Hillard strained his eyes, but saw neither Kitty nor the veiled lady again. Doubtless they were already on the train. Had Merrihew been an old traveler he would have left him to get to Monte Carlo the best way he could; but Merrihew was as helpless as a child, and he hadn't the heart to desert him, though he deserved to be deserted.
Ding-ding! went the bell. Toot-toot! went the horn. Whee-whee! went the whistle. The train for Monte Carlo was drawing out, and they were being left behind. Hillard swore and Merrihew went white with impotent anger. If only he could hit something! The inspector smiled and went on with his deadly work. When he was certain that they could not possibly catch the train, he chalked the cases, handed the cigars to their owner, and pointed to a sign the other side of the barricade.
"What shall I do now, Jack?" Merrihew asked.
"I refuse to help you. Find out yourself."
So Merrihew, hopeless and subdued, went into the room designated, saw the cigars taken out and weighed, took the bill and presented it with a hundred-lire note at the little window in the off-room. The official there pushed the money back indifferently.
"Française, Monsieur, française!"
Merrihew blinked at him. What was the matter now? Was the note bad?
"Change, cambio!" said the official testily. Would tourists never learn anything?
Merrihew got it through his head somehow where the difficulty lay. He went out again, remembering the sign Cambio hanging in front of the news-stand. He lost half a dollar in the exchange, but for the time being his troubles were over.
Meanwhile Hillard had made inquiries at the door. No, the official there told him, he had not noticed the lady in the veil. So many passed; it was impossible to recollect.