Hal, and ran along
the fine Boulevard d'Anspach, to the Grand Hotel.

The gilt-laced hall-porter, who was evidently awaiting us, rushed out
cap in hand, and I, quickly assuming my _role_ as Count, helped out the
"Countess," and gave the car over to one of the employes of the hotel
garage.

By the manager we were ushered into a fine suite of six rooms on the
first floor, overlooking the Boulevard, and treated with all the
deference due to persons of highest standing.

At that moment Valentine showed her cleverness by remarking that she had
not brought Elise, her maid, as she was to follow by train, and that I
would employ the services of one of the hotel valets for the time being.
Indeed, so cleverly did she assume the part that she might really have
been one of the ancient nobility of France.

I spoke in English. On the Continent just now it is considered rather
smart to talk English. One often hears two German or Italian women
speaking atrocious English together, in order to air their superior
knowledge before strangers. Therefore that I spoke English was not
remarked by the manager, who explained that our courier had given him
all instructions, and had brought the baggage in advance. The courier
was, I could only suppose, the audacious Bindo himself.

That day passed quite merrily. We lunched together, took a drive in the
pretty Bois de la Cambre, and after dining, went to the Monnaie to see
_Madame Butterfly_. On our return to the hotel I found a note from
Bindo, and saying good-night to Valentine I went forth again to keep the
appointment he had made in a cafe in the quiet Chausee de Charleroi, on
the opposite side of the city.

When I entered the little place I found the Count seated at a table
with Blythe and Henderson. The two latter were dressed shabbily, while
the Count himself was in dark-grey, with a soft felt hat--the perfect
counterfeit of the foreign courier.

With enthusiasm I was welcomed into the corner.

"Well?" asked Bindo, with a laugh, "and how do you like your new wife,
Ewart?" and the others smiled.

"Charming," I replied. "But I don't see exactly where the joke comes
in."

"I don't suppose you do, just yet."

"It's a risky proceeding, isn't it?" I queried.

"Risky! What risk is there in gulling hotel people?" he asked. "If you
don't intend to pay the bill it would be quite another matter."

"But why is the lady to pass as my wife? Why am I the Count de
Bourbriac? Why, indeed, are