e for the devil," said Fancourt to Bagshot.

"Shut up, Fan," rejoined Bagshot, hurriedly, and then whispered to him
quickly.

Fancourt sent self-conscious glances down the table towards Gaston; and
then a young American, newly come to Paris, said:

"Who's Zoug-Zoug, and what's Zoug-Zoug?"

"It's milk for babes, youngster," answered Bagshot quickly, and changed
the conversation.

Gaston saw something strange in the little incident; but he presently
forgot it for many a day, and then remembered it for many a day, when
the wheel had spun through a wild arc.

When they rose from the table, Meyerbeer went to Bagshot, and said:

"Say, who's Zoug-Zoug, anyway?" Bagshot coolly replied:

"I'm acting for another paper. What price?"

"Fifty dollars," in a low voice, eagerly. Bagshot meditated.

"H'm, fifty dollars! Two hundred and fifty francs, or thereabouts.
Beggarly!"

"A hundred, then."

Bagshot got to his feet, lighting a cigarette.

"Want to have a pretty story against a woman, and to smutch a man, do
you? Well, I'm hard up; I don't mind gossip among ourselves; but sell
the stuff to you--I'll see you damned first!"

This was said sufficiently loud; and after that, Meyerbeer could not ask
Fancourt, so he departed with Gaston, who courteously dismissed him,
to his astonishment and regret, for he had determined to visit the
menagerie with his quarry.

Gaston went to his apartments, and cheerily summoned Jacques.

"Now, little man, for a holiday! The menagerie: lions, leopards, and a
grand dompteuse; and afterwards dinner with me at the Cafe Blanche.
I want a blow-out of lions and that sort. I'd like to be a lion-tamer
myself for a month, or as long as might be."

He caught Jacques by the shoulders--he had not done so since that
memorable day at Ridley Court. "See, Jacques, we'll do this every year.
Six months in England, and three months on the Continent,--in your
France, if you like,--and three months in the out-of-the-wayest place,
where there'll be big game. Hidalgos for six months, Goths for the
rest."

A half-hour later they were in the menagerie. They sat near the
doors where the performers entered. For a long time they watched
the performance with delight, clapping and calling bravo like
boys. Presently the famous dompteuse entered,--Mademoiselle
Victorine,--passing just below Gaston. He looked down, interested,
at the supple, lithe creature making for the cages of lions in the
amphitheatre. The f