He shrugged and smiled, then drew the paper from his pocket, and I slipped it into mine--passing him back another kind of paper that he slipped into his with a grateful bow. "Do you know who the man is, or if that was his daughter?" "No, Senor. I have seen them, but can not remember where. Carlos served their table--but Carlos is stupid," he shrugged compassionately. The moment my cab turned the first corner I feverishly took out that precious paper. Sure enough, on one side were marks _I_ had not seen, but the pencilling was very faint--having had the soft tablecloth for a desk, perhaps--and showed only a meandering line, curving in and out through a group of dots. From every angle I studied it, coming to two conclusions: first, that it could mean nothing; and second, that I must have imbibed more freely than I thought to have overlooked this. But now I saw, fainter than the dots, something that resembled written words. They were so obscure, indeed, that although the light was excellent my jostling cab made it impossible for me to decipher them. Telling the driver to stop, I bent over again, and laboriously read: "I am on Mr. Graham's yacht in great da----" At this place, as I looked back upon last night, the old chap had indicated his wish to leave, and she, tearing off a corner, had let the wine card slip to the floor. It explained the broken word, the sudden interruption; and this much was not a dream, neither was the disturbing message in my hands--for what else but "danger" could the "da" mean? All was ready to weigh anchor when I stepped aboard, and when we were outside the harbor, drawing nicely toward the north, Tommy came up grumbling. "This mystery's getting heavy," he said. "Put us wise!" So I pushed him into a chair, and called the professor and Gates; then when the four of us were comfortably settled, the cushions fitting our shoulders, our pipes alight, our spirits glowing with that exhilaration which a yacht can bring as she lays over and cuts the waves, I told the story from beginning to end--sparing Sylvia where I should. For some minutes they smoked with their eyes downcast. Then Monsieur looked up in his mild way, asking: "May I see the paper?" I passed it to him and we drew together, studying it. "This is the most singular part of the affair," he said, leaning back, "because it first came to you in fact, although the man's returning for it was told in the dream--and later verified. The dots and line mean nothing, perhaps, but that interrupted message!--ah, truly it spells danger! What danger? She spoke of no danger in the dream?"