definite."
“ He was married to the daughter of the Grand
Duke Augustus at midday at Nice,” Draconmeyer
announced. “ His Serene Highness received a tele-
phone message only a short time ago."
Violet gave a little cry. She leaned across the ta-
ble eagerly.
“ You mean that they have eloped?”


HONEYMOONING
377
two young people was most impressive. Fedora had
lost the dignified aloofness of Monte Carlo. She
seemed as though she had found her girlhood. She
was brilliantly, supremely happy. Richard, on the
other hand, was more serious. He took Hunterleys
on one side as they waited for the cars.
“We are on our way to Biarritz,” he said, “ by
easy stages. The yacht will meet us there and we
are going to sail at once for America."
“Fedora doesn't mind?” Hunterleys asked.
“Not in the least,” Richard declared exultantly.
“ She knows what my duty is, and, Hunterleys, I
am going to try and do it. The people over there
may need a lot of convincing, but they are going to
hear the truth from me and have it drummed into
them. It's going to be . Wake up, America!' as well
as 'Wake up, England!'”
“Stick at it, Richard,” Hunterleys advised.
“ Don't mind a little discouragement. Men who see
the truth and aren't afraid to keep on calling atten-
tion to it, get laughed at a great deal. People speak
of them tolerantly, listen to what they say, doubt its
reasonableness and put it at the back of their heads,
but in the end it does good. Your people and mine
are slow to believe and slow to understand, but the
truth sinks in if one proclaims it often enough and
loudly enough. We are going through it in our own
country just now, with regard to National Service,
for one thing. Here come your cars. You travel
in state, Richard.”
The young man laughed good-naturedly.
“ There's nothing in life which I could give her
that Fedora sha'n't have,” he asserted. “We spent


HONEYMOONING
379
6 And then?”
“What would you like to do afterwards ? ” he
asked.
“I think,” she replied, leaning towards him, “ that
I should like to go to that nice Englishman who lets
villas, and find one right at the edge of the sea, quite
hidden, and lock the gates, and give no one our ad-
dress, and have you forget for just one month that
there was any work to do in the world, or any one
else in it except me.”
“ Just to make up,” he laughed softly.
“Women are like that, you know,” she murmured.
“ The man's office is this way,” Hunterleys said,
turning off the main street.
THE END