Captain Anson Anstruther had reckoned without his host when he rejoiced over Alan Hawke’s departure. As the aide-de-camp sped down the darkened river, he still saw Alixe Delavigne’s eyes gleaming down on him in every tender twinkling star, but the wily agent whom he had dispatched to the Continent four days before, was near him yet, and comfortably dining in a little snug public in the Tower Hamlets, on this very night. He was looking for tools suited to a dark game which busied his reckless heart. Major Alan Hawke (temporary rank) had passed two days at Geneva in a serious conference with the sorrowing sisters Delande. His meeting with the softhearted Justine had brought the color back to the poor woman’s face, and she shyly held up the diamond bracelet to his view, murmuring, “I have thought of you and kissed it every night and morning, for your sake, Alan!” With a glance of veiled tenderness, the acute schemer took his fair dupe out upon the lake, while Euphrosyne directed the slow grinding of the mills of the gods. “I must lose no time,” Hawke pleaded, “as I have to report for duty in London.” And so, he gleaned the story of the hegira and the situation at the Banker’s Folly. He heard all, and yet felt that there was a gap in the story. Justine was true to her plighted word. He instinctively felt that Justine was holding back something of moment, and yet in his heart he felt that the price of that disclosure would be his formal betrothal to the loving Justine. But he dared not vow to marry, and the Swiss woman was loyally true to her oath. He remained “their loving brother” as yet, and when two days later, Alan Hawke departed for London direct, he mused vainly over the tangled problem until he reported to Captain Anson Anstruther. “If this greenhorn girl has any designs of her own she has not told them yet to Justine. I must get a man to help me to work my scheme, or go over to Jersey myself,” he at last decided. He was secretly happy at Captain Anstruther’s prompt injunctions to make ready for a tour of two months upon the Continent. “I shall have all your detailed instructions prepared tomorrow, Major Hawke,” said the young aide-de-camp. “Meet me, therefore, at the Junior United Service at ten o’clock; you can take a couple of days to look over London, and then proceed at once to the delicate duty which I will give to you. And, remember, the Viceroy’s orders are that you are to report to me alone, and also to preserve an absolute secrecy. Your future rank will depend upon your discretion.” Major Alan Hawke was not as cheerful, however, when he opened his private mail at Morley’s Hotel, as when he had bade adieu to Captain Anstruther. A formal communication from the Credit Lyonnais informed him that Monsieur le Professeur Andrew Fraser had formally forbidden Messrs. Glyn, Carr & Glyn to pay the four bills of exchange, acting in his capacity of executor of a will duly