He knew this Vicomte d'Audierne by reputation; he wished to hear more of
him; and so he feigned ignorance--listening.

"What has he written about?" inquired Hilda.

"To ask if he may come and see us. I suppose he means to come and stay."

Vellacott looked what the French call "contraried."

"When?" asked the girl.

"On Monday week."

And then Mrs. Carew turned to her other letters. Vellacott took the
budget addressed to him, and walked away to where an iron table and some
chairs stood in the shade of a deodar.

In a few minutes he looked still more put out. He had learnt of the
disturbances in Paris, and was reading a rather panic-stricken letter
from Mr. Bodery. The truth was that there was no one in the office of
the _Beacon_ who knew anything whatever about French home politics
but Christian Vellacott.

A continuance of these disturbances would necessarily assume political
importance, and might even lead to a crisis. This meant an instant
recall for Vellacott. In a crisis his presence in London or Paris was
absolutely necessary to the _Beacon_.

His holiday had barely lasted twenty-four hours, and there was already a