The elegant and scholarly Spaniard, Luiz Vaga, strolled by. He wore a canary-coloured waistcoat and walked like a fastidious and graceful bullfinch. He stopped beside Henry's breakfast-table, cocked his head on one side, and said, “Hallo. Good-morning. Heard the latest news?” Henry admitted that he had heard no news later than that in the morning press. “Chang's gone now,” said Vaga. “Gone “Somehow,” Henry said thoughtfully, “I am not surprised. L'addition, s'il vous plaÎt. No, I cannot say I am surprised. I rather thought that there would be more disappearances very shortly. Burnley and Chang. A good haul.... Who saw him going into the Bergues?” “Our friend Wilbraham, who was out late with him last night. And the Bergues people don't deny it. But they say he left again, soon after midnight. The hall porter, who has, it is presumed, been corrupted, confirms this. But he never returned to his hotel. Poor Burnley and Chang! Two good talkers, scholars, and charming fellows. There are few such, in this vulgar age. It is taking the best, this unseen hand that strikes down our delegates in their prime. So many could be spared.... But God's will must be done. These South Americans are its “There we are,” Henry thoughtfully agreed, as they strolled over the Pont du Mont Blanc. “And what, then, is Wilbraham's explanation of the affair Chang?” Vaga shrugged his shoulders. “Our friend Wilbraham is too discreet to make allegations. He merely states the fact—that he saw Chang into the Bergues between twelve and one and left him there.... “Yes, indeed,” Henry said. “It is precisely what Wilbraham has. I know it well.” “In that case, I believe if you had heard Wilbraham on this matter of his call at Les Bergues that you would agree with me that his importance suffered there some trifling eclipse.” “There may be other reasons,” said Henry, “in this case, for the manner you speak of.... But I won't say any more now.” He bit off the stream of libel that had risen to his lips and armed himself in a careful silence, while the Spaniard cocked an inquiring dark eye at his brooding profile. In the Jardin Anglais they overtook Dr. Franchi and his niece, making their way to the Assembly Hall. The ex-cardinal was Miss Longfellow said, “My! Isn't it all quite too terribly sinister! Don't you think so, Mr. Beechtree?” Henry said he did. |