Louis’ face was like the face of a sphinx.  He made no protestations.  He denied nothing.  He waited simply to see where I was leading him.

“I am not sure, Louis,” I said, “that I do not believe that you had some object in taking me to the Cafe des Deux Epingles that night.  Be honest with me.  I can be a friend.  I have influence here and there, and, as I think you know, I love adventures.  Tell me what you know of this affair.  Tell me if you had any motive in taking me to the Cafe des Deux Epingles that night?”

Louis looked around the room with keen, watchful eyes.  Without abandoning his attitude of graceful attention to what I was saying, he seemed in those few moments to be absorbing every detail of the progress of the affairs in the restaurant itself.  The arrangement of the service at some tables a little way off seemed to annoy him.  He frowned and called one of his subordinates, speaking in a rapid undertone to him, and with many gestures.  The man hurried away to obey his instructions, and Louis turned to me.

“Monsieur,” said he, “there are many times when it is not wise or politic to tell the truth.  There are many times, therefore, when I have to speak falsehoods, but I will confess that I do not like it.  Always I would prefer the truth, if it were possible.  When I saw you at the Opera in Paris I thought of you only as one of my best and most valued patrons.  It was only as we stood there talking that another idea came into my head.  I acted upon it.  There was a reason why I took you to the Cafe des Deux Epingles!”

“Go on, Louis,” I said.  “Go on.”

“I took you there,” Louis continued, “because I knew that some time during the night Tapilow would come.  Already I knew what would happen if you two met.”

“You wished it to happen, then?” I exclaimed.

Louis bowed.

“Monsieur,” he said, “I did wish it to happen!  The person of whom we have spoken is no friend of mine, or of my friends.  He had entered into a scheme with certain of them, and it was known that he meant to play them false.  He deserved punishment, and I was content that he should meet it at your hands.”

“Is that all, Louis?” I asked.

“Not all, monsieur,” he continued.  “I said to myself that if monsieur quarrels with his enemy, and trouble comes of it, it will be I—­I and my friends—­who can assist monsieur.  Monsieur will owe us something for this, and the time may come—­the time, indeed, may be very close at hand—­when the services of monsieur might be useful.”

“Come, Louis,” I said, “this is better.  Now I am beginning to understand.  Go on a little further, if you please.  I acknowledge your claim upon me.  What can I do?”

“Monsieur likes excitement,” Louis murmured.

“Indeed I do!” I answered fervently.

Louis hesitated.

“If there were some plot against this man Delora,” he said, “to prevent his carrying out some undertaking, monsieur would help to frustrate it?”