and
handed the journalist a telegram and withdrew.

"Ah, now I shall get some explanation of all this mystery! This should
come from the King.... Has he got my name?... No!... the Duke of
Haworth ... evidently the name of the individual I am supposed to
represent."

Fandor tore open the telegram and then stared in surprise. Not one word
of it could he make out. It was in cipher!

"Why the deuce was this given to me!... what does the whole thing mean?
Is it possible they take me for...."

CHAPTER V

BY THE SINGING FOUNTAINS

Paris rises very late indeed on New Year's Day. The night before is
given up to family reunions, supper parties and every kind of
jollification. So the year begins with a much needed rest. The glitter
and racket of the streets gives place to a death-like stillness. Shops
are shut and the cafes are empty. Paris sleeps. There is an exception to
this rule: Certain unfortunate individuals are obliged to rise at
day-break, don their best clothes, their uniforms and make their way to
the four corners of the town to pay ceremonial calls.

These are the Government officials representing the army, the
magistracy, the parliament, the municipality--all must pay their
respects to their chiefs. For this hardship they receive little
sympathy, as it is generally understood that while they have to work
hard on New Year's Day, they do nothing for the rest of the year.

The somnolence of Paris, however, only extends until noon. At that hour
life begins again. It is luncheon time.

This New Year's Day differed in no wise from others, and during the
afternoon the streets were thronged with people.

A pale sun showed in the gray winter sky and the crowd seemed to be
converging toward the Place de la Concorde. Suddenly the blare of a
brass band on the Rue Royale brought curious heads to the windows.

A procession headed by a vari-colored banner was marching toward the
banks of the Seine. The participants wore a mauve uniform with gold
trimmings and upon the banner was inscribed in huge letters:

LA CAPITALE

THE GREAT EVENING PAPER

With some difficulty the musicians reached the Obelisk and at the foot
of the monument they formed a circle, while at a distance the crowd
awaited developments.

In the front rank two young women were standing.

One of them seemed to be greatly amused at the gratuitous entertainment,
the other appeared preoccupied and depressed.

"Come, Marie Pascal, do