Two men were talking, and evidently the matter under discussion was of
importance, for they spoke with a kind of dogged deliberation, and the
long pauses in the dialogue lent color to the belief that some weighty
matter was in debate. The beat of the rain on the balcony and its steady
rattle in the spout intervened to dull the sound of voices, but presently
one of the speakers, with an impatient exclamation, rose, opened the
small glass-paned door a few inches, peered out, and returned to his seat
with an exclamation of relief. Armitage had dropped down the ladder half
a dozen rounds as he heard the latch snap in the door. He waited an
instant to make sure he had not been seen, then crept back to the balcony
and found that the slight opening in the door made it possible for him to
see as well as hear.

"It's stifling in this hole," said Chauvenet, drawing deeply upon his
cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke. "If you will pardon the
informality, I will lay aside my coat."

He carefully hung the garment upon the back of his chair to hold its
shape, then resumed his seat. His companion watched him meanwhile with a
certain intentness.

"You take excellent care of your clothes, my dear Jules. I never have
been able to fold a coat without ruining it."

The rain was soaking Armitage thoroughly, but its persistent beat covered
any slight noises made by his own movements, and he was now intent upon
the little room and its occupants. He observed the care with which the
man kept close to his coat, and he pondered the matter as he hung upon
the balcony. If Chauvenet was on his way to America it was possible that
he would carry with him the important paper whose loss had caused so much