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“Yes, old boy?”

“I did a murder last night.”

“What?”

“It’s the sort of thing that might happen to anybody. Directly Stella Vanderley broke off our engagement I—-“

“Broke off your engagement? How long were you engaged?”

“About two minutes. It may have been less. I hadn’t a stop-watch. I proposed to her at ten last night in the saloon. She accepted me. I was just going to kiss her when we heard someone coming. I went out. Coming along the corridor was that infernal what’s-her-name–Mrs. Vanderley’s maid–Pilbeam. Have you ever been accepted by the girl you love, Reggie?”

“Never. I’ve been refused dozens—-“

“Then you won’t understand how I felt. I was off my head with joy. I hardly knew what I was doing. I just felt I had to kiss the nearest thing handy. I couldn’t wait. It might have been the ship’s cat. It wasn’t. It was Pilbeam.”

“You kissed her?”

“I kissed her. And just at that moment the door of the saloon opened and out came Stella.”

“Great Scott!”

“Exactly what I said. It flashed across me that to Stella, dear girl, not knowing the circumstances, the thing might seem a little odd. It did. She broke off the engagement, and I got out the dinghy and rowed off. I was mad. I didn’t care what became of me. I simply wanted to forget. I went ashore. I–It’s just on the cards that I may have drowned my sorrows a bit. Anyhow, I don’t remember a thing, except that I can recollect having the deuce of a scrap with somebody in a dark street and somebody falling, and myself falling, and myself legging it for all I was worth. I woke up this morning in the Casino gardens. I’ve lost my hat.”

I dived for the paper.

“Read,” I said. “It’s all there.”

He read.

“Good heavens!” he said.

“You didn’t do a thing to His Serene Nibs, did you?”

“Reggie, this is awful.”

“Cheer up. They say he’ll recover.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does to him.”

He read the paper again.

“It says they’ve a clue.”

“They always say that.”

“But–My hat!”

“Eh?”

“My hat. I must have dropped it during the scrap. This man, Denman Sturgis, must have found it. It had my name in it!”

“George,” I said, “you mustn’t waste time. Oh!”

He jumped a foot in the air.

“Don’t do it!” he said, irritably. “Don’t bark like that. What’s the matter?”

“The man!”

“What man?”

“A tall, thin man with an eye like a gimlet. He arrived just before you did. He’s down in the saloon now, having breakfast. He said he wanted to see you on business, and wouldn’t give his name. I didn’t like the look of him from the first. It’s this fellow Sturgis. It must be.”

“No!”

“I feel it. I’m sure of it.”

“Had he a hat?”

“Of course he had a hat.”

“Fool! I mean mine. Was he carrying a hat?”

“By Jove, he was carrying a parcel. George, old scout, you must get a move on. You must light out if you want to spend the rest of your life out of prison. Slugging a Serene Highness is lese-majeste. It’s worse than hitting a policeman. You haven’t got a moment to waste.”

“But I haven’t any money. Reggie, old man, lend me a tenner or something. I must get over the frontier into Italy at once. I’ll wire my uncle to meet me in—-“

“Look out,” I cried; “there’s someone coming!”

He dived out of sight just as Voules came up the companion-way, carrying a letter on a tray.

“What’s the matter!” I said. “What do you want?”

“I beg your pardon, sir. I thought I heard Mr. Lattaker’s voice. A letter has arrived for him.”

“He isn’t here.”

“No, sir. Shall I remove the letter?”

“No; give it to me. I’ll give it to him when he comes.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Oh, Voules! Are they all still at breakfast? The gentleman who came to see Mr. Lattaker? Still hard at it?”

“He is at present occupied with a kippered herring, sir.”

“Ah! That’s all, Voules.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He retired. I called to George, and he came out.