e begged to tender the enclosed as a proper and
sufficient reward for the service rendered, and 'should not trouble the
young man any further.' Of course, the chevalier didn't reply. Who
would, after having been promised wealth, education, everything one had
confessed that one most desired? Being young, high-spirited, and
bitterly, bitterly disappointed, the chevalier bundled the six hundred
marks back without a single word, and that was the last he ever heard of
the Baron von Steinheid from that day to this."

"The Baron von Steinheid?" repeated Cleek, pulling himself up as though
he had trodden upon something.

"Do you mean to say that the man whose life he saved---- Scarmelli, tell
me something: Does it happen by any chance that the 'Chevalier di
Roma's' real name is Peter Janssen Pullaine?"

"Yes," said Scarmelli, in reply. "That is his name. Why?"

"Nothing, but that it solves the riddle, and the lion has smiled for the
last time! No, don't ask me any questions; there isn't time to explain.
Get me as quickly as you can to the place where we left Mr. Narkom's
motor. Will this way lead me out? Thanks! Get back to the others, and
look for me again in two hours' time; and Scarmelli?"

"Yes, sir?"

"One last word: don't let that boy get out of your sight for one
instant, and don't, no matter at what cost, let the chevalier do his
turn to-night before I get back. Good-bye for a time. I'm off."

Then he moved like a fleetly passing shadow round the angle of the
building, and two minutes later was with Narkom in the red limousine.

"To the German embassy as fast as we can fly," he said as he scrambled
in. "I've something to tell you about that lion's smile, Mr. Narkom, and
I'll tell it while we're on the wing."

III

It was nine o'clock and after. The great show at Olympia was at its
height; the packed house was roaring with delight over the daring
equestrianship of "Mademoiselle Marie de Zanoni," and the sound of the
cheers rolled in to the huge dressing-tent, where the artists awaited
their several turns, and the chevalier, in spangled trunks and tights,
all ready for his call, sat hugging his child and shivering like a man
with the ague.

"Come, come, buck up, man, and don't funk it like this," said Senor
Sperati, who had graciously consented to assist him with his dressing
because of the injury to his hand. "The idea of you losing your nerve,
you of all men, and because of a little affair like that. You