"You are quite sure--of the two men?" he asked quietly.

"Quite!" Guy answered confidently. "One was----"

Madame--Flossie's friend--dropped a wineglass. Monsieur le Baron raised
his hand.

"No names," he said. "It is better not. We understand. A most
interesting adventure, Monsieur Poynton, and--to your health!"

The wine was good, and the fun of the place itself went almost to the
head. Always there were newcomers who passed down the room amidst a
chorus of greetings, always the gayest of music. Then amidst cheers
Flossie and another friend whom she called from a distant table danced a
cake-walk--danced very gracefully, and with a marvellous display of
rainbow skirts. She came back breathless, and threw herself down by
Guy's side.

"Give me some more wine!" she panted. "How close the place is!"

The younger Frenchman, who had scarcely spoken, leaned over.

"An idea!" he exclaimed. "My automobile is outside. I will drive you all
round the city. Monsieur Poynton shall see Paris undressed. Afterwards
we will go to Louis' rooms and make his man cook us a _dejeuner
Anglais_."

Flossie stood up and laughed.

"Who'll lend me a coat?" she cried. "I've nothing but a lace mantle."

"Plenty of Frenchmen in the car," the young Frenchman cried. "Are we
all agreed? Good! _Garcon, l'addition!_"

"And mine," Guy ordered.

The women departed for their wraps. Guy and the two Frenchmen filled
their pockets with cigarettes. When the bills came Guy found that his
own was a trifle, and Monsieur Louis waved aside all protest.

"We are hosts to-night, my young friend," he declared with charming
insistence. "Another time you shall have your turn. You must come round
to the club to-morrow, and we will arrange for some sport. _Allons!_"

They crowded out together amidst a chorus of farewells. Guy took
Flossie's arm going down the stairs.

"I say, I'm awfully obliged to you for introducing me to your friends,"
he declared. "I'm having a ripping time!"

She laughed.

"Oh, they're all right," she declared. "Mind my skirts!"

"I say, what does '_prenez garde_' mean?" he asked.

"'Take care.' Why?"

He laughed again.

"Nothing!"

CHAPTER III

A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE

"Mademoiselle," the young man said, with an air of somewhat weary
politeness, "I regret to say that there is nothing more to be done!"

He was grieved and polite because Mademoiselle was beautiful and in
trouble. For the rest he was a little