Mademoiselle da Toscana's chauffeur scratched his chin in perplexity. In

frightening off his tempter he recognized that now he would never be able

to find out who he was. He should have played with him until mademoiselle

came out. She would have known instantly. That would have been the time

for the police. To hide in the car! What the devil! Only a madman would

have offered such a proposition. The man had been either an American or an

Englishman, for all his accuracy in the tongue. Bah! Perhaps he had heard

her sing that night, and had come away from the Opera, moonstruck. It was

not an isolated case. The fools were always pestering him, but no one had

ever offered so uncommon a bribe: five hundred francs. Mademoiselle might

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not believe that part of the tale. Mademoiselle was clever. There was a

standing agreement between them that she would always give him half of

whatever was offered him in the way of bribes. It paid. It was easier to

sell his loyalty to her for two hundred and fifty francs than to betray

her for five hundred. She had yet to find him untruthful, and to-night he

would be as frank as he had always been.

But who was this fellow in the Bavarian hat, who patrolled the sidewalk?

He had been watching him when the madman approached. For an hour or more

he had walked up and down, never going twenty feet beyond the limousine.

He couldn't see the face. The long dark coat had a military cut about the

hips and shoulders. From time to time he saw him glance up at the lighted

windows. Eh, well; there were other women in the world besides

mademoiselle, several others.

He had to wait only half an hour for her appearance. He opened the door

and saw to it that she was comfortably seated; then he paused by the

window, touching his cap.

"What is it, François?"

"A gentleman offered me five hundred francs, Mademoiselle, if I would

permit him to hide in the car."

"Five hundred francs? To hide in the car? Why didn't you call the

police?"

"I started to, Mademoiselle, but he ran away."

"Oh! What was he like?" The prima donna dropped the bunch of roses on the

seat beside her.

"Oh, he looked well enough. He had the air of a gentleman. He was tall,

with light hair and mustache. But as I had never seen him before, and as

Mademoiselle wore some fine jewels, I bade him be off."

"Would you know him again?"

"Surely, Mademoiselle."

"The next time any one bothers you, call the police. You have done well,

and I shall remember it. Home."

The man in the Bavarian hat hurried back to the third car from the

limousine, and followed at a reasonably safe distance.




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