ly direct gaze, were clear and even childlike. His
English was perfect, his evening-dress faultless, and, though obviously
a _bon-viveur_, he was also unmistakably a man with a purpose.

"And what has brought you to London?" Tranter asked, sitting opposite to
him.

"My friend," said Monsieur Dupont, "I am here with a remarkable object.
I have come to use the eyes the good God has given me. And to do so I
beg the assistance of the great position the good God has given you."

"I hope," Tranter returned, "that what you require will enable me to
make some sort of return to the man who saved my life."

Monsieur Dupont waved his hands in a gigantic gesture.

"To restore to the world one of its great men--it was a privilege for
which I, myself, should pay! The service I ask of you is small."

"You have but to name it," said the Privy Councillor.

* * * * *

Suddenly there was no smile on Monsieur Dupont's face. Without the smile
it was a very much less pleasant face.

"Two years ago, in my own country," his voice acquired a new snap, "some
one asked me a riddle."

"A riddle?" Tranter echoed, surprised at the change.

"A very strange riddle. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what it was. I
cannot tell any one what it was. I undertook to find the answer. From
France the riddle took me far away to another country--and there, after
a year's work, I found half the answer. The other half is in London. And
I am in London to find it."

"This is interesting," said Tranter, smiling slightly at the huge
Frenchman's intense seriousness.

"You, my friend, can help me."

"I am at your service," the other promised.

Monsieur Dupont half-emptied his glass, and the smile began to reappear
on his face in gradual creases. In a moment the shadow had vanished. He
laughed like a jolly giant.

"Ah, forgive me! I had almost committed the crime to be serious. It is a
fault that is easy in your London."

"What do you want me to do for you?" Tranter asked.

"I want," said Monsieur Dupont, "to be taken with you, as your friend
from Paris, to one or two society functions--where I may be likely to
meet ... what I seek."

Tranter was somewhat taken aback.

"Unconsciously," he returned--"though of course, I will make it my
business to fulfill your wishes--you have really asked me a difficult
thing. No man goes less into society than I do. Most people have given
up inviting me."

"Forgive me," said Mons