iature. I
knocked at the wicket, the same gardienne answered the call, smiled, led
me through the cool, paved archway which held in its frame the green of
the court beyond, and up the stairs with the quaint balustrade which I
had mounted five years before to meet Philippe de St. Gre. As I reached
the gallery Madame la Vicomtesse, gowned in brown linen for riding, rose
quickly from her chair and came forward to meet me.

"You have news?" I asked, as I took her hand.

"I have the kind of news I expected," she answered, a smile tempering the
gravity of her face; "Auguste is, as usual, in need of money."

"Then you have found them," I answered, my voice betraying my admiration
for the feat.

Madame la Vicomtesse shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"I did nothing," she said. "From what you told me, I suspected that as
soon as Auguste reached Louisiana he would have a strong desire to go
away again. This is undoubtedly what has happened. In any event, I knew
that he would want money, and that he would apply to a source which has
hitherto never failed him."

"Mademoiselle Antoinette!" I said.

"Precisely," answered Madame la Vicomtesse. "When I reached home last
night I questioned Antoinette, and I discovered that by a singular chance
a message from Auguste had already reached her."

"Where is he?" I demanded.

"I do not know," she replied. "But he will be behind the hedge of the
garden at Les Iles at eleven o'clock--unless he has lost before then his
love of money."

"Which is to say--"

"He will be there unless he is dead. That is why I sent for you,
Monsieur." She glanced at me. "Sometimes it is convenient to have a
man."

I was astounded. Then I smiled, the affair was so ridiculously simple.

"And Monsieur de St. Gre?" I asked.

"Has been gone for a week with Madame to visit the estimable Monsieur
Poydras at Pointe Coupee." Madame la Vicomtesse, who had better use for
her words than to waste them at such a time, left me, went to the
balcony, and began to give the gardienne in the court below swift
directions in French. Then she turned to me again.

"Are you prepared to ride with Antoinette and me to Les Iles, Monsieur?"
she asked.

"I am," I answered.

It must have been my readiness that made her smile. Then her eyes rested
on mine.

"You look tired, Mr. Ritchie," she said. "You did not obey me and go
home last night."

"How did you know that?" I asked, with a thrill at her interest.

"Because Mad