ian's dress--to whom I made a
statement of my loss, describing my lost treasure and where I thought it
had in all probability been taken. While we were talking a very
distinguished-looking man, perhaps forty-five years of age, with
magnificent black eyes, passed near, evidently interested. When through
with the police I remarked that I did not know how I was to get back to
Baden; whereupon the master of the cafe--who, by the way, spoke English
well--exclaimed, "Oh, as to that, I will lend you what you need."
Hearing this, the distinguished-looking stranger came up with a salaam,
and, begging the conventional number of _pardons_, graciously
volunteered any service he might be able to render me. I thanked him,
explaining to him in a few words my misfortune, but that the master of
the cafe--who had meantime purchased a railway-ticket for me--had
gallantly come to my rescue. At this moment the car-bell rang: I gave my
card to the _Meister_, took down his name, and hurried away to get a
seat in the train, the owner of the black eyes following me, helping me
as best he could, and, "if madame had no objections, would take a seat
near her, as he too was _en route_ for Baden." He spoke in French, with
a pure French accent, although it was evident he was not a Frenchman. He
evinced a desire to continue an acquaintance so oddly begun, but I was
obliged to doom him to disappointment. My mind was occupied with the
grave question of finance, and about how long I should be obliged to
remain in Baden before I should receive a remittance from London. I
remembered having seen the gentleman once or twice in the park at
Baden, and thought him, with his splendid eyes, graying hair and
military bearing, a man of no ordinary appearance. He had the air of a
person looking for some one, and the expression was sad. Under ordinary
circumstances I should have been curious to learn more of him. My
coolness of manner, accompanied by the almost rude brevity of my replies
to his few ventured remarks, seemed to amuse him, for he smilingly
observed that I was a true "Anglaise."

To be taken for English always aroused my honest indignation, and I
quickly retorted, "Pardon, mais je ne suis pas Anglaise."

"Vraiment! but you speak with the English accent."

"Quite possible, monsieur, as English is my mother tongue, but I am a
_vrai Americaine."_

"_Americaine! Americaine!_" he repeated eagerly. "I once knew an
American lady, and I should prize above al