very little one.'
Instead of letting in the clutch, he sat back and folded his arms. `Now look, dearest. Things may be done that way in your thrillers, but they are not in real life. It's too damn' dangerous. For one thing the de Grasses would make mincemeat of us, and for another, if we survived the first five minutes they are clever enough to ensure that it is we who would find ourselves in prison afterwards. Before I drive you a yard, you have got to give me your solemn promise that you won't start anything.'
`All right, I promise,' she said with a sigh. `But it is a bit hard. This might have been a real chance to find out what it feels like to hold somebody up with a pistol
'Try it sometime when I am elsewhere on my lawful occasions,' he advised. `Then I'll at least remain free myself to come and bail you out.'
As he spoke the car shot forward. He was feeling guilty now at having scotched his mother's suggestion that they should drive on to St. Tropez from St. Maxime, as the sun was already going down beyond the hills ahead of them, and had he not opposed her they would by this time have been with Christina. In consequence, while exercising a fair degree of caution going round the sharp bends of the Corniche, he drove much faster than was his custom.
It was a good twenty five miles from the villa to St. Tropez; but, after St. Raphael, for about half that distance the road was nearly flat and moderately straight, as it followed the shallow curve of the great bay in the centre of which lay St. Maxime; so until they reached Beauvallon he was able to make good going. There, the road made a hairpin bend round the deep narrow gulf, then wound its way along the peninsula that had St. Tropez as its seaward end. When they pulled up in front of the great modern building of concrete and glass, that looked more like a block of flats than an hotel, it was just after seven and twilight was falling.
While on their way they had made their plan of campaign, and on entering the hotel, instead of enquiring for the Marquis at the desk, they walked straight to the lift and asked the lift man to take them up to de Grasse's suite. The lift shot up to the top floor, and as they stepped from it the man pointed out to them a door at the end of the corridor. Their footfalls making no sound on the heavy pile carpet, they advanced towards it; then John rang the bell.
After a moment the door was opened by Count Jules. He was a shortish but athletic looking young man in his middle twenties, with slim hips, broad shoulders and a plump round face. His eyes were very dark and his lips a trifle thick, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, giving him an expression of humorous good nature.
For a few seconds he stared blankly at his visitors, then recognition dawned in his eyes, and he exclaimed in English that had no more than a faint trace of accent
`Why! Surely it is John Fountain?'
`Of course,' John smiled. `I thought you were expecting us.'
Count Jules looked his astonishment. `Forgive me, but I did not know, even, that you were in this part of the world.'
John made a gesture of annoyance. `I'm so sorry. They must have made a muddle downstairs. I asked for you at the desk, and after telephoning the chap said we were to come up. But there was a woman beside us asking for somebody else, and in making the calls he must have got his lines crossed.'
A slight narrowing of the Frenchman's eyes suggested either suspicion or that he was not used to such inefficient service and meant to give the unfortunate receptionist a sharp reprimand; but before he had time to make any comment John hurried on
`I happened to meet your father last night in the Casino at Cannes. That's how I learned you were here. My mother and I have been visiting friends in St. Tropez this afternoon. On the spur of the moment I thought I would look you up before we drive back to our little villa for dinner.'
`But how nice ! I am delighted, delighted.' There was no trace in the Count's voice of anything but genuine pleasure.
`I don't think you've ever met my mother,' John said.
Enchante, Madame.' Count Jules took Molly's hand as though it were a fragile piece of porcelain, and went through the motion of kissing the back of it, although he did not actually touch it with his lips. Then he murmured, `Forgive me for keeping you standing like this in the hall. Please to come in. We are so happy to see you.'
The small hallway of the suite had four doors leading from it. That on the immediate right stood partly open. Issuing from it John had heard the murmur of voices, and he guessed that Christina was with someone there. He had spoken to Jules rather loudly in the hope that she might hear what he said, and so not sabotage his story by giving any indication that they had really come to collect her. As their host pushed the door back and bowed through it, John saw over her shoulder that Christina was looking in their direction with anxious expectation. But Molly forestalled any gaffe she might have made by exclaiming
`Why, Christina ! John told me you were lunching with these friends of his, but I never expected to find you still here.'
Jules' glance switched swiftly from the girl to the newcomers, and he said in a surprised voice, `You know one another, then?'
`Oh yes,' Molly replied lightly. `We are next door neighbours and quite old friends.'
When they entered the room a woman, who at first sight looked quite young, had been curled up in one corner of a big settee. As she uncurled herself and sat up Jules turned and addressed her in rapid French
`Belle mere, may I present Mrs. Fountain and her son John, who was up with me during my last year at Cambridge.' Then he added in English, `My stepmother, the Marquis de Grasse.'
The sitting room of this luxury suite was unusually spacious for an hotel, and from floor to ceiling one of its sides was composed entirely of sliding glass windows. But as the light was already fading and the Marquise was sitting with her back to them, it was difficult to tell her age. She was slim, extremely soignee, and, in the latest fashion, she had had several curls of her elaborately dressed dark hair dyed gold. Her eyes were round and blue, her mouth a little sulky looking. She was wearing a silk blouse, grey slacks with knife like creases, and over her shoulders a chinchilla fur. Extending a limp hand she said
`I am ver pleas to meet you. But my English, et ess not much good. You forgive? Perhaps you spik French?'
Molly's French being excellent, and that of both John and Christina adequate, most of the conversation which followed was carried on in that language. But the Marquise took little part in it; except to inform Molly a little later, while John and Jules were talking over old times, that although her husband owned houses in several parts of France, she much preferred to live for most of the year in hotels, as it was far less trouble.
They were already drinking cocktails, and while Jules made a fresh mix for the new arrivals, Christina said, `Madame la Marquise and Count Jules have been most kind. They insisted on my spending the afternoon here. He took me up to the old fort, then all round the harbour; and now they want me to stay and dine with them on their yacht.'
`I wish I were as young as you are and could still keep such hours,' Molly replied with a smile. `If I had been up till near dawn this morning I should be dropping asleep by now.'
Christina took the ball quickly. `That's just the trouble. I'm not used to late nights, and I really don't feel up to it.'
`Nonsense!' said Jules. `After a few glasses of champagne you will forget there is such a place as bed.'
`Unfortunately champagne does not agree with me. And as I told you some time ago, I already have quite a headache. Please don't think me rude, but I'd really rather go home.'
`If you are feeling like that it's lucky we turned up,' John put in casually. `We can give you a lift back, and save Jules from being late for his dinner.'
`No, no!' Jules protested. `A couple of aspirins will soon put your headache right, and we are not dining till nine; so if you wish you can lie down for an hour before we start. How about lying down for a while now? Belle mere will make you comfortable in our spare room.'
`No thank you. I'd rather not.'
He shrugged. `Well, our friends will not be going yet. See how you feel a little later on.' Turning to John, he added, `There are fireworks at Le Lavendou to night and we are taking the yacht round the cape to witness them. It would be a pity for her to miss that. I wish that I could ask you and your mother to accompany us, but unfortunately the dining space on the yacht is limited, and my father has already made up his party.'
Dismissing the matter, he then went on to talk about mutual friends they had known at Cambridge.
