The
baby was quickly reborn behind the drawn blinds of the carriage, and
when at last we arrived at Marseilles at 10.30 P.M. we sallied forth
and marched in solemn procession to the Terminus Hotel under the very
eyes of our watchful detective. I almost laughed in his face as we
entered the lift near the outer door, and were carried up to our rooms
upon the second floor.
I slept late, and when I woke, refreshed and fortified against
anything that might come, I looked out on to the little square with
its fringe of plane-trees, and saw my friend Mr. Tiler walking to and
fro like a sentry on his beat. He had the hotel under observation that
was clear, and it was little I should be able to do that day unknown
to him.
It did not worry me in the least, for in the early hours of calm
reflection that followed deep, restful sleep, I had thought out the
course I should pursue. I no longer dreaded pursuit; let them all
come, the more the merrier, and I meant to fully justify Mr. Tiler in
calling them to him.
I dressed slowly, lingered leisurely over my _luncheon-dejeuner_, and
then ordered a carriage, a comfortable landau and pair.
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