Late though we were, whenever we had been dancing there was one member of the household who always looked for our return and met us upon our threshold. Nobby. However silently the cars stole up the drive, by the time the door was opened, always the Sealyham was on parade, his small feet together, his tail up, his rough little head upon one side, waiting to greet us with an explosion of delight. In his bright eyes the rite was never stale, never laborious. It was the way of his heart. Naturally enough, we came to look for his welcome. Had we looked in vain some night, we should have been concerned.... We were concerned this night. We opened the door to find the hall empty. Nobby was not upon parade. Tired as we were, we searched the whole house. Presently I found a note upon my pyjamas. _SIR,_ _Must tell you we cannot find Nobby, the chauffeur and me looking everywhere and Fitch as been out in Pau all evening in quest. Hoping his whereabouts is perhaps known to you,_ _Yours respectfully, J. FALCON._ I was at the Villa Buichi the following morning by a quarter to ten. It seemed just possible that the terrier was there a captive. That he was with us before we visited the house we well remembered. Whether he had entered with us and, if so, left when we did, we could not be sure. We had had much to think about.... The caretaker took an unconscionable time to answer the bell, and when I had stated my business, stoutly refused to let me search the villa without an order. My offer of money was offensively refused. I had to content myself with standing within the hall and whistling as loud as I could. No bark replied, but I was not satisfied, and determined to seek the agent and obtain a permit, the moment that Susan and I had 'done' the Château. It was in some irritation that I made my way to the Boulevard. I had no desire to see the inside of the Château then or at any time; I particularly wished to prosecute my search for the Sealyham without delay. I had had less than four hours' sleep, and was feeling rotten. In a smart white coat and skirt and a white felt hat over one eye, Susan looked most attractive. Her fresh, pretty face was glowing, her wonderful golden hair was full of lights, and the line of her slim figure, as--hands thrust deep into her coat-pockets--she leaned her small back against the balustrade, was more than dainty. Her little feet and ankles were those of a thoroughbred. As I descended from the car-- "I say," said Susan, "I've got a stone in my shoe. Where can I get it out?" I eyed her severely. "You will have a lot to tell them," I said, "won't you? Go on. Get into the car." She climbed in, sat down and leaned back luxuriously. Then she thrust out a foot with the air of a queen.... When I had replaced her shoe, she thanked me with a shy smile. Then--