The way to Pau which Mr. Sabin chose may possibly have been the most circuitous, but it was certainly the safest. Although not a muscle of his face had moved, although he had not by any physical movement or speech betrayed his knowledge of the fact, he was perfectly well aware that his little statement as to his future movements was overheard and carefully noted by the tall, immaculately dressed young man who by some strange chance seemed to have been at his elbow since he had left his rooms an hour ago. "Into the lion's mouth, indeed," he muttered to himself grimly as he hailed a hansom at the corner and was driven homewards. The limes of Berlin were very beautiful, but it was not with any immediate idea of sauntering beneath them that a few hours later he was driven to Euston and stepped into an engaged carriage on the Liverpool express. There, with a travelling cap drawn down to his eyes and a rug pulled up to his throat, he sat in the far corner of his compartment apparently enjoying an evening paper--as a matter of fact anxiously watching the platform. He had taken care to allow himself only a slender margin of time. In two minutes the train glided out of the station. He drew a little sigh of relief--he, who very seldom permitted himself the luxury of even the slightest revelation of his feelings. At least he had a start. Then he unlocked a travelling case, and, drawing out an atlas, sat with it upon his knee for some time. When he closed it there was a frown upon his face. "America," he exclaimed softly to himself. "What a lack of imagination even the sound of the place seems to denote! It is the most ignominious retreat I have ever made." "You made the common mistake," a quiet voice at his elbow remarked, "of many of the world's greatest diplomatists. You underrated your adversaries." Mr. Sabin distinctly started, and clutching at his rug, leaned back in his corner. A young man in a tweed travelling suit was standing by the opposite window. Behind him Mr. Sabin noticed for the first time a narrow mahogany door. Mr. Sabin drew a short breath, and was himself again. Underneath the rug his fingers stole into his overcoat pocket and clasped something cold and firm. "One at least," he said grimly, "I perceive that I have held too lightly. Will you pardon a novice at necromancy if he asks you how you found your way here?" Felix smiled.