gain, looking straight into his--the same beautiful face, it
seemed, that had gazed at him on that memorable night years before,
the same red lips, the same wonderful eyes.

The blazing match fell from his fingers, and in another moment he
clasped a warm and clinging figure in his arms. Without a word their
lips met in one long kiss. To Paul it was as if he had been
transported to some distant sphere, and in some mystic fashion
transcending time and space, he held his lady in his arms again.

But it was no dream; that kiss was a reality.

* * * * *

A low cry suddenly broke the silence--a quick exclamation of alarm. It
was a language Paul remembered well, for his Queen had often talked to
him caressingly in her own strange tongue. He started and turned his
head, to see a tongue of flame leaping shoulder-high behind him. The
match had fallen on some inflammable drapery and set the place afire.
He seized a rug and tried to smother the blaze, but the little house
was a tinder box.

The lady had not moved meanwhile. But as the sound of running feet and
a loud call of "_Au feu! Au feu!_" shattered the quiet, she sprang
like a frightened fawn out into the darkness. An instant later,
blinded by the glare of the conflagration, Paul followed. He was too
late. The darkness had swallowed her completely, and with the blaze
still dazzling his eyes Paul could scarcely see even the hurrying
forms that came racing up the path.

In a few moments the tea-house was a ruin. Paul hurried to the hotel,
where several startled guests had gathered in somewhat scanty attire,
alarmed by the cry of fire ringing out into the still night. But the
lady of the midnight kiss was not there.

CHAPTER VI

Too stirred within his heart to sleep, Paul paced the lawn, in the
vain hope of seeing her again.

He was walking lightly over the wet grass with almost silent feet, so
occupied with his thoughts that he came near to walking into a couple
talking beneath a tree.

When, however, he beheld them, he came to a sudden standstill, all his
senses alive, his quick intuition telling him he was in the presence
of some matter of moment.

A little portly man with an evident air of authority was talking to a
woman in a flowing cloak. Emphasizing his remarks with true Gallic
gestures, but with all his excitement making an evident effort to be
guarded in his tone, he was all oblivious to Paul's presence.

The girl