at you had
some object in taking me to the Cafe des Deux Epingles that night. Be
honest with me. I can be a friend. I have influence here and there,
and, as I think you know, I love adventures. Tell me what you know of
this affair. Tell me if you had any motive in taking me to the Cafe
des Deux Epingles that night?"

Louis looked around the room with keen, watchful eyes. Without
abandoning his attitude of graceful attention to what I was saying, he
seemed in those few moments to be absorbing every detail of the
progress of the affairs in the restaurant itself. The arrangement of
the service at some tables a little way off seemed to annoy him. He
frowned and called one of his subordinates, speaking in a rapid
undertone to him, and with many gestures. The man hurried away to obey
his instructions, and Louis turned to me.

"Monsieur," said he, "there are many times when it is not wise or
politic to tell the truth. There are many times, therefore, when I
have to speak falsehoods, but I will confess that I do not like
it. Always I would prefer the truth, if it were possible. When I saw
you at the Opera in Paris I thought of you only as one of my best and
most valued patrons. It was only as we stood there talking that
another idea came into my head. I acted upon it. There was a reason
why I took you to the Cafe des Deux Epingles!"

"Go on, Louis," I said. "Go on."

"I took you there," Louis continued, "because I knew that some time
during the night Tapilow would come. Already I knew what would happen
if you two met."

"You wished it to happen, then?" I exclaimed.

Louis bowed.

"Monsieur," he said, "I did wish it to happen! The person of whom we
have spoken is no friend of mine, or of my friends. He had entered
into a scheme with certain of them, and it was known that he meant to
play them false. He deserved punishment, and I was content that he
should meet it at your hands."

"Is that all, Louis?" I asked.

"Not all, monsieur," he continued. "I said to myself that if monsieur
quarrels with his enemy, and trouble comes of it, it will be I--I and
my friends--who can assist monsieur. Monsieur will owe us something
for this, and the time may come--the time, indeed, may be very close
at hand--when the services of monsieur might be useful."

"Come, Louis," I said, "this is better. Now I am beginning to
understand. Go on a little further, if you please. I acknowledge your
claim upon me. What can I do?"

"Monsieur li