At that moment Monty came back. Was it imagination on her part, or had he gone suddenly pale? Joan saw it, and her brows met, but she was too wise to make a comment upon his appearance. Mr. Newton seated himself in his place with a word of apology and poured out a glass of champagne. Only for a second did his hand tremble, and then, with a smile, he was his old self. “What is wrong, Monty?” “Wrong? Nothing,” he said curtly, and took up the topic of conversation where he had laid it down before leaving the room. “It isn’t that old snake, is it?” asked Joan with a shiver. “Lord! that unnerves me! I never go to bed at night without looking under, or turning the clothes right down to the foot! They ought to have found it months ago if the police——” At this point she caught Monty Newton’s eye, cold, menacing, malevolent, and the rest of her speech died on her lips. Mirabelle went upstairs to dress, and Joan would have followed but the man beckoned her. “You’re a little too talkative, Joan,” he said, more mildly than she had expected. “The snake is not a subject we wish to discuss at dinner. And listen!” He walked into the passage and looked round, then came back and closed the door. “Keep that girl near you.” “Who is going to dance with me?” she asked petulantly. “I look like having a hell of a lively night!” “Benton will be there to look after you, and one of the ‘Old Guard’——” He saw the frightened look in her face and chuckled. “What’s the matter, you fool?” he asked good-humouredly. “He’ll dance with the girl.” “I wish those fellows weren’t going to be there,” she said uneasily, but he went on, without noticing her: “I shall arrive at half-past eleven. You had better meet me near the entrance to the American bar. My party didn’t turn up, you understand. You’ll get back here at midnight.” “So soon?” she said in dismay. “Why, it doesn’t end till——” “You’ll be back here at midnight,” he said evenly. “Go into her room, clear up everything she may have left behind. You understand? Nothing is to be left.” “But when she comes back she’ll——” “She’ll not come back,” said Monty Newton, and the girl’s blood ran cold. _Chapter VII_ _“Moral Suasion”_ “THERE’S a man wants to see you, governor.” It was a quarter-past nine. The girls had been gone ten minutes, and Montague Newton had settled himself down to pass the hours of waiting before he had to dress. He put down the patience cards he was shuffling. “A man to see me? Who is he, Fred?” “I don’t know: I’ve never seen him before. Looks to me like a ‘busy.’” A detective! Monty’s eyebrows rose, but not in trepidation. He had met many detectives in the course of his chequered career and had long since lost his awe of them. “Show him in,” he said with a nod.