He folded the telegram and placed it carefully in his pocket. Then he fell again into a meditation punctuated by frequent chuckles. But at the end of a very few minutes, Monsieur Pelletan was back again, with a thin little notary in tow, and the necessary papers were soon drawn up. "You have only to sign, monsieur," said the notary, after he had finished reading them aloud, and he handed his formidable pen to Rushford. Monsieur Pelletan rubbed his hands together nervously as the American hesitated and looked at him. "It's not too late to draw out," remarked Rushford. "If you're not satisfied--" "I haf no tesire to traw out, monsieur," protested Pelletan, quickly. "I am entirely satisfied!" "I have one other condition to make," added the American. "What iss eet, monsieur?" questioned Pelletan, looking at him apprehensively. "You understand I'm to be a silent partner in this thing." "A--?" "A silent partner--in other words, nobody's to know I'm backing you unless I choose to tell them--absolutely no one. Do you agree?" "Oh, gladly, monsieur!" cried Pelletan, with a deep breath of relief. After all, is not glory the next best thing to riches? "And your friend?" The notary nodded a solemn promise of secrecy. "All right," and Rushford signed. Pelletan hastily affixed his signature, and the thing was done. "Now, my friend," continued the American, "which is the swellest suite of rooms you've got in the house?" "De luxe A," responded Pelletan. "Monsieur wishes--" "I wish you to get it ready at once--" "Monsieur will occupy it himself, no toubt?" "No, I won't; I'll stay right where I am. But between seven and eight o'clock to-morrow morning, there will arrive an English ship of war--" "A sheep-of-t'e-war!" echoed Pelletan, growing pale. "Certainly, a ship of war, and from it there will disembark a man named Vernon and his suite of four or five people. You will give him apartment A." Pelletan caught his breath. "Monsieur Vernon iss, I suppose, a friend?" he stammered. "No," said Rushford, "I've never seen him. But we'll have to treat him well. He's the head of the British foreign office, Pelletan; and one of the high nobility. Beside him, Zeit-Zeit will look like thirty cents!" CHAPTER III Distinguished arrivals at Weet-sur-Mer Even at this unaccustomed hour of the morning, the beach was black with people. It was not to bathe that they had come, for a chill north wind was blowing; nor was it to promenade, for they were not promenading; indeed, it was the fashionable hour for neither of these things, and no one ever dreamed of doing them at any hour other than the fashionable one. It was rather the fashionable hour to turn painfully over in one's bed, and ring the bell, and signify that coffee and rolls would be acceptable.