midnight
`` And what do you now intend to do ? '' `` Not quite so fast , my dear Ewart . Just wait and see , '' answered the man who had re-entered France by the back door . And by midnight `` Monsieur Charles Bellingham , de Londres , '' was sleeping soundly in his room in the Hôtel de Paris at Monte Carlo . During the next three days I saw but little of Bindo . His orders to me were not to approach or to worry him . I noticed him in a suit of cream flannels and Panama hat , sunning himself on the terrace before the Casino , or lunching at the Hermitage or Métropole with people he knew , appearing to the world to lead the idle life of a well-to-do man about town -- one of a thousand other good-looking , wealthy men whose habit it was annually to spend the worst weeks in the year beside the blue Mediterranean .