Settling on the Hotel Victoria as our headquarters, we prepared to make the two days before our sailing as amusing as possible, but I always had before me the nightmare of the little carved casket which I was to carry with me.

I decided I would take no risks with it. I would go and fetch it from my solicitors on the afternoon of our departure, on the way to the station. It was very evident to me that this casket contained something of the greatest possible interest to several people, including in particular His Serene Highness, the Duke of Rittersheim.

When, then, Ethel, St. Nivel and I had crowded all the visits to theatres and matinees we could into the intervening two days, we sat taking our last luncheon in England, probably, for some time to come.

"I am so glad we are going by this boat instead of the next," remarked St. Nivel, taking a glass of Chartreuse from the attentive waiter who was on the look out for a parting tip; "a fortnight makes all the difference in that part of the world; we shall just get there for the tail end of the summer, which they say is glorious. A bit of a change, I am thinking," he added, with a glance out of the window, "to this kind of diluted pea-soup weather we get here in November."

"Let us see," said Ethel, with a calculating air, "this is the last week in November. We arrive there the second week in December, and the rainy season does not begin until the middle of January. We shall have a clear month to enjoy ourselves in!"

"Very delightful," I replied; "a delightful voyage under delightful circumstances."

I bowed to my cousin Ethel as I raised my liqueur glass to my lips.

She blew away the smoke of the cigarette she took from hers—we were in a private room—and smiled at me.

"You flattering old courtier!" she answered; "you get those airs through writing romances. What is more to the purpose, have you secured those three state cabins on the C deck of the Oceana?"

"Well," I answered laconically, "I've paid the money for them at any rate. Sixty-six pounds the three, over and above first-class fare!"

"And very cheap, too," replied Ethel; "the comfort of sleeping in a real brass bedstead instead of those intolerable bunks is worth three times as much!"

I looked at my cigar and said nothing; but for the generosity of the old lady of Monmouth Street, Bath, a bunk would have been my lot, without doubt, in the ordinary way. Though she had laid a heavy burden upon me, she certainly had a kind consideration for my comfort.

Further conversation was put an end to by the entry of my new man,
Brooks, with my travelling coat.

"The motor's at the door, sir," he announced.

I had engaged a special motor-brougham to take me from the hotel to my lawyers in Lincoln's Inn, and from there to the station with the precious casket in my possession; I had already banked the notes. I wished to make the journey as rapidly as possible, and Brooks was to accompany me, my luggage going on under the care of St. Nivel's man.

"Then au revoir until we meet at Euston," I said to my cousins; "mind you are in good time for the train."

"We shall be all right," answered Ethel. "I wish we were coming with you. I feel rather anxious about you."

"Don't you worry, Ethel," St. Nivel replied, "he'll be all right. He's not a child."

I went off and got into the motor, Brooks taking his seat on the box.

We rattled away through the crowded streets in the dim half-fog that was enveloping the town, and duly arrived at the dreary-looking offices of the lawyers.

There I did not lose a minute; they had been duly apprised of my coming and I found Watson the managing clerk already waiting for me.

"Here are the two packets, Mr. Anstruther," he said, handing them to me; "they are just as you left them, you see, and the seals are intact."

I examined them and found them quite correct.

"What a fortunate thing," added Watson, as I buttoned my overcoat over the pocket in which I had stowed the little parcels, "that I saw you push those two packets into the pigeon-holes, and stopped that scoundrel from laying his hands on them!"

"Yes, it was a very lucky thing," I replied, "and I am very much obliged to you for your promptness in gathering my meaning."

"Yes, it was a fortunate escape for you, sir," he added; "when I saw you go away with those two men, I never felt more miserable in my life. But, of course, we read all about the truth of it next afternoon in the evening paper. One can hardly believe such things possible in these times with our efficient police."

"Ye-es,"—I hesitated, with my mind on the thick necks and whisky-drinking proclivities of some of the "'tecs" I had known,—"I suppose we can never rely upon absolute safety in this world."

Then as I spoke a thought struck me; I noticed that the packets were rather bulging out in the pocket in which I had placed them. I had an idea I would change their position. I quickly took them out and placed one in each of my trousers pockets; there was then nothing in my appearance to denote where they were. In the result, it was a very lucky thing I had taken this precaution.

To preserve the secret of their whereabouts, I kept my hand in the breast of my travelling coat as if I were guarding the precious parcels there, and in this way I left the lawyers' office and made for the motor-brougham, the door of which was being held open by my man Brooks.

Just as I was half-way across the pavement, a man selling evening papers came rushing by and shouting—

"'Orrible murder! Suicide of the assassin! 'Orrible murder!"

He was running very fast and apparently not looking where he was going, for he knocked roughly against me as he passed, dislodging my hand from my breast; but Brooks he ran right into, full tilt, with the result that my man lost his balance and sprawled on the pavement.

It was then that a very fussy little over-dressed man came bustling up out of the fog, accompanied by a very attractive lady.

"A more disgraceful thing, sir," he said, addressing me, "I have never seen before. I trust you are not hurt, sir?"

"No, thank you, I'm all right," I answered, half inclined to laugh at Brooks scrambling up from the pavement and brushing himself, for it was a wet, slimy day and the pavements muddy. The newspaper man had disappeared.

"Why, I declare," exclaimed the little man, "the scamp has covered you with mud!"

I looked down; there certainly was a splash of mud on the front of my coat. I wondered how it had got there. Despite my assertions, the two—both the lady and the gentleman—insisted on brushing me, until in very desperation I had to get into the brougham out of their way. Then they suddenly made me very polite bows and disappeared.

Brooks mounted the box, and we rattled away to Euston. There was one thing which attracted my attention, however, on that short journey. Brooks' ungloved hand was hanging down as he sat on the box, and I noticed that he kept snapping his fingers as he sat.

"That's a very highly nervous man," I said to myself, "and even that little incident has upset him."

Brooks' nervousness passed out of my mind altogether when we reached Euston, and I sought in the bustle for my two cousins. I found them at last standing in front of the reserved coupÉ which I had taken care to have secured for us by my man.

When they saw me, a look of surprise and amusement came over their faces, and they both laughed heartily.

"What on earth have you been doing, Will?" Ethel cried. "Have you been to a suffragists' meeting on the way?"

Ethel affected to laugh at the suffragists, but in her heart I believe she would have liked to join them, and perhaps would have done so but for her brother.

"No," I answered; "what's the matter with me?"

"Look at your coat," replied St. Nivel, pointing to the breast of that garment.

I did look, and found that both my travelling coat and the coat underneath it had been cut completely through the left breast, where my pocket was, with a knife whose edge must have been as keen as that of a razor.

At the first shock I cried, half aloud—

"Good God! The packets have been stolen."

Then I recollected my forethought in placing them in my trousers pockets, and I dived my hands into them instinctively. Yes, thank God, they were all right; my two hands closed on their crisp sealed surfaces.

But how had it occurred?

I thought of the man tearing along with the evening papers, the upsetting of Brooks, and the fussy lady and gentleman who had insisted on brushing me down. I saw it all now—a carefully prepared plan!

Then I roared with laughter, much to the astonishment of Ethel and St.
Nivel.

"They've had all their trouble for nothing," I gasped, simply stamping with delight; "the silly fools have got nothing!" But I was wrong; they had got my brand new cigar case given me by Ethel with my initials on it and full of St. Nivel's best Havannahs, placed there by her own fair hands for the railway journey.