ight. Remain in
the hotel to-morrow until you hear from some of us. I may not promise
too much, but I think--I believe--that we can save you."

At that moment Louis' words meant little to me. I was still under the
spell of those few wonderful moments, still mad with the joy of having
taken the vengeance for which every nerve in my body had craved. It
was not until afterwards that their practical import came home to me.

CHAPTER VI

AN INFORMAL TRIBUNAL

I was awakened about midday by the _valet de chambre_, who
informed me that a gentleman was waiting below to see me--a gentleman
who had given the name of Monsieur Louis. I ordered him to prepare my
bath and bring my coffee. When Louis was shown upstairs I was seated
on the edge of my bed in my dressing-gown, smoking my first cigarette.

Louis had the appearance of a man who had not slept. As for myself, I
had never opened my eyes from the moment when my head had touched the
pillow. I had no nerves, and I had done nothing which I regretted. I
fancy, therefore, that my general appearance and reception of him
somewhat astonished my early visitor. He seemed, indeed, to take my
nonchalance almost as an affront, and he proceeded at once to try and
disturb it.

"Monsieur was expecting, perhaps, another sort of visitor?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"I really hadn't thought about it," I said. "After what you told me
last night I have been feeling quite comfortable."

"Do you know that it is doubtful whether Monsieur Tapilow will live?"
Louis asked.

"It was the just payment of a just debt," I answered.

"The law," he objected, "does not permit such adjustments."

"The law," I answered, "can do what it pleases with me."

Louis regarded me steadily for a moment or two, and I fancied that
there was something of that admiration in his gaze which a cautious
man sometimes feels for the foolhardy.

"Monsieur has slept well?" he asked.

"Excellently," I answered.

He glanced at the watch which he had taken from his waistcoat pocket.

"In twenty minutes," he announced, "we must be at the Cafe Normandy."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Indeed!" I said dryly. "I don't exactly follow you."

Louis shrugged his shoulders.

"Monsieur," he said, "it is no time, this, for the choice of words.
There is a man who lies very near to death up there in the Cafe des
Deux Epingles, and it must be decided within the next few hours what
is to be done with him."

"I am not su