the door, tall and a little drooping,
between the men who stood aside to give him passage, strangely
significant and notable at that final moment. At the door he had
turned and looked toward the Prince.

"Au revoir!" he had said.

And the Prince, concerned not to fail in his attitude, not to make
the wrong impression upon those who watched, had matched his tone
carefully to Carigny's as he replied: "Au revoir!"

The thing had touched men's imaginations. The drama of that promised
return, years ahead, had made a story; it had threatened the Prince
with notoriety. He had had to live dexterously to escape it to play
little and with restraint for many months afterward. It had had to be
suffered to exhaust itself, to die lingeringly. It had lain in its
grave for nearly thirty years; and now, like a hand reaching out from
a tomb, came this letter. The incident was not closed.

"No wonder," said the Prince to himself, as he knotted his necktie
before the mirror "no wonder the day felt wrong! There is bad luck in
the very air. I must be very careful today."

M. Dupontel, waiting for him in the salon, saw him enter between the
folding doors with a face upon which his distaste of the day had cast
a shadow. Dupontel was no more than twenty-five, and the Prince was
one of his admirations and his most expensive hobby. He rose from his
seat, smiling, surveying, the other's effect of immaculate clothing,
fine bearing, and striking looks, and marking the set of his
countenance.

"You look very correct today," he remarked pleasantly.

The Prince nodded without humor. "It is one of my days for being
correct," he answered. "I feel it in the air it is a day to be on my
guard. I have these sensations sometimes not often, mercifully! and I
have learned to pay attention to them."

Dupontel smiled again. "To me it seems a cheerful day," he said. "And
you begin it well, at any rate."

"How, then?" The Prince, coaxing on his grey gloves, turned narrowed
eyes upon him. "In what way do I begin it well?"

Dupontel produced a pocket-book from the breast of his coat. "I have
to settle with you over last evening," he said. "Two thousand, wasn't
it? I call that beginning any day well."

He dropped the notes upon the little table where the Prince's hat and
cane lay.

The Prince picked up the notes.

"Thanks!" he said. He looked at the young man almost with curiosity.
"Sure it's convenient?"

For answer, Dupontel showed him his pocket