They were pointing clearly to one principal highway, and that promised to lead directly from Soho to Athelstane Place. But in no way did he lose sight of the fact that, if at all possible, the capture of the money itself was greatly to be desired. That was an additional reason for refraining from putting matters into official hands; for, in that event, fearful of extradition, the pseudo-Carson would probably cease to affect Florence as a place of residence. On the contrary, as likely as not he would decide to place a considerable expanse of water between him and it. He decided it would be best at once to force from Semberry a complete confession, if possible; always duly heedful, of course, of that gentleman's anarchist connection and consequent powers. It would be necessary to be more than ever circumspect. Next morning, therefore, he proceeded to Marquis Street, St. James's. He found his warrior busy with the consumption of his morning meal. His reception was, he thought, unusually cordial. Had he known it, the Major's first impulse had been to refuse to see him. But second thoughts had prevailed; he determined it would be best to brazen it out. In the face of danger the weak brain is ever cunning. Thus it was that Mallow's reception was sufficiently jovial and hearty to have disarmed his suspicions entirely. But they were on too solid a foundation for that, and, though outwardly reciprocative, he was every bit as alert as the Major. "Mornin'," said Semberry, shaking hands with his visitor, "you're out early. Had breakfast?" "Yes, thank you. I must apologize for calling at so unusual an hour, but the fact is I want to consult you about Carson." "Nothin' to do with that chap, now," said the Major, wagging his head. "He has gone his way, I go mine." "And your way, I perceive, is also Italy," said Laurence, whose keen eyes had not failed to see a Cook's tourist ticket lying open on the table at "Lucerne to Chiasso." Semberry had overlooked it. He was somewhat disconcerted; but he hastened to make the best of a bad job. "Yes, just goin' there to see Carson," said he, sweeping the tickets into the pocket of his smoking-coat "As matter of fact, promised to take a box over for him." "Oh. Is it a sandal-wood one?" "How the--how do you know he has a sandal-wood box?" "Why, easily enough. He explained as much to Mrs. Carson when she asked him why he had that everlasting smell about him. So you intend taking the box over yourself, do you? You are indeed a good friend, Major." The Major was not appreciative of his position; but he replied bluffly enough, "Goin' for m' own sake. Carson owes me money. Not likely to see it unless I go m'self. Carson's a bit of a rogue, you know." "Are you sure he isn't somewhat more than 'a bit,' Major? Are you quite sure he is Angus Carson?" "Course I am; who else would he be?" said Semberry, with an admixture of indignation and ignorance in equal parts.