d bottle after bottle of champagne.

"Who is that girl singing to the people in the cafe?" asked Frederic,
abruptly.

"She is called the Marquise, sir--a pretty little creature, and as good
as she is pretty!"

"I dare say! Now send her up here, and tell the waiter to bring up three
more bottles of your best champagne."

Aube stood still, twisting his cap in his hands.

"Well?" said Frederic, "why don't you go?"

"I wish to say, sir, that the girl is very respectable."

"We don't doubt it. We will pay her for her song--three louis, five--is
that enough?"

Aube felt that he had no right to deprive the girl of this money, and it
was more than probable that these young fellows were not as wild as they
seemed. Fernando's calm superciliousness reassured him in some degree.

"Are you going?" asked Frederic, somewhat rudely.

Aube reluctantly left the room.

The restaurant was filled with customers, all respectable people with
the exception of those seated around a table in the further corner of
the room--they were doubtful in appearance. When Robeccal, in the
discharge of his duties as "extra," came to this table he lingered
there, even drinking a glass of wine, first taking care that his
employer could not see him.

Aube, greatly disturbed by the orders he had received, returned to the
dining-room just as the Marquise was making her rounds to collect the
money that was laid on the back of her guitar. Aube touched her
shoulder.

"I want to speak to you, petite," he said, as he drew her into a corner.
"You are not rich, I fancy?"

"I should say not!" And Francine laughed. "What a queer thing to say!"

"I have a proposal to make."

"And what may that be?"

Aube's kindly face inspired the girl with no distrust. He hesitated.

"You know," he said, "that I have no advice to give, but if you choose,
you can make five louis."

"A hundred francs! You are jesting!"

"And only by singing two or three songs."

"But that would be better pay than the opera singers receive!"

"That may be!"

"But where am I to sing?"

"Here--on the next floor."

"Hallo! ambassador, are you never coming?" shouted Montferrand from the
top of the stairs.

Francine started.

"They are young men, are they not?"

"Yes, but you need not be alarmed--they are only a little gay."

A hundred francs was a good deal of money. She could buy an easy chair
for the poor invalid, and give her a little treat.

"Well?" asked Aube, who w