ago. I am glad I've been able to see the place—you don't mind."
"Why should I mind, Ian?"
"I hope there's no reason. Since Smedley hasn't turned up, no harm is done."
"He is here!" said Terry quickly, in a changed voice.
They both glanced down the road. A carriage was driving up. In it sat Major Smedley, old-looking and yellow in his gray flannels and travelling-cap. Even as they saw him, he saw them, standing there together on the hotel balcony. A flash of intelligence darted from his eyes. He half smiled; and then bit his lip. As he raised his cap to Miss Ricardo, she turned her shoulder, cutting him deliberately.
"Too late!" she whispered. "Well—it was to be!"
"Wiser not to have cut him like that, Terry," Sir Ian said quickly. "It will make him more venomous."
"Nothing could make him more venomous! This has happened, and I'm not going to be afraid of the creature. Ian, you mustn't go away from St. Pierre de Chartreuse now. You see, it would only look as if he had caught us, and we were ashamed. There is nothing in the world for either of us to be ashamed of."
"No, I won't go at once," Sir Ian answered.
The landlord came out again from the hotel, which was one of those simple inns where patron and manager are one and the same. As he prepared to welcome the
