ked up. "My needy fellow-countrymen will not harm me--or know
me."

"Good again! Then the coast is clear! I only thought to warn you."

"I appreciate the thought." For an instant the old reserve touched the
voice.

"Now, Max! Now! Now!" The other turned to him, caught his arm again, and
swung him out into the Esplanade des Invalides. "You're not to be doing
that, you know! You're not! You're not! I see through you like a pane of
glass. Sometimes you forget yourself and get natural, like you did in
the _cafe_ this time back; then, all of a sudden, some imp of suspicion
shakes his tail at you and says, 'Look here, young man, put that
Irishman in his place! Keep him at a respectable arm's length!' Now,
isn't that gospel truth?"

The boy laughed, vanquished. "Monsieur," he said, naively, "I will not
do it again."

"That's right! You see, I'm not interesting or picturesque enough to
suspect. When all's said and done, I'm just a poor devil of an Irishman
with enough imagination to prevent his doing any particular harm in this
world, and enough money to prevent his doing any special good. My name
is Edward Fitzgerald Blake, and I have an old barracks of a castle in
County Clare. I have five aunts, seven uncles, and twenty-four first
cousins, every one of whom thinks me a lost soul; but I have neither
sister nor brother, wife nor child to help or hinder me. There now! I
have gone to confession, and you must give me absolution and an easy
penance!"

Max laughed. "Thank you, monsieur!"

"Not 'monsieur,' for goodness' sake! Plain Ned, if you don't mind."

"Ned?" The slight uncertainty, coupled with the foreign intonation, lent
a charm to the name.

"That's it! But I never heard it sound half so well before. Personally,
it always struck me as being rather like its owner--of no particular
significance. But I must be coming down to earth again, I have an
appointment with our friend McCutcheon at three o'clock." He drew out
his watch. "Oh, by the powers and dominations, I have only two minutes
to keep it in! How the time has raced! I say, there's an auto-taxi
looming on the horizon, over by the Invalides; I must catch it if I can.
Come, boy! Put your best foot foremost!"

Laughing and running like a couple of school-boys, they zigzagged
through the labyrinth of formal trees, and secured the cab as it was
wheeling toward the _quais_.

"Good!" exclaimed Blake. "And now, what next? Can I give you a lift?"
His foot was on t