Instead, his eyes were bent lazily upon the white avenue, his thoughts apparently far away from the view ahead.

He came out of his lassitude long enough to roll and light a fresh cigarette and to don his wide madras helmet.
Suddenly he looked to the right and then arose with some show of alacrity.

Three men were approaching by the path which led down from the far-away stables.

Browne recognised the dark-skinned men as servants in the chateau--the major-domo, the chef, and the master of the stables.
"Lord Deppingham must have sent them down to pitch him over the wall," he said, with an excited grin.
"Impossible! My husband is hunting for sapphires in the ravine back of--" She did not complete the sentence.
The Enemy was greeting the statuesque natives with a friendliness that upset all calculations.

It was evident that the meeting was prearranged.
There was no attempt at secrecy; the conference, whatever its portent, had the merit of being quite above-board.