uminous wrap and a man's opera cloak. The
Princess threw the one over Ilse Dumont; Neeland enveloped himself in
the other.

"Now," murmured the Princess Naia, "it will look more like a late
automobile party than an ambulance after a free fight--if any early
servants are watching us."

She descended from the car; Ilse Dumont followed, still clasping the
cat under her cloak; and Neeland followed her.

"Be very quiet," whispered the Princess. "There is no necessity for
servants to observe what we do----"

A small and tremulous voice from the head of the stairs interrupted
her:

"Naia! Is it you?"

"Hush, Ruhannah! Yes, darling, it is I. Everything is all right and
you may go back to bed----"

"Naia! Where is Mr. Neeland?" continued the voice, fearfully.

"He is here, Rue! He is all right. Go back to your room, dear. I have
a reason for asking you."

Listening, she heard a door close above; then she touched Ilse on the
shoulder and motioned her to follow up the stairs. Halfway up the
Princess halted, bent swiftly over the banisters:

"James!" she called softly.

"Yes?"

"Go into the pantry and find a fruit basket and fill it with whatever
food you can find. Hurry, please."

He discovered the pantry presently, and a basket of fruit there.
Poking about he contrived to disinter from various tins and ice-boxes
some cold chicken and biscuits and a bottle of claret. These he
wrapped hastily in a napkin which he found there, placed them in the
basket of fruit, and came out into the hall just as Ilse Dumont, in
the collar and cuffs and travelling coat of a servant, descended,
carrying a satchel and a suitcase.

"Good business!" he whispered, delighted. "You're all right now,
Scheherazade! And for heaven's sake, keep out of France hereafter. Do
you promise?"

He had taken the satchel and bag from her and handed both, and the
fruit basket, to Caron, who stood outside the door.

In the shadowy hall those two confronted each other now, probably for
the last time. He took both her hands in his.

"Good-bye, Scheherazade dear," he said, with a new seriousness in his
voice which made the tone of it almost tender.

"G-good-bye----" The girl's voice choked; she bent her head and rested
her face on the hands he held clasped in his.

He felt her hot tears falling, felt the slender fingers within his
own tighten convulsively; felt her lips against his hand--an instant
only; then she turned and slipped through the open