?" the newcomer inquired politely.

Guillot bowed. The young man handed him a card.

"I am the Baron D'Evignon," he announced, "second secretary at the
Embassy here."

Monsieur Guillot held the card and looked at his visitor. He was very
puzzled. Some dim sense of foreboding was beginning to steal in upon
him.

"Be so kind as to come in, Monsieur le Baron," he invited. "Will you not
be seated and explain to me to what I am indebted for this honour? You
do not, by any chance, mistake me for another? I am Monsieur Guillot,
lately, alas! Of Lille."

The Baron smiled ever so slightly as he waved away the chair.

"There is no mistake, Monsieur Guillot," he said. "I come to you with
a message from my Chief. He would be greatly honoured if you would
accompany me to the Embassy. He wishes a few minutes' conversation with
you."

"With me?" Monsieur Guillot echoed incredulously. "But there is some
mistake."

"No mistake, I assure you," the young man insisted.

Monsieur Guillot drew back a little into the room.

"But what have I to do with the Ambassador, or with diplomatic matters
of any sort?" he protested. "I am here on business, to see what can be
saved from the wreck of my affairs. Monsieur the Ambassador is mistaking
me for another."

The Baron shook his head.

"There is no mistake, my dear sir," he insisted. "We all recognise," he
added, with a bow, "the necessities which force the most famous of us
to live sometimes in the shadow of anonymity. If the Chief could find
little to say to Monsieur Guillot of Lille, he will, I am sure, be very
interested in a short conversation with Monsieur Henri Pailleton."

There was a brief, tense silence. The man who had called himself Guillot
was transformed. The dreams which had uplifted him a few minutes
ago, had passed. He was living very much in the present--an ugly and
foreboding present. The veins stood out upon his forehead and upon
the back of his hands, his teeth gleamed underneath his coarse, white
moustache. Then he recovered himself.

"There is some mistake," he said, "but I will come."

In silence they left the hotel and drove to the Embassy, in silence the
young man ushered his charge into the large, pleasant apartment on
the ground floor of the Embassy, where the ambassador was giving
instructions to two of his secretaries. He dismissed them with a little
wave of his hand and bowed politely to his visitor. There was no longer
any pretext on the part of Mo