But he, bowing, answered, “No, Madame; it is impossible.”  He waited a moment, then muttered, “I have promised to take the Bank in a quarter of an hour.”

Sylvia turned away.  Tears had sprung to her eyes.  But Chester saw nothing of her agitation, and a moment later they were all four out in the kindly darkness.

CHAPTER XX

Even to Chester there was something grateful in the sudden stillness in which he and the three others found themselves on leaving the Casino.

“Not a very safe issue out of a place where people carry about such a lot of money!” he exclaimed, as they made their way up the rough little lane.  “One could half-throttle anyone here, and have a very good chance of getting off!”

“Oh, Lacville is a very safe place!” answered Madame Wachner, laughing her jovial laugh.  “Still, considering all the money made by the Casino, it is too bad they ’aven’t made a more splendid—­what do you call it—?”

“—­Approach,” said L’Ami Fritz, in his deep voice, and Chester turned, rather surprised.  It was the first word he had heard Monsieur Wachner utter.

Sylvia was trying hard to forget Count Paul and his broken promise, and to be her natural self.

As they emerged into the better-lighted thoroughfare, where stood a row of carriages, she said, “I will drive with you to the Pension Malfait, Bill.”

Madame Wachner officiously struck in, “Do not think of driving your friend to the Pension Malfait, dear friend!  We will gladly leave Mr. Chester there.  But if ’e does not mind we will walk there; it is too fine a night for driving.”

“But how about your luggage?” said Sylvia, anxiously.  “Has your luggage gone on to the Pension?”

“Yes,” said Chester, shortly.  “Your landlord very kindly said he would see to its being sent on.”

They were now close to the Villa du Lac.  “Of course, I shall expect you to lunch to-morrow,” said Sylvia.  “Twelve o’clock is the time.  You’ll want a good rest after your long day.”

And then Chester started off with his two strange companions.  How very unlike this evening had been to what he had pictured it would be!  Years before, as a boy, he had spent a week at a primitive seaside hotel near Dieppe.  He had thought Lacville would be like that.  He had imagined himself arriving at a quiet, rural, little country inn, and had seen himself kindly, if a little shyly, welcomed by Sylvia.  He could almost have laughed at the contrast between the place his fancy had painted and the place he had found, at what he had thought would happen, and at what had happened!

As they trudged along, Chester, glancing to his right, saw that there were still a great many boats floating on the lake.  Did Lacville folk never go to bed?

“Yes,” said Madame Wachner, quickly divining his thoughts, “some of the people ’ere—­why, they stay out on the water all night!  Then they catch the early train back to Paris in the morning, and go and work all day.  Ah, yes, it is indeed a splendid thing to be young!”