About the woman they would say, “She is Mademoiselle Milan, just arrived on the French packet, to fill an engagement as leading lady at the Alcasar.”

Concerning Dupleisis, except that he had arrived recently on the English steamer, that he seemed to be a man of leisure, and paid promptly for what he received, they could tell you nothing.

The glowing sunshine faded entirely out of the sky, the thick-walled houses flickered faintly through their staring casements, the lamps on the streets glimmered dismally at the returning crowds, and one by one the lights began to quiver on the water.  The Passeio, an hour before too cramped for the multitude, was now deserted; but Dupleisis, nothing daunted, smoked on.  Disgusted at the necessity which compelled his presence, and annoyed at the stupidity of the few people he had met, he commented savagely on their peculiarities, and anathematized with merciless ingenuity.

“Pshaw, M. Dupleisis! you are only angry because you cannot have chicken-pie every day for dinner.  What have the Brazilians done to you?”

Dupleisis gazed at the speaker in astonishment.

“Their impudence, rather than degeneracy, perhaps should surprise.”

“Really, M. Dupleisis!  I fear you are a cynic.  In the gayest promenade in the empire, you are filled with violence.  You are a spoiled child looking in at a shop-window and admiring nothing.  Are you going to cry with a mouth full of sugar-plums?”

“Pardon me,” said the Frenchman, haughtily, “but it is an awkward habit of mine to feel curious concerning the names of my associates.”

“Let me hasten to enlighten you:—­Percy Reed, diamond-dealer, Rua do Ouvidor, at your service.  You brought me a letter of introduction; but, unluckily, I was out of town when you arrived.”

The dark eyes glanced at the speaker closely as they had watched the man and the woman.  There was something in the face that commanded respect.  The broad high forehead, the eyes flashing with scornful mirth, and the thin lips curling with such a whimsical mixture of kindliness and sarcasm, bespoke a man of mind.  Since reaching Rio, Dupleisis had searched for these three, and he liked this one the best.  Reed took out his eye-glass, and, adjusting it carefully on his nose, surveyed Dupleisis deliberately from head to foot.

“You’ll do,” he remarked, after some little thought; “but I still believe that in your bread-and-butter days some friend thought you sarcastic.  I knew a young girl once who was told she had a musical laugh, and the consequence was she giggled the rest of her life.  Now, if you don’t wish to see us locked in here for the night, come along.”

CHAPTER II