the doctor sharply, "and why not, sir?" As Fitz-Fulke
hesitated, he added brusquely: "There! Run away and play! I've
business with this young man," pointing to McFeckless.

As Fitz-Fulke escaped gladly from the room, the doctor turned to
McFeckless. "It won't do, my boy. The Princess is not for you--you'll
only break your heart and ruin your family over her! That's my advice.
Chuck her!"

"But I cannot," said McFeckless humbly. "Think of her weirdly
beautiful eyes."

"I see," said the doctor meditatively; "sort of makes you feel creepy?
Kind of all-overishness, eh? That's like her. But whom have we here?"

He was staring at a striking figure that had just entered, closely
followed by a crowd of admiring spectators. And, indeed, he seemed
worthy of the homage. His magnificent form was closely attired in a
velveteen jacket and trousers, with a singular display of pearl buttons
along the seams, that were absolutely lavish in their quantity; a hat
adorned with feathers and roses completed his singularly picturesque
equipment.

"Chevalier!" burst out McFeckless in breathless greeting.

"Ah, mon ami! What good chance?" returned the newcomer, rushing to him
and kissing him on both cheeks, to the British horror of Sir Midas, who
had followed. "Ah, but you are perfect!" he added, kissing his fingers
in admiration of McFeckless's Florentine dress.

"But you?--what is this ravishing costume?" asked McFeckless, with a
pang of jealousy. "You are god-like."

"It is the dress of what you call the Koster, a transplanted Phenician
tribe," answered the other. "They who knocked 'em in the road of Old
Kent--know you not the legend?" As he spoke, he lifted his superb form
to a warrior's height and gesture.

"But is this quite correct?" asked Fitz-Fulke of the doctor.

"Perfectly," said the doctor oracularly. "The renowned ''Arry Axes'--I
beg his pardon," he interrupted himself hastily, "I mean the
Chevalier--is perfect in his archaeology and ethnology. The Koster is
originally a Gypsy, which is but a corruption of the word 'Egyptian,'
and, if I mistake not, that gentleman is a lineal descendant."

"But he is called 'Chevalier,' and he speaks like a Frenchman," said
Fluffy.

"And, being a Frenchman, of course knows nothing outside of Paris,"
said Sir Midas.

"We are in the Land of Mystery," said the doctor gravely in a low
voice. "You have heard of the Egyptian Hall and the Temple of Mystery?"

A shudder