"A friend who accompanied us told us all about her," Madame observed. "Hers has been a most remarkable career. It appears that at one time she was well-known in Paris as a singer at La Scala, and the music halls in the Champs Elysees, but some mysterious circumstance caused her to leave Paris hurriedly. She was next heard of in New York, where she was singing at the music halls, and it was said that she returned to France at the country's expense, but that, on being brought before the tribunal, the charge against her could not be substantiated, and she was therefore released. Subsequently, after a strange and chequered life, she turned up about four years ago at Monte Carlo, and became so successful that very soon she had amassed a considerable sum of money. To the attendants and those who frequent the Casino she is a mystery. For sheer recklessness no woman who comes to the tables has her equal; yet she is invariably alone, plays at her own discretion without consulting anyone, and with a thoroughly business-like air, speaks to scarcely anybody, and always rises from the table at eleven, whether winning or losing. Indeed, `The Golden Hand' is altogether a most remarkable person." "Curious," observed Zertho, reflectively. "I wish I had noticed her. You say she was sitting at our table?" "Yes," answered one of the girls. "She sat straight before you, and because you were winning she watched you closely several times." "Watched me!" he exclaimed, dismayed. "Yes," answered the girl, with a laugh. "Why, you speak as if she possessed the evil eye, or something! She's smart and good-looking certainly, but I don't think Liane need fear in her a rival." "Scarcely," he answered, with a forced smile. But the alarming truth possessed him that Mariette had surreptitiously watched Brooker and himself before they had discovered her presence. He reproached himself bitterly for having gone to Monte Carlo that night, yet gambler that he was he had been unable to resist the temptation of the tables once again ere they left the Riviera. But the woman known as "The Golden Hand" had watched them both, and by this time most probably knew where they were living. Neither he nor the Captain had any idea that Mariette Lepage still hovered about the tables, or they would certainly never have set foot inside the Principality. Liane in her cool summer-like gown sat in a low wicker lounge-chair and listened to this description of the notorious woman without uttering a word. She dared not trust herself to speak lest she should divulge the secret within her breast. She had grown uncomfortable, and only breathed more freely when, ten minutes later, they made their adieux and began to descend the Boulevard back to Nice. "So your old friend Mariette has seen you!" she exclaimed, as soon as they had walked twenty paces from the house. "Yes," he snapped. "Another illustration of my accursed luck. The sooner we leave Nice the better."