"Faust." As applied to the earthly tabernacle of madame's generous soul,
the effect of that impassioned address was ludicrous. But Felix recked
little of that. He threw the hundred-franc note on the counter.

"There, _ma petite_, be rewarded for your trust," he cried. "Now give me
the railway timetable; for I have far to go ere I return, when you and I
shall crack a bottle of Clos Vosgeot with our dinner."

Madame, who had not betrayed the least embarrassment when she and her
cafe were apostrophized in Gounod's impassioned strains, was utterly
bewildered by Poluski's wealth. Not once in many years had he owned so
much at one time, since he always drew small sums on account of his
pictures and kept himself going hand-to-mouth fashion. But here was
Felix intent on the timetable and sweeping seventy-two francs
twenty-five centimes of change into his pocket without troubling to
count a coin.

"You have found a mad Englishman, I suppose?" tittered madame.

"Better, far better, _ma cherie_; I have met a man who would be a King!"
He hurried out, climbed into a passing omnibus, and descended at the
Gare de Lyon.

Joan was just leaving the pretty hotel at Barbizon, meaning to put in
some hours of work after a distracted morning, when Felix emerged from
the interior of a ramshackle cab that had carried him from Melun to the
edge of the forest. Now, a cab drive of several miles, plus a journey
from Paris, was a sufficiently rare event in Poluski's life to make Joan
stare. His unexpected appearance chimed so oddly with her own disturbed
thoughts that she paled.

"Felix," she cried, "have you brought ill news?"

"Of whom, _chere mademoiselle_?" he demanded.

"Of--of any one?"

"Alec still reigns, if that is what you mean."

"But he has sent you?"

"What, do I look like an envoy?" He laughed. "Well, well, _ma belle_,
there is some truth in that. I come in behalf of one before whom even
Kings must bow; I represent Saint Peter! But even an apostolic
dynamitard must eat. I am starving, having sacrificed my luncheon to my
love of you. Commend me, then, to some deft handed waiter, and let
hunger and curiosity be sated at the same time."

Joan knew that Poluski would choose his own way of explaining his
presence. The hour for luncheon was long past; but she hurried to the
empty dining room and was able to secure some soup and a cold chicken.
Felix eyed the bird distrustfully.

"Although I am here in behalf of Saint Peter,