The man's gesture was inimitable. Englishmen to him were obviously
the salt of the earth. Germans and Austrians - why, they existed
as the cattle in the fields - nothing more. Bellamy gave him a
sovereign.

"There were three Austrians who got in at Vienna," he said. "They
are in numbers ten and eleven."

"But yes, Monsieur!" the man assented. "As yet I think they are
fast asleep. Not one of them has rung for his coffee."

"Where are they booked for?"

"For London, Monsieur."

"You do not happen," Bellamy continued, "to have heard them say
anything about leaving the train before then?"

"On the contrary, sir," the porter answered, "two of the gentlemen
have been inquiring about the boat across to Dover. They were very
anxious to travel by a turbine."

Bellamy nodded.

"Thank you very much. You will be so discreet as to forget that I
have asked you any questions concerning them. As for me, if one
would know, I am on my way to Berlin."

The bell rang. The man looked outside and put his head once more