vre at so much a square foot."

"Yet I saw her, without a doubt. She was not alone that morning. In
fact, a friend of mine was with her."

Poluski turned to his easel. He was in no mind to discuss Joan with this
inquiring dandy.

"That simplifies your search, monsieur," said he carelessly. "All that
is necessary is to go to your friend."

"I cannot. He is not in Paris."

"Where is he?"

"Far enough away to render it impossible that he should solve my dilemma
to-day. And the thing is urgent. I have a commission to offer, a good
one. If you help, you will be doing the young lady a turn--and yourself,
too, perhaps."

"Kindly explain, monsieur."

"I mean that I will gladly pay for any information."

"How much? Five, ten francs, a louis?"

The Pole's sarcasm was not to be mistaken. Julius was warned and drew
back hurriedly.

"I really beg your pardon," he said; "but I am so anxious to carry out
my undertaking that I have expressed myself awkwardly, and I see now
that you are misinterpreting my motives. Let me speak quite candidly. I
have no desire to meet the lady in person. An art connoisseur, who
admires her work, wishes to send her to a cathedral in a distant city to
copy a painting. He will pay well. He offers traveling expenses, hotel
bill, and five thousand francs. The picture is not a large one, and the
work easy, a Byzantine study of Saint Peter, I believe. If you tell me,
monsieur, that you can arrange the matter, I shall be pleased to leave
it entirely in your hands."

"Since when did Alec become a connoisseur?" demanded Poluski, grinning.

Marulitch was startled; but he smiled with a ready self possession that
did him credit. "It was in Monsieur Delgrado's company I saw the fair
unknown," he admitted; "but this affair does not rest with him. It is
genuine, absolutely."

"Nevertheless, this Byzantine Saint Peter hangs in Delgratz, I suppose?"

"I--I think so."

"Five thousand francs, you said, and expenses. Not bad. I'm a pretty
good hand myself. Will I do?"

The Pole was enjoying the stupid little plot; for it could wear no other
guise to him, and Count Julius was mortified by the knowledge that he
had blundered egregiously at the first step in the negotiation. What
would Beliani say? This wizened elf of a man had seen clear through
their precious scheme in an instant, and, worst of all, it had not
advanced an inch. Julius made a virtue of necessity, and placed all his
cards on the table.