A light broke in upon his brain. "There is the golden lure of the
Misses Phenie and Genie Forbes, of Chicago, U. S. A. Those madcap
girls will be easily gulled. They arrive to-morrow at nine. A few
stage asides, as to the stock romance of every Polish upstart, will
do the trick!"

"Russian brutality, fugitive Prince, Siberian wanderings, romantic
escape, killed the Russian general who burned his chateau; all
that sort of thing will enchant these. This may occupy Casimir and
leave me free. When the devil is idle he catches flies, and under
the cover of this rosy glow of romance I will get away to India,
but only after Madame Alixe Delavigne goes. I can afford to put in
ten pounds on Casimir to loosen his lying tongue. In vino veritas
may apply even to a gallant and distinguished Pole. If I can get the
true story of Alixe Delavigne's life, then I have the key of the
Johnstone mystery. Ah! There is now a duty signal for me!" The
Major smartly approached the main entrance of that cosiest of Swiss
family hotels, the Faucon, as the anxious face of a woman nurse
appeared. "Madame veut bien voir Monsieur!" simply announced the
servant. Major Hawke brushed by her with a nod and quickly mounted
the stair. To his utter surprise, on entering Madame Berthe
Louison's apartment, the signs of an approaching departure were
but too evident. A stout Swiss maiden was busied stolidly packing
several trunks in an indiscriminate haste, while the fair invalid
herself sat at the center table poring over an opened Baedeker
and the outspread maps brought on by her "business agent." Hawke's
murmured astonishment was at once cut short by the decisive notes
of Berthe Louison's flutelike voice.

"We have no time to waste, Major!" she said, with an affected