"Five o'clock! It must be he!" exclaimed the Englishman as he glanced at his watch. Both men darted to the window and saw a dusty cabriolet drawn by two horses stop in front of the post-house on the other side of the street, opposite the inn, and in another instant the Englishman turned livid with rage and cast a look of implacable hatred on the unsuspecting traveller. "It is he! It is really he!" "And he is alone," added the Maltese, quickly. "He is entering this very inn." "Everything favours us. He must have left his friend and companion in Dieppe. He is alone; there are two of us!" "Can we still count upon the smuggler's boat and assistance to-night?" suddenly inquired Russell. A new idea seemed to have struck him. A slight flush suffused his pale, cold face, and a spark of diabolical joy glittered in his eye, as he asked the question. "Yes; for desiring to reserve a means of flight in case of need, I told him he might expect us." "Courage, then," exclaimed Russell, ringing the bell, violently. "What do you mean?" inquired the Maltese. "What do you intend to do?" "You shall know, presently. Hush! here comes somebody." It was the innkeeper that had answered the summons. "The breakfast was excellent, my friend," said Russell. "How much do I owe you?" "Six francs, including the room." "Here it is, and a present for the waiter, besides." "You are very honest, monsieur. I hope to be honoured with your patronage again." "You certainly will be. But tell me, I thought I heard post-horses just now. Has there been another arrival?" "Yes, monsieur, another gentleman just came. I put him in the blue room overlooking the garden." "He is one of your old patrons, probably, as a person who has been here once is sure to come back." "Monsieur is very kind, I am sure, but it is the first time this traveller has ever stopped here." "Is he travelling in style with a retinue of servants and all that, and is he going to remain long?" "No, monsieur, only long enough to take a slight lunch. This is no rich nobleman. He is travelling alone, and looks and acts like a well-to-do tradesman. He hums tunes and drums upon the window-panes, and seems as gay as a peacock. He must be a very pleasant man." "You seem to be a great physiognomist, mine host," responded the Englishman, with a sarcastic smile. Then making a sign to his companion, he rose, remarking to the innkeeper as he did so: "_Au revoir_, my friend. We are going to take a stroll around the town, and then return to Dieppe." "If you would like to wait for the Paris diligence, it will pass through the town about eight o'clock this evening." "Thanks, but though we are sailors, we are good walkers, and it is such a fine evening I think we won't wait for it." CHAPTER VI. A CUNNING SCHEME.