by hired bullies, and all manner of disagreeable things. No,
Lady Delahaye, I think that I will not run the risk."

She laughed softly.

"I know that you will come," she said softly.

"And why?" I asked.

"Because you are a man, and you do not know fear!"

I raised my hat and proceeded.

"My head is turned," I said. "Nothing flatters a coward so much as the
imputation of bravery. I think that I shall go with you anywhere."

"Even--to the Rue Strelitz?"

"My courage may fail me at the last moment," I answered. "At present it
feels equal even to the Rue Strelitz."

Again she laughed.

"You are a fraud, Arnold," she declared. "As if we did not know--I and
Madame and all of us, that in Paris, even throughout France, you could
walk safely into any den of thieves you choose. Your courage isn't worth
a snap of the fingers. Any man can be brave who has the archangels of
Dotant at his elbows."

"What an easily pricked reputation," I answered regretfully. "Well, it
is true. Dotant was Feurgeres' greatest friend, and even Isobel might
walk the streets of Paris alone and in safety. Hence, I presume, the
amiable desire of the Archduchess for an alliance."

Lady Delahaye shrugged her lace-clad shoulders.

"My dear Arnold," she said, "for myself I adore candour, and why should
I try and deceive you? Madame has played a losing game, and knows it.
She has the courage to admit defeat. She can still offer enough to make
an alliance desirable. For instance, those tickets in your pocket for
Illghera will take you there, it is true, but they will not take you
into the presence of the King."

"The King," I remarked pensively, "leads a retired life."

"He does," Lady Delahaye answered. "He has the greatest objection to
visitors, and for a stranger to obtain an audience is almost an
impossibility. He never leaves the grounds of the villa, and his
secretary, who opens all his letters, is--a friend of Madame's."

"You have put your case admirably," I remarked. "If Madame is sincere, I
should at least like to hear what she has to say."

Lady Delahaye drew a little sigh of content.

"At last," she exclaimed, "I do believe that you are going to behave
like a reasonable person."

I could not refrain from the natural retort.

"I have an idea," I said, "that up to now my actions have been fairly
well justified."

We were mounting the steps of her house. She looked round and raised her
eyebrows.

"We must let bygones be bygo