It was essential now to persuade my Lord Blackadder and his people that this was the case, and induce them to embark upon a hasty expedition into Italy.

I therefore concocted a cunning plan with l’Echelle for leading them astray.  It was easy enough to arrange for the despatch of a telegram from Milan to me at Aix, a despatch to be handed in at the former place by a friend of l’Echelle’s, but purporting to come from Lady Claire.  My man had any number of acquaintances in the railway service, one or more passed daily through Aix with the express trains going east or west; and with the payment of a substantial douceur the trick was done.

The spurious message reached me in Aix early on the third morning, and the second act in the fraud was that l’Echelle should allow Falfani to see the telegram.  He carried out the deception with consummate skill, pretending to pick my pocket of the telegram, which he then put under Falfani’s eyes.  The third act was to be my immediate exit from Aix.  I made no secret of this, very much the reverse.  Notice was given at the hotel bureau to prepare my bill, and insert my name on the list of departures by the afternoon express, the 1.41 P.M. for Modane and Italy.  It was quite certain that I should not be allowed to go off alone.

And suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, came a complete change in the situation.  Not long after I had consumed my morning cafe au lait and rolls, the conventional petit dejeuner of French custom, a letter was brought to my bedside, where, again according to rule, I was resting after my bath.

I expected no letters, no one except the porter of my London club knew my present address, and the interval was too short since my telegram to him to allow of letters reaching me in the ordinary course of the post.

I turned over the strange missive, the address in a lady’s hand quite unknown to me, examining it closely, as one does when mystified, guessing vainly at a solution instead of settling it by instantly breaking the seal.

When at last I opened it my eye went first to the signature.  To my utter amazement I read the name, “Henriette Standish.”  It was dated from the Hotel de Modena, Aix-les-Bains, a small private hotel quite in the suburbs in the direction of the Grand Port, and it ran as follows: 

“DEAR COLONEL ANNESLEY:—­I have only just seen in the Gazette des Etrangers that you are staying in Aix.  I also am here, having been unable to proceed on my journey as I intended after meeting my sister at Culoz.  I thought of remaining here a few days longer, but I have also read Lord Blackadder’s name in the list.

“What is to be done?  I am horribly frightened, and greatly vexed with myself for having put myself in this painful and most embarrassing position.

“May I venture to ask your counsel and help?  I beg and entreat you will come to me as soon as possible after receipt of this.  Ask for Mrs. Blair.  Although I have never had the pleasure of meeting you, your extreme kindness to Claire emboldens me to make this appeal to you.  I shall be at home all the morning.  Indeed, I have hardly left the house yet, and certainly shall not do so now that I know he is here.