“Capitaine Rotherby,” she said, “I believe, I do, indeed, that you have acted out of kindness to me.  My uncle, as you see, is very angry.  What he has said has not been from my heart, but from his.  Yet, as you know, I must obey!”

I raised her fingers to my lips, and I smiled into her face.

“Felicia,” I said, “do not be afraid.  This is not the end!”

Delora turned to the servant whom he had summoned.

“Show this gentleman out, Francois,” he said coldly.

* * * * *

Lamartine was a few minutes late.  He drove up in a large motor-car with an elderly gentleman, who remained inside, and with whom he talked for a few minutes earnestly before he joined me.

“You forgive me?” he asked, as he handed his hat and stick to an attendant.  “The chief kept me talking.  He brought me down here himself.”

I nodded.

“It is of no consequence,” I said.  “I have some news for you.”

“Nothing,” Lamartine declared, passing his arm through mine, “will surprise me.”

“Delora is here,” I said, “with his niece!”

Lamartine stopped short.

“Under his own name?” he asked.  “Do you mean that he has thrown off all disguise?  That he is here as Maurice Delora?”

“I never knew his Christian name,” I answered, “but he is here as Delora, right enough.  He has taken the largest suite in the Court, and for the last quarter of an hour he has been dressing me down in great shape.”

“He is magnificent!” Lamartine said softly, “If he can keep it up for twenty-four hours longer, he who has been a beggar practically for ten years will be worth a great fortune!”

“So that,” I remarked, “was the stake!”

“A worthy one, is it not so, my friend?” Lamartine declared.

“Does he win?” I asked.

“Heaven knows!” Lamartine answered.  “Even now I cannot tell you.  Unless something turns up, I should say that it was very likely.”

We entered the cafe.  When Louis saw us arrive together he stood for a moment motionless upon the floor.  His eyes seemed to question us with swift and fierce curiosity.  Had we arrived together?  Was this a chance meeting?  How much was either in the other’s confidence?  These things and many others he seemed to ask.  Then he came slowly towards us.  A ray of sunshine, streaming through the glass roof of the courtyard and reflected through the window, lay across the floor of the cafe.  As Louis passed over it I saw a change in the man.  Always colorless, his white cheeks were graven now with deep, cob-webbed lines.  His eyes seemed to have receded into his head.  His manner lacked that touch of graceful and not unbecoming confidence which one had grown to admire.

“What can I do for you, messieurs?” he asked, with a little bow.  “A table for two—­yes?  This way.”

We followed him to a small table in the best part of the room.