He looked doubtful. "Well, I don't quite know about that," he said slowly, as though weighing something over in his mind. "Look here, Mr. Morton," he added, frankly enough, "what do you want with the man? Is it anything unpleasant?" "Not at all," I answered. "I do not wish any harm to Mr. Marx unless he deserves it. I want to ask him a few questions, that's all. Unless the man's a perfect scoundrel he will be able to answer them satisfactorily, and my having discovered his whereabouts will not harm him. If, on the other hand, he cannot answer those questions, why, then, you may take my word for it, M. de Cartienne, that he's an unmitigated blackguard, perfectly unworthy of your friendship, and undeserving of the slightest consideration from you." M. de Cartienne nodded and leaned forward, with his arm across the divan. "You put the matter very plainly," he said, "and what you say is fair enough. I'll tell you how far I am prepared to help you. I won't tell you Mr. Marx's address, because I have pledged my word not to divulge it; but, if you like, I'll take you where there will be a very fair chance of your seeing him." "He is in London, then?" The Count shrugged his shoulders and smiled slightly. "Permit me to keep my word in the letter, if not in the spirit," he answered. "I am going to spend my evening in this way; I am going, first of all, to a theatre for an hour or so; then I am going to call at a couple of clubs, and afterwards I am going to a club of a somewhat different sort. If you like to be my companion for the evening I shall be charmed; and if it should happen that we run up against any friend of yours--well, the world is not so very large, after all." "Thanks. I'll come with you with pleasure!" I answered without hesitation. He stood up underneath the soft glare of the electric light, and as I turned towards him something in his face puzzled me. It was gone directly my eyes met his--gone, but not before it had left a curious impression. It seemed almost as though a triumphant light had flashed for an instant in his bright, steel-coloured eyes. CHAPTER XLIII. ABOUT TOWN. We passed up the heavily-carpeted steps into the central hall of the hotel. The Count stopped for a moment to inquire for letters at the chief porter's bureau, and as we turned away we came face to face with Lord Langerdale. He hesitated when he saw us together, but only for a moment. Then he advanced with a genial smile upon his well-cut, handsome face. "You're the very man I wanted to see, de Cartienne," he said. "I suppose you know your young friend's name by this time? Will you introduce us?" The Count looked distinctly annoyed, but he complied at once. "Lord Langerdale," he said coldly, "this is Mr. Morton. Mr. Morton--Lord Langerdale." Lord Langerdale held out his hand frankly and drew me a little on one side, although not out of the Count's hearing.