hind," he said, showing the thin-worn gold
disc. "It is well, a talisman of mine, a sort of mascot. I was nearly
going without it. Rather than do that I would stay at home."

Dupontel laughed. "You are superstitious, then?" he said lightly. "It
is not much to look at, your talisman."

The Prince shook his head; it seemed impossible to make him smile
that morning.

"That is true," he agreed, "but a man must put faith in something.
When you have heard what I have to tell you, you will understand
that."

The streets, those lively streets of Paris that mask the keenness of
their commerce with so festive a face, were sunlit as they passed on
their way, and along the boulevards the trees were gracious with
young green. They went at the even and leisurely pace which is
natural in that city of many halting-places two men worth turning to
look at, so perfectly did each, in his particular way, typify his
world. Both were tall, easy-moving, sure and restrained in every
gesture. Dupontel at twenty-five, for all the boyishness that
sometimes showed in him, had already his finished personal effect;
and the Prince, white-haired, dark-browed, with a certain austerity
of expression, was as complete a thing as a work of art.

"Then what is it, exactly, that you fear from this Carigny?" asked
Dupontel, when the Prince had told him of the letter. "I have heard
the story, of course; but I never heard he was dangerous."

"It is not he that is dangerous," said the Prince.

"What, then?"

The Prince shook his head doubtfully. Such men as he seldom have a
confidant, but he was used to speak to Dupontel with more freedom
than to any other.

"Things are dangerous," he answered. "There is bad luck about; I tell
you, I feel it. And now, this business of Carigny cropping up, rising
like a ghost of the past to demand a reckoning!" He shuddered; it was
like the shudder of a man who feels a sudden chill. "A reckoning!" he
repeated. "At this rate, one is never quit of anything."

They were nearing the restaurant at which they were to lunch.
Dupontel touched his companion lightly on the arm.

"You are depressed," he said. "You must gather your forces, Monpavon.
You mustn't let Carigny find you in a state like this; it would make
things easy for him."

The Prince made a weary little gesture of assent. "I shall be ready
for him," he said. "If only-"

"If only what?"

They were at the door of the restaurant. A page like a scarlet doll
he