Some four days we knew must certainly elapse before we could receive a reply, and that time was devoted to searching the city for Kitwater and Codd.  That they had not booked passages in the same boat in which Hayle had sailed, we soon settled to our satisfaction.  In that case we knew that they must be domiciled in Naples somewhere.  In the intervals between our search Leglosse and I used our best endeavours to make Miss Kitwater enjoy her stay.  We took her to Pompeii, climbed Vesuvius together, visited Capri, Ischia, the Great Museum, the King’s Palace, and dined together every evening.  I had not been acquainted with the girl much more than a fortnight, and yet I felt as if I had known her all my life, and the greater my experience of her was, the better I liked her.  As for Leglosse, he outdid himself in his devotion.  He made the most extraordinary toilets in her honour, and on one occasion went even so far as to inform me that, if all Englishwomen were like this particular specimen, he would say good-bye to his beloved Paris, and cross the Channel never to return again.

At last the eventful day arrived, and from nine till twelve we called repeatedly at the office for the telegram that was to mean so much to us.  It was not, however, until the afternoon was well advanced that a message was received.  I could have taken my stick to the agent for the slowness with which he opened the envelope.  The clerk was called in, the code translated, and the message presently transcribed.

“This, gentlemen,” he said at last, pointing to the telegram, “is from our agent in Port Said, and is as follows—­

“Gifford, small man, grey hair, and wears spectacles.  No scar on face, cannot find first-class passenger with one.  Fear you have been deceived.”

“Confound the fellow,” I cried, “he’s done us again.  What’s worse, we’ve wasted four precious days waiting for this message.  What shall we do now?”

“Look for him elsewhere,” said Leglosse.  “If he didn’t go by that boat, he might have left by another.”

We thanked the agent for his courtesy, and were about to leave the office when another telegram was handed in.  We waited to see whether it was from the captain, and presently found that we were not destined to be disappointed.  Once more the agent consulted his code, transcribed the message, and read it to us.

“Have interviewed Gifford, threatened him with the police for using passage booked by another person.  He confesses having been induced by stranger such as you describe to accept passage Colombo.  How shall I act?”

“We’ve been done again,” I cried, bringing my fist down with a thump upon the table.  “It’s only another proof of Hayle’s cleverness.  The ingenuous rascal books his passage here, knowing very well that it will be one of the first places at which we shall make inquiries, lets fall a ‘Gideon’, and then transfers his ticket to somebody else.  I suppose he didn’t bargain for my getting out of that house in time to follow him, and to telegraph to Port Said.  Now that we are certain that he did not go that way, we must try and find out in what direction he did proceed.”