“He’s all right, enjoying himself first-rate, sailing about somewhere in the Saratoga.”
“What’s the Saratoga?”
“A well-appointed steam-yacht, belonging to a friend of ours.”
“You thieving wretches! You’ve been and decoyed him on board, you know you ’ave.”
“Well, he’s perfectly safe, wherever he is. Come along, Teddy, there’s no time to be lost.”
“But I can’t go like this,” cried Teddy. “I haven’t even got a hat, and all my clothes are on the yacht.”
We bought him a dreadful French straw-hat up in Monaco, and then we jumped into a carriage and drove down to the tailor’s, next the “Grand Hotel.” As we drove, I questioned Mrs. Wingham as to what was known and said in the town about our escapade.
“Why,” said Mrs. Wingham, “people have been terribly frightened, and are beginning to leave the place.”
“Good! And what line are the authorities taking?”
“They are denying it all, right and left, but they are determined to catch you, all the same.”