Allard raised his head impulsively.
"Why," he began, then remembered the punctilious Vasili and checked himself. "I beg pardon, your Royal Highness."
A gleam of amusement flickered across Stanief's black eyes at the quickly-learned etiquette.
"Faîtes, my dear John," he granted, waiving the point.
"It occurred to me that your Royal Highness had ordered a rain coat to be left on the bench by the rear door, and when we returned it was not there. Could it be possible—"
"That it was stolen?" caught up Stanief, grasping the audacity of the idea. "Undoubtedly so. I fancied my order neglected and intended rebuking the one responsible. Officer, behold your clue: a hatless man in an English rain coat."
The phrase captivated the man's dull imagination.
"A hatless man in an English rain coat," he echoed, fascinated. "Yes, sir, thank you, sir. We will telegraph all around. If I may go, sir—"
"You are quite certain he is not aboard? I do not wish to carry any dangerous stowaways, and we sail at once."
"Quite sure, sir. I must waste no more time."