AT BEAULIEU
"The sun upon the calmest sea
Appears not half so bright as thee."
The next morning Madame Villebois, whose slumbers had been disturbed
by the excitement and noise during the night, and who loved ease, was
having her chocolate in bed, and studying the menu which the maid had
brought up for her special benefit.
"Marie," she said, as her maid propped her back up against the
pillows, "you are to be sure to make friends with the chef and bring
me a copy of the menus for lunch and dinner as soon as they are
printed, and, Marie, fetch me my portemonnaie. See, give him this
and tell him to allow you to see how the entrées are prepared, and
don't forget the sauces--especially the sauces, do you understand?
Oh, I forgot--yes--find out whether he wraps the red mullet in paper
soaked in olive oil or butter, be sure and ask him this, as it is most
important, and don't forget also to find out how he prepares his gigot
à la Mailly, and his poulets à la Villeroy. Do you think, Marie, that
he will tell you all this for a small pourboire?"
"Please, madame, I have seen him already and he is a most charming
gentleman. He has such a sweet smile and such lovely whiskers. I think
if you will leave him to me, madame, I will find out all you want. You
know I have my little ways with gentlemen."
"Marie, what do you mean? How dare you take liberties with men? And
with cooks of all people! You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I shall
have to give you notice."
"Oh, but, madame, if you only saw him. He is such a nice gentleman, he
patted me under the chin and gave me a kiss on my lips."
Madame gave a start that nearly threw her out of bed, and stared at her
as if she were some new animal at the Zoo.
"Marie, Marie, leave the room this minute. I shall tell my husband the
moment I get back to Paris, and he will dismiss you at once when he
hears it. Oh, dear, what shall I do? To think you have disgraced the
family in this way. I would dismiss you now, you vulgar thing, but--"
"Thank you, ma'am," Marie replied, curtseying with a pout.
"Thank you, indeed. Wait and see what Dr. Villebois will say to you.
You dare to simper and smile after this?"
Marie readjusted her pillows, and her lips curled in a defiant smile,
for she knew the doctor would take her part every time. Hadn't he on
one occasion given her a brooch instead of dismissing her when madame
drove her out of the room, and on another occasion a pair of turquoise
ear-rings, when she handed her over to her spouse for reprimand and
dismissal?
"Can I do anything more for madame?" she replied with her sweetest
smile.
"Go away, you hussy. I shall send for the doctor immediately."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Marie again, as she bowed herself out of the
room.
"Of all the impudent, brazen-faced minxes I have ever seen, Marie
is the worst," said madame to herself, as she heard the door close
behind her. "The idea of such a thing! I would have sent her about her
business there and then, only I know I cannot do without her. The airs
these hussies put on, I don't really know what the world is coming to
with their scandalous behaviour. Had it been an officer who kissed
her, it would not have mattered--but a cook, with a double chin and
whiskers! Holy Mary!" and the good lady crossed herself and sank down
among the pillows to dream of the wickedness of femmes de chambre in
general, and her own amazing righteousness. It was half-past nine when
the rest of the party sat down to breakfast in the salle à manger of
the hotel. Marcel, flushed and tired, entered the room and looked round
to see if he could detect the culprit among the numerous guests, and
failing that, sat down next to Riche who did his best to soothe his
ruffled feelings.
"I hope, my dear chap, that the pain has gone, and that you are none
the worse for the practical joke which was played on you last night,"
said Villebois, standing up and bowing to him as he sat down.
Marcel returned the salutation. "Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, wiping his
brow with a gorgeous purple silk handkerchief, "no one can imagine what
I have suffered. Even Dives could not have experienced worse sensations
in his tongue in Hades than I did in my chest. I declare a flogging
would not have hurt half as much. You should see my skin, it is all
covered with blisters the size of a five-franc piece. If it had not
been for my friend Riche who spread a handkerchief covered with Carron
oil and dionine over it, I should not have been here this morning to
breakfast, that's certain. Oh! if I could only meet the rascal who
played me that trick, I would compel him to wear a plaster like mine
for a week."
Just at the moment Monsieur Beaupaire was seized with a furious fit of
coughing and wheezing. "I am afraid," said Villebois, "the medicine and
plaster which I prescribed did not do its work as well as I expected."
"Medicine and plaster!" exclaimed Beaupaire with a look of
astonishment. "I never saw either of them, although I remember you gave
me the prescription with both remedies written down."
Marcel looked up in surprise and whispered something to Riche, while
Violette blushed up to the roots of her hair, and bent down to pick up
her napkin which she had purposely dropped. "Oh dear!" she whispered to
Céleste who was sitting between her and Riche, "whatever will become of
me?" and her face expressed unutterable things.
"Why! what have you done?"
Just then Céleste happened to lean back, and Violette turning half
round, caught Riche's eye just as she was drinking her coffee, which
caused her to swallow it in such a hurry that it nearly choked her. She
set her cup down, and whispering into Céleste's ear, walked quickly out
of the salle a manger followed by Céleste.
The two girls closed the door, ran quickly upstairs, and locked
themselves in Violette's bedroom.
"Now tell me all about it," said Céleste, as they seated themselves on
the ottoman.
"Oh! it's too dreadful for words," said Violette. "I asked Dr.
Villebois to allow me to prepare the plaster for papa, and put it on
him myself. I made a lovely one, and put three times as much mustard on
it as I was ordered, as I wanted it to do him ever so much good. Well,
I uncovered his chest and spread it carefully over and had just tucked
him up and was about to leave when I discovered to my horror that I had
entered the wrong room, and had put the plaster on a strange gentleman.
I dared not take it off for fear of waking him, and so I crept out of
the room on tip-toe. Later on when the people came rushing upstairs I
ran to see what was the matter, and found out to my horror that the
unfortunate man was--whom do you think?"
"Riche?"
"No, my dear--Marcel! Good Heavens! what shall I do? He will never
forgive me."
Céleste gave a little cry of surprise.
"Good gracious!" she exclaimed, putting her arm round Violette's
shoulder, "what a dreadful mistake to make, but I am sure, dear, with a
little tact, you will be able to put matters right."
"Do you really think he will ever forgive me?" Violette asked, looking
into her face for some gleam of hope.
"Oh yes, of course he will. I know Marcel far better than you do. He
is really a very nice man, and has far too much sense of humour to be
angry for long. Besides, you know the Italian proverb 'Ad ogni cosa e
rimedio fuora ch'alla morte.'"
"Thank you ever so much, dear, for your sympathy and advice. I shall be
much happier now," and so saying they left the room together.
Meanwhile, Riche had taken in the whole situation.
"I say, my boy," he said to Marcel, "I've found out the culprit at
last."
"Who? Where?" cried Marcel in an excited voice.
"Why, that young lady who was sitting on the other side of Céleste."
Marcel turned round and looked at the position indicated.
"Why, you surely don't mean Mademoiselle Beaupaire?"
"Yes, of course I do. I saw her blushing furiously a few minutes ago,
and I noticed her turn her face away the moment you happened to look in
her direction. Oh, there can be no doubt about it."
"By Jove, I understand it all now, it's as clear as daylight," said
Marcel, slapping Riche's thigh. "What a fool I was not to see it
before. The explanation is quite simple; she mistook my bedroom for her
father's, and as it was dark she put the plaster on the wrong man."
"Ha! ha! you've hit it, my boy, it's immensely funny. Ha! ha!" and
Riche and Marcel both held their sides and shook with laughter.
"Oh! my chest, my chest," cried Marcel, "don't make me laugh so," and
the tears streamed down his cheeks with the pain caused by his laughing.
"But I say, Riche," he said as he calmed down, "it's a terrible blow to
me."
"Why?" asked Riche, looking at him with a curious smile.
"Well, you know I--ahem--have taken quite a fancy to her. She's a
ripping girl, and as clever as they make them, and I am afraid this
silly mistake has upset the whole apple-cart."
"Are you really so gone on her as all that?" enquired Riche with a wink
of his eye.
"Well, I confess I am a bit in love with her. By Jove, Riche, she is
the finest girl in all France."
"My word, you must be in love with her," Riche replied, "I had not the
least idea that the little blind god had wounded you so deeply; ma foi!
but it's becoming serious."
"Really, monsieur, you must not joke at me like this. If you only knew
what a splendid girl she is, and how my future happiness depends on my
getting her hand, you would not laugh at me."
Riche gave a low whistle. "By Jove," he said to himself, "he is madly
in love with her and no mistake."
"Come! let's drop the subject," he said in a voice of despair, "all my
hopes are shattered by that cursed plaster. It's finished now, and it
is no good crying over spilt milk."
"What nonsense you are talking. My dear boy, it's the finest thing for
you that could ever have happened."
"The finest thing that could have happened? What do you mean?"
"My dear fellow, you've got the game in your own hands now. By putting
that beastly plaster, as you call it, on your chest, she handed you the
trump card. You have only to appear angry to bring her to her knees,
and you can name your own conditions of capitulation. Get a diamond
ring, my boy, and the sooner the better."
"Do you really think she will let me put it on her finger?"
"If she likes you ever so little, and has no one else on her string
she will, especially if you make your declaration of love at the
psychological moment."
"And how am I to know when that is?" enquired Marcel in a tone of great
anxiety.
"When she comes to beg your forgiveness. But," added Riche, "you must
not forgive her right away, you must first play with your fish. Pay out
the line until the fish is getting exhausted, and then you will be able
to haul it in without any difficulty."
"Upon my soul, Riche, you are an artful card. Where did you manage to
learn these things?"
"Ich habe gelebt and geliebt," replied Riche with a smile, humming
Schubert's well known air.
Marcel wrung his hand. "Thanks awfully. I will follow your advice to
the letter," and going into the hall he picked up his hat and stick
and left the hotel arm in arm with his friend to see the beauties and
sights of the place, but more especially with the object of purchasing
the ring to adorn his divinity's hand, so as to be ready for the attack
when they returned for lunch.
Meanwhile Delapine was walking arm in arm with Monsieur Payot and Renée
up and down the broad terrace of the hotel.
"Where are we now?" said Payot to Delapine who was well acquainted with
the Riviera.
"We are at present in the little seaside town of Beaulieu, which may be
called a suburb of Villefranche, the town you see on the right snugly
nestled in the little bay formed by the promontory over there," and he
pointed with his stick.
"What is the town still further away on our right?" said Renée as
she stood looking at a handsome steam yacht which was making its way
towards the bay of Villefranche.
"That is Nice which we passed last night in the train, and further away
you can just catch sight of Var and Antibes. That white streak there
is the carriage road--the Corniche--one of the most celebrated roads
in Europe which extends along the entire coast of the Riviera. Dante
trod the road when an exile from Italy, and it suggested to him a road
out of purgatory. In those days it was a terrible pass hewn out of the
solid rock, now rising to giddy heights, and now dropping almost to the
sea level. At times half hidden by great projecting rocks, and again
splashed by mountain streams and disappearing into deep gorges covered
with trees and ferns, it formed a majestic image to Dante of the ascent
from the Purgatorial Sea."
"But, Henri, it does not seem dreadful at all to me."
"Not now; thanks to modern engineering, instead of being a rugged road
on which a slip was frequently fatal, it is now a magnificent carriage
road as smooth as this terrace and quite as safe. We shall walk along
it this afternoon, when we will inspect the buildings and grounds of
Monte Carlo, and I think you will say that you could never be tired of
viewing such lovely scenery as we shall see, such wonderful variety
does it offer.
"Look," he said, pointing with his stick to the verdure-clad mountains
which formed the background to the picture, "how beautiful it is. See
how the slopes are covered with olive, almond, carouba, and pine trees
which grow here in such perfection as you will seek for elsewhere in
vain. What could be finer? See far away in the distance the chain of
the Alpes Maritimes with their summits decked with snow. Now come with
me round the terrace. Do you see that great isolated rock towards Nice,
standing out all by itself surmounted by a great ivy-coloured castle?
That is the castle of Eza. See how brown with age it looks, clothed
with pellitory and ivy."
"When was it built, Henri?"
"It dates from the time of the Saracens at the beginning of the ninth
century, just after the death of Charlemagne during the golden age of
the great Haroun al Raschid."
"Look, Henri, at that immense bank of rhododendrons forming a crimson
carpet above the Corniche road. What a feast of colour for a painter."
"Yes," said the professor, "and look at that ruined temple with its
Doric pillars entwined with African ivy. There, don't you see it--just
above the quaint village of Turbia, or La Turbie as it is generally
called, between those two limestone peaks, high above the rocky
promontory of Monaco, and close to the fearful precipices of the Tête
du chien. That is the triumphal tower, or Trophaea, built by Augustus
to commemorate his victory over the Ligurians, and which marked the
boundary between Gaul and Italy. In its perfect condition it formed a
magnificent tower crowned as it was by a statue of the Emperor over
twenty feet high. It must have presented an imposing appearance when
surrounded by the camp of the Roman legions. What a contrast between
the turmoil of war, the marching to and fro of the soldiers, the
clashing of arms in those days, and the peaceful single white street
bordered by houses and inns on either side, as it exists to-day. Now
only a mighty ruin remains to recall its former greatness."
"Oh, yes," said Renée, "I remember I read about it in Tennyson's
_Daisy_."
"Why, Renée, what a memory you have!"
"Not at all, Henri. You see I knew I was going to the Riviera, so I
read up all I could about the place; and now the places seem like old
friends."
"That is the way to travel, it is the only way to enjoy the scenery."
"Where are we going when the rest of the party returns?" asked Renée.
"Do you see that steep stony path near the funicular railway leading
down the hill from La Turbie?"
"Yes, I do quite well."
"Well, do you notice where it leads to?"
"Oh yes, it leads down to the rock covered with houses which I see to
the East."
"That is Monaco. Down below on the West--you cannot see it from
here--is the bathing beach of Condamine, and the chapel of Saint
Devote, the patron saint of Monaco, and there on the rocky slopes of
the Spelugues hard by to the north of the bay are grouped the various
buildings of the Casino, surrounded by villas, beautiful gardens
and hotels which are largely patronised by the players. That finely
decorated building standing on the edge of the cliff by the gardens of
St. Martin is the Oceanographic museum which is filled by the wonderful
collection of marine products collected by the Prince of Monaco. A most
interesting exhibit, I assure you, and one which I am never tired of
visiting. But that is not what I have come here to see this time.
"Look," said the professor, continuing the conversation as he pointed
to the Casino, "that is the sole object of our expedition, and when I
have done my business there, I intend to return to Paris."
"But surely, professor, you are not going to waste your time in playing
at the Casino?" said Payot and Renée in the same breath. "We never knew
you gambled."
"I never gamble--when I play, I play with knowledge, and I intend to
teach the Casino Company and their dupes a lesson which they will never
forget, and I trust we shall all profit by it."
"You speak in enigmas, professor," said Payot.
"All truth is an enigma, sir," replied Delapine with a quiet and
somewhat cynical smile, and at the same time throwing at Payot one of
those piercing glances with which he so frequently electrified his
audiences.
Renée looked at Delapine with her brown eyes filled with an enquiring
look of wonderment, and then turned to her father to see what reply he
would make, but Payot said nothing, he merely evaded a reply by tracing
figures with his cane on the sand.
The professor sat down on a chair and became absorbed in deep thought.
Renée looked alarmed, as she fancied he was about to go off in another
trance. Suddenly he sprang up. "Excuse me," he said, "I perceive that
our two friends Riche and Marcel are in trouble. I must go and rescue
them," and without another word he donned his slouch hat and went out
of the hotel grounds with rapid strides.
"What on earth is he up to?" said Payot.
"I can't imagine, but if Riche and Marcel are in trouble Henri will get
them out of their mess. Didn't you hear him tell us he would?"
"But how on earth is he able to know when he is not there to see?"
"You must ask Henri that question," said Renée. "He will tell you."
It was a lovely winter's morning. The blue sky covered the deep
sapphire blue of the Gulf of Genoa like a great turquoise dome painted
here and there with long fleecy clouds, while the restless sea broke
into tiny ripples as it lapped against the rocky cliffs of the shore,
forming feathery waves like the white wings of the seagulls.
Marcel and Riche walked along the broad white carriage road, looking at
the motor-cars and carriages as they rolled along with gaily dressed
ladies, shading themselves with parasols of every colour. Here and
there they encountered women from the country with bronzed, withered
faces like Normandy pippins, carrying huge baskets to market balanced
on their heads filled with fruit or vegetables. Then a score of noisy
children ran pell mell across the road from the national school,
shouting to each other as they ran with satchels on their backs filled
with lesson books. A little further on a herd of goats obstructed the
way, butting each other with their horns, or lingering at the roadside
to nibble the herbage, while an Italian boy with bare feet ran hither
and thither urging them forward with a stick, and calling his dog to
assist him.
The road crossed deep gorges bordered with locust trees, pines and
castania trees, while here and there were aged olive trees with their
shrunken, gnarled and twisted trunks filled with the dust of years
between the crevices of the bark. Wonderful limestone rocks towered up
the hill on the left like mediæval ruined castles varying from a creamy
white to pale lilac or deep crimson. At one spot a stream of clear
water trickled down, besprinkling with its spray soft cushions of
velvety moss embroidered with lichens, maiden-hair ferns, aspleniums,
and the beautiful white star-like leucorium nicæense. Here and there
bunches of convolvuli and cistuses unfolded their crimson and purple
trumpets.
Further on the village of Roccabrunna could be seen nestling among the
brown rocks and huge boulders which had fallen ages before, and become
partly cemented to the hillside with undergrowth and soil. Capping the
summit half hidden among the houses, the ruins of the mediæval castle
of the Lascaris arrested his eye, surrounded by lemon and orange trees.
Now the road turns aside through the village of Monaco, and on the
right he saw in front of him the bold promontory of Monaco rising
three hundred and fifty feet above the sea, which washed three of its
sides where they dipped almost perpendicularly into the blue waters.
All the way along on either side were lovely villas surrounded by
well-kept gardens filled with flowers of every hue and kind. Cacti,
palms, aloes, camphor trees, monkey trees, citron and orange trees
abounded, the latter filling the air with their fragrant perfume. In
the largest gardens they observed numerous specimens of the cedar of
Lebanon, flat-topped pines, arancarius, Californian pines--the whole
contributing to make this spot a veritable garden of Eden.
At length they passed a large jeweller's shop with a magnificent
display of diamond and ruby rings in a case in the window.
"See here," cried Marcel, "the very thing." He went in and asked to be
allowed to inspect a selection of engagement rings. Having made his
choice he became so engrossed with admiring the various objects of art
that Riche, getting tired, told his friend that he would stroll slowly
on, and bid him follow on after he had finished.
It was fully half an hour before Marcel had completed his inventory
of the shop, when looking at his watch was surprised to find how time
had slipped by. Hurrying out Marcel walked rapidly in the direction
where he knew he would find his friend. He had not gone more than a
mile when he suddenly heard a babel of voices, and to his surprise saw
a large crowd surrounding a Piedmontese beggar holding a brown bear
by a chain. The man was violently gesticulating at a gentleman who was
trying to defend himself against the menaces of the crowd, and was
struggling with two gendarmes who appeared anxious to arrest him.
"Hullo, Riche!" cried Marcel, running breathlessly up and pushing his
way to him through the crowd. "What's up? What are they pulling you
about for?"
"I saw this brute of an Italian belabouring his bear over the head with
a stick, and pulling the chain until his nose was covered with blood,
and my blood was up, so I gave the fellow a taste of the beating that
he had given the bear, and then the gendarmes, hearing the row, came up
and arrested me."
Riche struggled with the gendarmes, tried to get free, and twisting his
leg between those of one of the gendarmes Jiu-Jitsu fashion, threw him
on the ground.
Marcel flung himself on the officer, and Riche would have got free, but
the second slipped a noose of whip-cord over Riche's wrist, and drawing
it tight, twisted it with a bit of stick so violently that he almost
fainted with the pain.
Marcel was struggling on the ground with the officer, when a third
policeman pushed his way through the crowd, and they were promptly
marched away as prisoners towards the gendarmerie, followed by a crowd
of idlers.
"What have those Allemands done?" cried a workman in a blouse, to his
boon companion who was smoking the filthy stump of a cigarette.
"Ma foi, the rascals have been caught pocket-picking--serve them
jolly well right too. I saw them do it. Come, comrade, we will give
evidence and get them well lodged in the Violon. Ils sont des sacr--res
Allemands."
At this moment a carriage and pair came dashing up, and a footman
arrayed in gorgeous livery descended from his perch and opened the
door. A general, magnificently attired in full dress uniform with a
row of orders on his breast, stepped out, carrying his head proudly in
the air, and looking for all the world like one of the old heroes of
Gravelotte with his venerable-looking white locks and greyish white
beard and moustache. The crowd made way for him and cheered as he
marched with a firm military step towards the struggling prisoners.
"Halt!" he cried in a voice of thunder, as the gendarmes, petrified
with astonishment, stood at attention immediately and saluted him.
"What are you doing with those two gentlemen?" he demanded in an
imperious tone.
"We are taking them to the gendarmerie for assaulting this Piedmontese
with his bear, and for violently resisting us while we were performing
our duty in arresting him. One of them threw my comrade on to the
ground and would have killed him had not a third member of the force
arrived."
"I command you to release them immediately. Are you aware that they
happen to be particular friends of mine, and belong to the Embassy? I
shall hold you all three responsible for this. Give me your names at
once. Do you hear me?" he said, as he stamped his foot on the ground
with impatience as they hesitated to obey him.
Trembling with fear they wrote their names and numbers on a card, and
handed it to him.
"Now go," he cried, "and take care not to touch my friends again, or
beware----" and he shook a warning finger at them.
The three gendarmes stepped back a couple of paces, saluted, and then
turning round speedily became lost in the crowd.
"Now step into my carriage," said the General as the footman opened the
door for the two guests.
As soon as they were seated the General ordered the coachman to turn
back and drive at full speed. Riche and Marcel stared at the General,
and then looked at each other for an explanation.
"Whom have we the honour of addressing?" they both asked.
"General Alfieri, Commander of the Grand Cordon of the Order of Savoy,
very much at your service, gentlemen."
"Accept our humble and most sincere thanks, General. We cannot thank
you sufficiently both for your well-timed help, and for your extreme
courtesy and attention."
"I accept your thanks, and request you to give me the pleasure of your
company to lunch. Where may you be staying?"
"At the Hotel des Anglais, Beaulieu."
"Coachman, drive to the Hotel des Anglais, these gentlemen may desire
to alight in order to arrange their toilette."
Riche and Marcel were more astonished than ever. "General Alfieri,"
they whispered to each other. "Who on earth could he be--some Italian
General of high rank evidently. But what could he be doing in the
territory of the Prince of Monte Carlo, which does not belong to Italy,
and how could he possibly know us?"
In a few minutes they arrived at the hotel, and all three descended.
"Pray step in," said the General, "and I will follow directly."
As Riche and Marcel entered the hall the General stepped up to the
coachman, and handing him a bank note dismissed him.
"Now, gentlemen, pray retire to your rooms, and when you are ready you
will find me waiting for you in the hall."
As soon as Riche and Marcel had retired to their rooms, the General
entered his, and after completing his ablutions and exchanging his
military clothes for a civilian costume he returned to the hall. A few
minutes later Riche and Marcel came down the stairs together.
"I say, professor, where have you sprung from?" said Marcel. "By the
way, have you noticed a General in full uniform in the hotel?"
"No, I've seen no military man at all here, but I happened to notice a
General in full uniform drive up to the front and enter the hotel. He
was a fine, venerable looking man with white hair and a greyish white
moustache and beard."
"That's the gentleman we want. You have described him exactly. But
where has he gone to?" they enquired eagerly.
"I can't imagine. I only know that I heard him order the coachman to
drive away, as he would not be wanted again."
"Surely, professor, you must be mistaken," replied
Marcel, "as the General not only got us out of a terrible scrape, but
was kind enough to drive us here and actually invited us to lunch. In
fact he bid us remove the traces of our scrimmage with those beastly
gendarmes who tried to arrest us, and then meet him here in the hall."
"If he had not been so kind in the first instance," added Riche, "I
should have imagined that he was playing us a joke."
"But why suggest such things?" said Delapine. "If he said he would wait
for you here, he must be here."
"Please do not jest like this, professor, it is too serious a thing, we
must go and look for him at once."
"Are you sure that it is necessary to do that?" said Delapine.
"What do you mean?" they both asked.
"I mean what I say. The General kept his word, and is waiting on you
now."
"Where, where?" and Riche and Marcel looked up and down the passages in
vain.
"Why, here, you silly chaps. Can't you recognise me?" and Delapine gave
a merry twinkle with his eyes.
"What! You don't mean to say that you were the General?"
"Why not?" said the professor, turning his back to them and quickly
donning his false beard and moustache and wig. "Now look at me," said
he, turning round and saluting them.
"If this isn't just the top hole," said Marcel and Riche in a duet.
"Whoever would have thought of it, but tell us, how did you manage to
know where we were?"
"Oh! that was simplicity itself. I watched you both going out, and
then I fell into one of those dreamy states in which my subliminal
or other-self rises above the threshold--as Meyers used to say--and
then this other-self, partly freed from my animal body, has greatly
increased powers, which enables me to perceive things which are
entirely invisible to the eye, since psychic sight is affected by
altogether different laws from those which govern ordinary vision,
and moreover it is quite independent of distance. The moment I fell
into my hypnotic reverie, I saw Marcel sauntering along the Corniche
in the direction of Monaco with my mind sight as clearly as I see
you now, and I watched him half kill the Italian with his stick for
maltreating a bear, and suspecting what would happen I hurriedly left
the hotel, borrowed a General's uniform, pinned on all the second-hand
orders I could lay my hands on, and telephoned immediately for the most
expensive carriage and pair in the place. At the same time I telephoned
to the Metropole at Monte Carlo for two footmen in livery. They climbed
up on to the box-seat and I got into the carriage, and the one whom I
selected as coachman drove as fast as possible to the spot where I knew
I should meet you--and here we are," said the professor with a beaming
smile. "Come, gentlemen, let me take you to lunch, as I promised you in
the carriage. I think our good friends Beaupaire and Payot, as well as
the ladies are expecting us."
"Great Scott!" whispered Marcel to Riche, "Mephistopheles is a fool
beside our professor."