“There is a telephone in her room,” the detective continued, without removing his eyes from my face.  “We understand from the hall-porter that a message was received by her soon after her arrival.”

“Very likely,” I answered.  “I should suggest that you go and interview Miss Delora.  She will probably tell you all about it.”

They were both silent.  I felt quite certain that they had already done so.  At that moment my own telephone bell rang.  The two men exchanged quick glances.  I took up the receiver.

“Is that Capitaine Rotherby?”

I recognized the voice at once.  It was Miss Delora speaking.

“Yes!” I answered.

“I thought I should like to let you know,” she continued, “that I am no longer in the least anxious about my uncle.  He is always doing eccentric things, and I am sure that he will turn up,—­later to-night, perhaps, or at any rate to-morrow.  I do not wish any inquiries made about him.  It would only annoy him very much when he came to hear of it.”

“I am very glad to hear you say so, Miss Delora,” I answered.  “To tell you the truth, there are some men here at present who are asking me questions.  I have told them, however, that you are the only person to whom they should apply.”

Her voice, when she answered me, showed some signs of agitation.

“I have not asked the help of the police,” she declared, “and I do not need it!  They would have come to my rooms, but I refused to receive them.”

“I quite agree with you, Miss Delora,” I answered.  “Good night!”

“Good night, Capitaine Rotherby!” she said softly.  I laid down the receiver.

“You have probably overheard my conversation,” I said to the inspector.  “After that, I can only wish you good night!”

He moved at once to the door in stolid, discontented fashion.  The detective, however, lingered.

“Captain Rotherby,” he said, “I cannot blame you for your decision.  I think, however, it is only fair to warn you that you will probably find yourself better off in the long run if you do not mix yourself up in this affair.”

“Indeed!” I answered.

“There are wheels within wheels,” the man continued.  “I have no charge to make against Mr. Delora.  I have no charge to make against any one.  But I think that so far as you are concerned, you would be well advised to remember that these are merely travelling companions, and that even the most accomplished man of the world is often deceived in such.  Good night, sir!”

They left me then without another word.  I heard their footsteps die away along the corridor, the ring of the lift bell, the clatter of its ascent and descent.  Then I undressed and went to bed.

I awoke the next morning rather late, dressed and shaved in my rooms, and descended to the cafe for breakfast.  The waiter who usually served me came hurrying up with a welcoming smile.