"Don't, my dearest fellow! I am looking for two English ladies."
"Potz! You shall find two hundred in the hotels, ugly and fair; but the two fairest are gone this two hours."
"When?—which?" cries Stangrave, suspecting at once.
"Sabina Mellot, and a Sultana—I thought her of The Nation, and would have offered my hand on the spot: but Madame Mellot says she is a Gentile."
"Gone? And you have seen them! Where?"
"To Bertrich. They had luncheon with my mother, and then started by private post."
"I must follow."
"Ach lieber? But it will be dark in an hour."
"What matter?"
"But you shall find them to-morrow, just as well as to-day. They stay at Bertrich for a fortnight more. They have been there now a month, and only left it last week for a pleasure tour, across to the Ahrthal, and so back by Andernach."