As soon as they were seated the General ordered the coachman to turn back and drive at full speed. Riche and Marcel stared at the General, and then looked at each other for an explanation.
"Whom have we the honour of addressing?" they both asked.
"General Alfieri, Commander of the Grand Cordon of the Order of Savoy, very much at your service, gentlemen."
"Accept our humble and most sincere thanks, General. We cannot thank you sufficiently both for your well-timed help, and for your extreme courtesy and attention."
"I accept your thanks, and request you to give me the pleasure of your company to lunch. Where may you be staying?"
"At the Hotel des Anglais, Beaulieu."
"Coachman, drive to the Hotel des Anglais, these gentlemen may desire to alight in order to arrange their toilette."
Riche and Marcel were more astonished than ever. "General Alfieri," they whispered to each other. "Who on earth could he be—some Italian General of high rank evidently. But what could he be doing in the territory of the Prince of Monte Carlo, which does not belong to Italy, and how could he possibly know us?"
In a few minutes they arrived at the hotel, and all three descended.
"Pray step in," said the General, "and I will follow directly."