He was pretty certain that the man was not one of Lord Caterham’s guests. “I ask your pardon,” said the stranger, with a marked foreign accent and what was meant to be an engaging smile. “It is that I wish to return to the _Jolly Crickets_, and I have lost my way. Would Monsieur be so good as to direct me?” “Certainly,” said Anthony. “But you don’t go there by water, you know.” “Eh?” said the stranger, with the air of one at a loss. “I said,” repeated Anthony, with a meaning glance at the boat-house, “that you won’t get there by water. There’s a right of way across the park—some distance away, but all this is the private part. You’re trespassing.” “I am most sorry,” said the stranger. “I lost my direction entirely. I thought I would come up here and inquire.” Anthony refrained from pointing out that kneeling behind a boat-house was a somewhat peculiar manner of prosecuting inquiries. He took the stranger kindly by the arm. “You go this way,” he said. “Right round the lake and straight on—you can’t miss the path. When you get on it, turn to the left, and it will lead you to the village. You’re staying at the _Cricketers_, I suppose?” “I am, monsieur. Since this morning. Many thanks for your kindness in directing me.” “Don’t mention it,” said Anthony. “I hope you haven’t caught cold.” “Eh?” said the stranger. “From kneeling on the damp ground, I mean,” explained Anthony. “I fancied I heard you sneezing.” “I may have sneezed,” admitted the other. “Quite so,” said Anthony. “But you shouldn’t suppress a sneeze, you know. One of the most eminent doctors said so only the other day. It’s frightfully dangerous. I don’t remember exactly what it does to you—whether it’s an inhibition or whether it hardens your arteries, but you must never do it. Good morning.” “Good morning, and thank you, monsieur, for setting me on the right road.” “Second suspicious stranger from village inn,” murmured Anthony to himself, as he watched the other’s retreating form. “And one that I can’t quite place, either. Appearance that of a French commercial traveller. I don’t quite see him as a Comrade of the Red Hand. Does he represent yet a third party in the harassed state of Herzoslovakia? The French governess has the second window from the end. A mysterious Frenchman is found slinking round the grounds, listening to conversations that are not meant for his ears. I’ll bet my hat there’s something in it.” Musing thus, Anthony retraced his steps to the house. On the terrace he encountered Lord Caterham, looking suitably depressed, and two new arrivals. He brightened a little at the sight of Anthony. “Ah, there you are,” he remarked. “Let me introduce you to Baron—er—er—and Captain Andrassy. Mr. Anthony Cade.” The Baron stared at Anthony with growing suspicion. “Mr. Cade?” he said stiffly. “I think not.” “A word alone with you, Baron,” said Anthony. “I can explain everything.” The Baron bowed, and the two men walked down the terrace together.