While I was smoking two cigarettes a minute on the verandah, and asking myself whether I should be Paddy the Fool to track her down, with her aunt and the Prince, Signorina Bari (who had run up to Beechy with the latest developments) came out to us. "Sir Ralph," said she, "little Miss Kidder says she must see you, in a great hurry. She has something important to tell, that she can't tell to any one else; so she has got up, and is on the sofa in a dressing-gown, in the Countess's private sitting-room." Ralph looked surprised, but not displeased, and was away twenty minutes. "Miss Beechy wants us to find out where Dalmar-Kalm has taken her mother and Miss Destrey," said he, when he returned from the interview. The order was welcome. Nothing was known at the hotel concerning the destination of the Prince and his companions in the cab, so I hurried to get the car, and Ralph and I drove off together, meaning to make inquiries in the town. "Did Miss Beechy's mysterious communication have anything to do with her cousin?" I couldn't resist asking Ralph, who sat beside me, in that blessed seat sacred so long to the One Woman. "Yes, it had," he replied discreetly. "And with Dalmar-Kalm?" "Distinctly with Dalmar-Kalm." That sent some blood up behind my eyes, and I saw Ragusa red, instead of pink. "By Jove, you've got to tell me what she did say, now!" I exclaimed. "Can't, my dear chap. It's a promise--after a confidence. But I don't mind letting out this much. It seems Miss Beechy has been playing dolls with us, as she calls it, on this trip, without any of us suspecting it--or at least seeing the game in its full extent. Owing to her manipulation of her puppets, there's the dickens to pay, and she thinks she has reason to know that Dalmar-Kalm had better not be allowed to take a long excursion with Miss Destrey, even chaperoned by our dear, wise Countess." "Good Heavens!" I jerked out. "What do you mean?" "I don't exactly know myself. Things mayn't be as serious as the little girl thinks in her present remorseful mood, no doubt intensified by her late illness. 'When the devil was sick, the devil a monk would be,' you know--and the rest of it. Still, we're safe in finding out where the party has gone and taking steps accordingly." "There's Joseph, mooning about with his hands in his pockets, like a lost soul," I exclaimed. "_Have_ lost souls pockets?" "Shut up. I'm going to catechize him. He rather likes me, and has several times relieved his mind on the subject of his master, by spitting venom to his brother chauffeur until I refused to listen." With this I stopped the car in front of the gaudy shop which had attracted the dismal little Joseph. "Is your car mended already?" I asked him in French. "It was not broken, Monsieur." "Really. I understood the Prince to say it was."