“I can’t lose it,” he said.  “There are things in it which I wouldn’t have anyone’s—­which I couldn’t replace.”

“Your sister the Princess will buy you another,” I tried to console him.

“This is her bag.  She would feel dreadfully if it were gone.  Besides, my diary-notes for the book I want to write are in it.  I would give a thousand dollars to get it again—­or more.  I shall have to go back.”

“No, you won’t,” I said.  “As to that, I shall put my foot down.  If anyone goes——­”

“Nobody shall go but myself.  I won’t have it.  I——­”

“And I won’t have you go, if I’m forced to snatch you up and put you in my pocket.  When I get you safely to Orsieres, I don’t mind a bit——­”

“No, no, you needn’t say it.  If we must go on to Orsieres, I’ll pay someone to come back from there, and search.”

“Why shouldn’t I be the one?  I’m not tired, only rather cross, and for all you know, I may be in urgent need of the reward you mean to offer.”

“You must be satisfied with your virtue.  I’ve my own reasons, and—­and I suppose I’m my own master?”

“By Jove!” I exclaimed, laughing.  “Eton would have done you a lot of good.  You would have had some of your girly whims knocked out of you there, my kid.”

“I wonder if that would have done me good?”

“It isn’t too late to try.  You haven’t passed the age.”

“I dare say travelling about with you will have much the same effect,” said the Boy, suddenly become an imp again.  “I think I’ll just ‘sample’ that experiment first.  But I do want my bag.”

“Dash your bag!  I’ll lend you some night things out of the mule-pack.  The lost treasure is sure to turn up again, like all bad pennies, to-morrow.”

We reached Orsieres and roused the people of the inn with comparative ease.  They could give us accommodation, but the man of the house looked dubious when he heard that a runner must at once be found to search for a travelling bag, lost nobody knew where.

“To-morrow morning, when it is light——­” he began; but Boy cut him short.  “To-morrow morning may be too late.  I will give five thousand francs to whoever finds my bag, and brings it back with everything in it undisturbed.”

The man opened his eyes wide, and I formed my lips into a silent whistle.  I thought the Boy exceedingly foolish to name such a reward, when the bag and its gold fittings could not have been worth more than a hundred pounds, and an offer of three hundred francs would have been ample.  What could the strange little person have in his precious bag, which he valued as the immediate jewel of his soul? and why would he not let me be the one to find it, thus keeping his five thousand francs in his pocket!  He “had his reasons,” forsooth!  However, it was not my business.

[Illustration:  “LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW I SAW HIM IN CONVERSATION".]