me to do but to go back to Aunt Mary, which I did
in no happy frame of mind.

That Napier must have tossed its bonnet at the legal limit of speed, for
in less than an hour it drew up before this restaurant. Out jumped _my_
one of the two men and came into the room where Aunt Mary and I had sat
so long reading old French papers.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you," said he in his nice voice, "that your
man appears to be a scoundrel. He hasn't been to Le Sage's, nor to
another place which I tried. I'm afraid he has gone off with your money,
and that your only hope of getting it will be to track the fellow with a
detective."

"I don't want to track him," I said. "I never want to see him again, and
I don't care about the money. I'll engage another _chauffeur_. There
must be plenty in Paris."

As I said this he had rather a curious look on his face. I didn't
understand it then, but I did afterwards. "I'm afraid you'll find very
few who understand your make of car," he said, "which is German,
and--er--perhaps not up to the very latest date."

"I can believe anything of it," said I. "But now the crank's broken,
and----"

"I've taken the liberty of bringing another, which we took out of a
similar car," broke in the man. "The proprietor of the _garage_ across
the way thinks he can put it in for you; if not, I can help him, for I
once drove a car of the same make as yours, and have reason to remember
it."

I burst into thanks, and when I had used up most of my prettiest
adjectives I asked how long the work would take. He thought only a few
hours, and my car might be ready to start again in the afternoon.

I clapped my hands at this; then I could feel my face fall. (Funny
expression, isn't it?--almost as absurd as I "dropped my eyes"; but I
think I did that too.) "How lovely!" said I. And then, "But what good if
I can't get a _chauffeur_?"

The man's face grew red--not a bricky, ugly red; but as he was very
brown already, it only turned a nice mahogany colour, and made him look
quite engaging. "If you would take me," he said, "I am at your service."

I never was more astonished in my life, and I just sat and stared at
him. I was sure he must be making fun.

"Of course you'll think it strange," he went on in a hurry; "but the
fact is, I'm out of a job----"

"Why, are you a _real chauffeur_--a mechanic?" I couldn't help breaking
in on him. I _almost_ blurted out that I had taken him for the master,
which would have been