e Montmartre
theatre at which the dancer was appearing, and I decided that I would
be present also.

A great surprise was in store for me.

Zara el-Khala had at this time established a reputation which
extended beyond those circles from which the regular patrons of this
establishment were exclusively drawn and which had begun to penetrate
to all parts of Paris. You will remember that it was the extraordinary
circumstance of her remaining at this obscure place of entertainment
so long which had first interested me in the lady. I had learned that
she had rejected a number of professional offers, and, as I have
already stated, I had assured myself of this unusual attitude by
presenting the card of a well-known Paris agency--and being refused
admittance.

Now, as I leaned upon the rail at the back of the auditorium and the
time for the dancer's appearance grew near, I could not fail to
observe that there was a sprinkling of evening-dress in the stalls
and that the two boxes already occupied boasted the presence of parties
of well-known men of fashion. Then the Grand Duke entered as a troupe
of acrobats finished their performance. Zara el-Khala was next upon
the programme. I glanced at the Grand Duke and thought that he looked
pale and unwell.

The tableau curtain fell and the manager appeared behind the footlights.
He, also, seemed to be much perturbed.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I greatly regret to announce that
Mlle. Zara el-Kahla is indisposed and unable to appear. We have
succeeded in obtaining the services----"

Of whom he had succeeded in obtaining the services I never heard, for
the rougher section of the audience rose at him like a menacing wave!
They had come to see the Egyptian dancer and they would have their
money back! It was a swindle; they would smash the theatre!

If one had doubted the great and growing popularity of Zara el-Kahla,
this demonstration must have proved convincing. Over the heads of the
excited audience, I saw the Grand Duke rise as if to retire. The other
box parties were also standing up and talking angrily.

"Why was it not announced outside the theatre?" someone shouted.
"We did not know until twenty minutes ago!" cried the manager in
accents of despair.

I hurried from the theatre and took a taxicab to the hotel of the
dancer. Running into the hall, I thrust a card in the hand of a
concierge who stood there.

"Announce to Mlle. Zara el-Khala that I must see her at on