"Capitaine Rotherby," she said, "oh, I am very glad to see you! This
man here who sits by my side--he does not speak one word of English.
Listen, I beg. Go and find some one in the cafe--you know whom I mean,
I will not mention his name. Go and find him, and bring him here. Tell
him that Bartot is here and is terrifying me, that he threatens all
the time. Please bring him."

"I will go at once," I answered.

I bowed and turned away. Of Bartot I took no notice, though he rose at
once and seemed about to address me. I hurried into the cafe, but it
was a slack hour and there were no signs of Louis.

"Can you tell me where to find Louis?" I asked one of the waiters.

The man glanced at the clock and shrugged his shoulders.

"Perhaps in his office," he said, "but Monsieur Louis often goes out
for an hour about this time."

"Where is his office?" I asked.

The man led me into the service room and turned to the left. He
knocked at a closed door, and I heard a sleepy voice say--

"Come in!"

I entered, and found Louis in a tiny little sitting-room, curled up on
a sofa. In his hand was a pocket-book and a pencil. He appeared to
have been making memoranda. He sprang to his feet as I entered.

"Monsieur!" he exclaimed, putting away the pocket-book and rising to
his feet.

"Sorry to disturb you, Louis," I said. "Miss Delora is in the little
smoking-room, and Bartot is there,--just arrived, I suppose, from
Paris. He is terrifying her. She sent me to fetch you."

I saw Louis' lips curl into something which I can only describe as a
snarl. After that moment I never even partially trusted him again. He
looked like a wild animal, one of those who creep through the hidden
places and love to spring upon their prey unseen!

"So!" he muttered. "I come, monsieur. I come."

He followed me out and into the restaurant. As he passed along his
features composed themselves. He bent courteously toward me. He even
opened the door of the little smoking-room and insisted that I should
precede him. I stood on one side then while he went up to the pair. I
heard Felicia give a little murmur of relief. Bartot turned round
fiercely. The two faced one another, and it seemed to me that
unutterable things passed between them. They were like wild animals,
indeed,--Louis silent, composed, serene, yet with a jaguar-like glare
in his eyes, his body poised, as though to spring or defend himself,
as circumstances might dictate. Bartot, who had ris