A moment later Mathis had gone. Graham waited. He heard the Frenchman go into the next cabin and Madame Mathis’ sharp voice.
“Well?”
“So you cannot mind your own business, eh? He is broke and I have lent him two hundred francs.”
“Imbecile! You will not touch it again.”
“You think not? Let me tell you he has given me a cheque.”
“I detest cheques.”
“I am not drunk. It is on an Istanbul bank. As soon as we arrive I shall go to the Turkish Consulate and see that the cheque is a good one.”
“A lot they will know-or care!”
“Enough! I know what I am doing. Are you ready? No! Then …”
Graham breathed a sigh of relief and examined the revolver. It was smaller than Kopeikin’s and of Belgian manufacture. He worked the safety catch and fingered the trigger. It was a handy little weapon and looked as if it had been carefully used. He looked about him for a place to put it. It must not be visible from the outside yet he must be able to get at it quickly. He decided eventually on his top left hand waistcoat pocket. The barrel, breach and half the trigger guard just fitted in. When he buttoned his jacket the butt was hidden while the lapels set in a way that concealed the bulge. What was more, he could, by touching his tie, bring his fingers within two inches of the butt. He was ready.