oon afterwards, Curtis dismissed the man, and noticed casually that
the opening of the door caused a pleasant draught of cool air. He
wrote a few letters, dressed, electing for a Tuxedo and black tie,
filled a cigar-case, donned a green Homburg hat, threw an overcoat over
his left arm, picked up the letters, extinguished the lights, and went
out. Again there came that rush of air from the window, and, just as
the lock snapped, a crash from the interior announced the falling of
the golf clubs, probably owing to a swaying of the wardrobe door.
Simultaneously, Curtis realized that he had left the key on the
dressing-table.

It was hardly worth while searching the floor for a chamber-maid: he
decided to inform the civil-spoken clerk, and have the key brought to
the office, at which sapient resolve Puck, who was surely abroad in New
York that night, must have chuckled delightedly. Unhappily, there were
other spirits brooding in the city, spirits before whose deathly scowls
the prime mischief-maker would have fled in terror, and Curtis, all
unwitting, brushed against one of them in the hall. His only
acquaintance, the clerk, was momentarily absent, so he turned to a
bookstall and cigar counter, and bought some stamps. A man who had
been seated in a sort of cafe, which the news-stand and a flower-stall
partially screened from the main hall, rose hurriedly when he saw
Curtis, and purchased a cigar. In doing so, he touched the young man's
shoulder, and said: "Pardon!"

Curtis turned, and looked into the singularly unprepossessing face of a
swarthy foreigner, a powerfully-built, ungainly person of about his own
age.

"That's all right," said he, licking a stamp.

"I jostled you by accident, monsieur," said the other, in correct
French, though with a quaint accent which Curtis, himself no mean
linguist, put down to a Polish or Czech nationality.

"_Ca ne fait rien_," he replied civilly, and the stamping of the
letters being completed, he took them to the letter-box.

The stranger, who seemed to be rather puzzled, if somewhat reassured,
dawdled over the lighting of the cigar, and watched Curtis enter the
dining-room. Then he went back to his chair in the cafe. So much, and
no more, did the youth in charge of the counter observe--not a great
deal, but it went a long way before midnight.

A clock in the hall showed that the hour was five minutes to seven.
Half hoping that Devar might actually put in an appearance a li