"No one has seen her, monsieur," the landlord answered. "She arrived in a close carriage, since when she has not passed the lodge gates. She has her own servants who wait upon her. Without doubt she is a person of some importance! Possibly, though, she is eccentric. They say that every entrance to the château is guarded, and that a cordon of men are always watching."
Wrayson laughed.
"A little exaggeration, my friend, there, eh?"
The landlord shrugged his shoulders.
"One cannot tell," he declared. "This, at least, is singular," he continued, bending forward confidentially. "Since the arrival of these two ladies several strangers have been observed about the place, some of whom have endeavoured to procure lodgings. They spoke French, but they were not Frenchmen or Englishmen. True, this may be a coincidence, but one can never tell. Monsieur has any further commands?"
Monsieur had none, and the landlord withdrew, smiling and bowing.
Duncan leaned across the table.
"My French," he said deliberately, "is rotten. I couldn't understand half of what that fellow said. Do you mind repeating it to me?"
Wrayson did so, and his companion listened moodily. When he had finished, Duncan was gazing steadfastly over towards the château, and knocking the ashes from his pipe.
"Sounds a little feudal, doesn't it?" he remarked, drawing his pouch from his pocket. "However, I don't suppose it is any concern of yours or of mine."
Wrayson made no direct answer. He was fully con-
