"By a rather round-about one," the Major answered, slowly striking a vesta. "The ordinary Channel passage might disagree with me, you know, so I shall travel this evening to Hull, and sail to-morrow morning for Christiania. Thence I shall get down into Germany via Hamburg." "A very neat way of evading observation," observed the Captain in a tone of admiration. "I booked my passage a fortnight ago, in case I might require it," the elder man observed carelessly. "When one desires to cover one's tracks, the ordinary Channel services are worse than useless. I call the Norwegian the circular route. I've used it more than once before. They know me on the Wilson liners." Tristram glanced at his watch. "I must be off in five minutes. What will be your address?" "Portland before long, if I'm not wary," the other replied, with a grim smile. "This is no time for joking, Maitland," Tristram said severely. "Reserve your witticisms for the warders, if you really anticipate chokee. They'll no doubt appreciate them." "Then address me Poste Restante, Brussels. I'm certain to drift to the Europe there sooner or later within the next three months," the Major said. "Very well, I must go;" and the King's messenger quickly obtained his soft grey felt hat and heavy travelling coat from the hall, filled a silver flask from a decanter, took down the blue ribbon, deftly fastened it around his neck out of sight beneath his cravat, and snatched up his travelling-bag. "I'm going along to the Foreign Office for despatches. Can I drop you anywhere from my cab?" he asked as they made their way down the stairs together. "No, my dear fellow," the Major replied. "I'm going up Bond Street." Then, on gaining St James's Street, the Captain sprang into a cab, and shouting a cheery adieu to his friend, drove off on the first stage of his tedious thousand-mile journey to the Mediterranean shore. CHAPTER SIX. IN TUSCANY. Leghorn, the gay, sun-blanched Tuscan watering-place known to Italians as Livorno, is at its brightest and best throughout the month of August. To the English, save those who reside permanently in Florence, Pisa, or Rome, its beauties are unknown. But those who know Italy--and to know Italy is to love it--are well aware that at "cara Livorno," as the Tuscans call it, one can obtain perhaps the best sea-bathing in Europe, and enjoy a perfectly delightful summer beside the Mediterranean.