"Where will you stay for the present, then?"
"Where I am now," smiled the Count.
Dave took one long step forward, again gripping Count Surigny's right hand with both his own hands.
"Surigny, I am under more obligations than I can ever repay. Few men with the instinct of a gentleman could have endured, for weeks, having to associate with and serve such rascals as this grewsome crew. You have, indeed, proved yourself noble, and I deeply regret that I have ever allowed myself to distrust and dislike you."
"Let us say no more," begged the Count. "After the chase is over—and may you win the game—you will find me here, reveling in the thought that I have been able to warn you so completely."
Had it not been that he again remembered how late it was growing, Ensign Darrin would have remained longer with this now bright-faced Frenchman. As it was, Dave tore himself away from Surigny, and lost no time in rejoining his party below.
As Dave stepped to the table, Lieutenant Whyte, of the British Navy, raised his eyebrows in slight interrogation. None spoke.
"I don't know," smiled Darrin, "how it goes with you gentlemen of England, but I am sure Dalzell will agree with me that it is time to get back to our ship."
"It is," Dalzell affirmed, taking the cue.
The score was settled, after which the party left the hotel. Dave stepped to Whyte's side. Through the streets of the little town the party passed quickly by twos, gayly chatting. Once they were clear of the streets and near the mole Dave began: