'er very self. And you ought to 'ave seen her airs. 'Thompson,' sez she,
'is Sir Chawles at 'ome?' 'No, 'e isn't,' sez I; 'but you're wanted at
the polis station.' She was in a keb, and she 'ad asked a butcher's boy
to pull the bell, so 'im and the cabby larfed. 'Thompson,' she said,
very red in the face, 'I'll 'ave you dismissed for your impidence.' An'
off she went. Did you ever 'ear anythink like it, sir?"

"No, Thompson, Miss Harding is certainly a cool hand."

Bruce walked to his chambers, and his stroll through the parks was
engrossed by one subject of thought. It was not Mrs. Hillmer, nor
Corbett, nor Dodge who troubled him. What puzzled him more than all else
was the "impidence" of Jane Harding.

CHAPTER VIII
THE HOTEL DU CERCLE

Bruce did not go to Bournemouth.

He quitted London by the next mail, and after a wearisome journey of
thirty-six hours, found himself in the garden courtyard of the Hotel du
Cercle at Monte Carlo.

Refreshed by a bath and an excellent _déjeuner_, he decided to go
quietly to work and search the visitors' book for himself without asking
any questions. The Hotel du Cercle was a popular resort, and it took him
some time, largely devoted to the elucidation of hieroglyphic
signatures, before he was quite satisfied that no one even remotely
suggestive of the name of Sydney H. Corbett had recorded his presence in
the hotel since the first week in November.

The barrister, for the first time, began to doubt Mrs. Hillmer. Twice
had her statements not been verified by facts. It was with an expression
of keen annoyance at his own folly in trusting so much to a favorable
impression that he turned to the hotel clerk to ask if the name of Mr.
Sydney H. Corbett was familiar to him.

The courteous Frenchman screwed up his forehead into a reflective frown
before he answered: "But yes, monsieur. Me, I have not seen the
gentleman, but he exists. There have been letters--two, three letters."

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