"Perhaps," he said slowly, "perhaps she knew where they came from." "Where was that?" said Daphne. The Vice-Consul frowned. "When I last saw them," he said, "they were in the Royal Treasury." * * * * * At half-past ten the next morning I was walking upon the golf links of St. Jean-de-Luz. I was not there of choice. Two very eminent detectives--one French and one Spanish--were upon either side of me. We were close to the seventh green, when the Frenchman touched me upon the arm. "Look, sir," he said, pointing. "There is a golf party coming. They are making, no doubt, for this spot. When they arrive, pray approach and look at them. If you should recognise anyone, I beg that you will take off your hat." He bowed, and a moment later I was alone. I sat down on the turf and took out a cigarette.... With a plop, a golf ball alighted upon the green, trickled a few feet, and stopped a yard from the hole. Presently, another followed it, rolled across the turf, and struggled into the rough. I got upon my feet and strolled towards the green.... It was a mixed foursome. In a cherry-coloured jumper and a white skirt, Eulalie looked prettier than ever. She saw me at once, of course, but she took no notice. Her companions glanced at me curiously. Putter in hand, Eulalie walked to her ball--the far one--and turned her back to me. After a little consideration, she holed out. It was a match shot, and her companions applauded vigorously. Eulalie just smiled. "I'm always better," she said, "when I've something at stake." "And what," said her partner, a large blue-eyed Englishman with a grey moustache, "have you got at stake this time?" Eulalie laughed mischievously. "If I told you," she said, "you wouldn't believe me." Light-heartedly enough, they passed to the eighth tee. I watched them go thoughtfully. When the detectives came up-- "I didn't take off my hat," I explained, "because I wasn't sure. But I'm almost certain that somewhere before I've seen that great big fellow with the grey moustache." My companions were not interested. CHAPTER IX HOW JONAH TOOK OFF HIS COAT, AND BERRY FLIRTED WITH FORTUNE FOR ALL HE WAS WORTH "My dear," said Berry, "be reasonable." "With pleasure," said Daphne. "But I'm not going to let you off." Her husband frowned upon a roll. "When I say," he said, "that I have a feeling to-day that my luck is in, I'm not being funny. Only once before have I had that conviction. I was at Cannes at the time--on the point of leaving for Paris. I went to Monte Carlo instead.... That night I picked up over six hundred pounds." "I know," said his wife. "You've often told me. But I can't help it. I made you give me your word before we came here, and I'm not going to let you off." "I gave it without thinking," declared her husband. "Besides, I never dreamed I should have this feeling." "I did," said Daphne shortly. "That's why I made you promise. Have some more coffee?"