"To Merroccer," repeated Olejoe, "the same place as the leather—’when he finds I’ve persuaded my niece (I’ll tell you who she is in a minute: I’m keepin’ that back to the last), when he finds I’ve took my niece for a holiday to Merroccer the chances are,’ sez the old boy, ’he’ll come after her. Now if the Duke goes to Merroccer,’ sez the chap—you’ll never guess his name, not if you guess for a million years—’if the Duke goes to Merroccer. I don’t care a damn what you do—in Merroccer.’" "Tuppy," said the Duke quickly, "you can stay out of this business if you like: if you come in there’ll be no risk and a lot of amusement. Will you come?" "Like a shot," said Tuppy. "No, you’d never guess..." Olejoe was saying. "We’ve time to pack and catch the two-twenty from Cannon Street. Just take a few things—we can buy what we want in Paris." They made a rush from the room. "You’d never guess," Olejoe rambled on with closed eyes and swaying slightly, "who the old feller was, and who the young lady was ... now," with a heavy jocularity, "I’ll give you three guesses...." He was still talking when the door slammed behind the adventurers. III There are limitations even to the powers of dukes. For instance, even a Duke starting forth at 2.30 to catch the 2.20 from Charing Cross is hardly likely to succeed, unless he performs one of those miracles of which one hears in the course of destructive and pessimistic parliamentary debate, to wit: put back the hands of time. There was time to shop and time to reflect. Time also to wire to the sedate Cole and give instructions for the management of the house during the Duke’s absence. It gave Mr. Bill Slewer time also to discover the Duke’s plans—the Duke’s instructions to Cole had included a counsel of frankness as to his whereabouts. The party left London by the nine o’clock train—that same "Continental," that Hank had "flagged"—and the crossing from Dover to Calais was a pleasant one to Tuppy’s infinite relief. They arrived in Paris before daybreak, and idled away that day and the next. The Tanneurs were in Paris, if report was true. The work of investigation was to be divided. "You do the magazins, Tuppy," said the Duke, "if you hang round the shopping centre you are pretty sure to spot ’em." The Duke haunted the Louvre, Hank systematically went through the hotel lists. Tuppy, after spending ten minutes examining the contents of a jeweller’s shop window in the Rue de la Paix, came back to the hotel thoroughly exhausted. By accident they learnt that the Tanneurs had gone on to Madrid, and there was a wild rush to catch the Sud Express. They caught it by the narrowest of margins. At Bordeaux, Tuppy got out to buy some French papers: by the merest chance met a man he knew; exchanged greetings and inquiries, spoke rudely of the dowager ... the Sud Express was half-way to the border before Tuppy realized that he ought to have been on it....