cafe. As
Louis passed over it I saw a change in the man. Always colorless, his
white cheeks were graven now with deep, cob-webbed lines. His eyes
seemed to have receded into his head. His manner lacked that touch of
graceful and not unbecoming confidence which one had grown to admire.

"What can I do for you, messieurs?" he asked, with a little bow. "A
table for two--yes? This way."

We followed him to a small table in the best part of the room.

"Monsieur had good sport in the country?" he asked me.

"Excellent, Louis!" I answered. "How are things in town?"

Louis shrugged his shoulders and glanced around.

"As one sees," he answered, "here we are fortunate. Here we are
always, always busy. We turn people away all the time, because we
prefer to serve well our old customers."

"Louis," I said, "you are wonderful!"

"What will the gentlemen eat?" Louis asked.

I looked at Lamartine, and Lamartine looked at me. The same thought
was in the minds of both of us. Curiously enough we felt a certain
delicacy in letting Louis perceive our dilemma!

"Those cold grouse look excellent," Lamartine said to me, pointing to
the sideboard.

"Cold grouse are very good," Louis assented. "I will have one
specially prepared and sent up."

Lamartine shook his head.

"Bring over the dish there, and let us look at them, Louis," he said.

Louis obeyed him. There was no alternative. Lamartine, without
hesitation, coolly took one of the birds on to his own plate.

"Our luncheon is arranged for, Louis," he said. "Let a waiter bring us
a dish and carving-knife. I like to carve myself at the table."

"But certainly!" Louis assented, and, calling a waiter, he glided
away. Lamartine and I exchanged glances.

"I fancy we are pretty safe with this bird," he remarked.

"Absolutely," I answered. "He never had the ghost of a chance to
tamper with it. The question of drinks is a little difficult," I
continued.

"And I am very thirsty," Lamartine said. "An unopened bottle of hock,
eh?"

I shook my head.

"No good," I answered. "I am convinced that Louis has a cellar of his
own. Did you notice the fellow, by the bye?" I went on. "He shows
signs of the worry of this thing. Somehow or other I do not fancy that
Louis will be in this place a week from to-day."

"That may be," Lamartine answered, "but I must drink!"

There was a bottle of whiskey upon the table next to us, from which
its occupant had been helping himself. He rose now